Lauraine Snelling - [Wild West Wind 01] (23 page)

Ransom shut the back door and blew out the lantern on his way out the front.

“Sorry I’m late.” Gretchen stopped her horse near the door. “I stayed to help Mrs. Micklewhite after school. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to get on her good side for a change.”

“Good idea.”

She removed her saddle and led her horse to the corral that had no water tank, where she let him go until he cooled down. “Take it easy, boy. I’ll come back and let you out again.” She slammed the poles into the gap between posts and turned to see that Ransom had put her saddle up. “Thanks. Where’s Lucas?”

“Good question. He went out to talk with the other ranchers regarding that cut fence and see if others have had the same. I thought he’d be back soon after dinner.”

“He probably came up with some excuse to go to town.”

“Most likely.”

“When is he going to grow up?”

Ransom bit back a burst of laughter, and when she laughed, he joined her. “You are wise beyond your years.”

“Sometimes, maybe.” They poured the milk into the pans and grabbed the jug of already skimmed milk to take to the house. Gretchen shook the jug to stir up what cream was left. “You find us a hog to butcher?”

“Not yet. Had to talk with the sheriff. Some other ranchers have had the same problem.”

“Somebody cut the fence? Why would they do that?” They scrubbed the soles of their boots on the mat and went in the back door.

“Sorry I was late, Ma. I was helping Mrs. Micklewhite.”

“That’s fine, dear. Would you please set the table?” Mavis pulled a roasting pan from the oven and set it on the reservoir top. “We’re having stuffed heart. Ransom, hand me that cutting board and a bowl for the potatoes.” After she’d made gravy from the pan drippings, she set the platter of sliced meat on the table. “Do you think Lucas will be back?”

“I don’t know. I can only suspect where he went.”

“He’s a grown man, son. You can’t be responsible for him any longer.” Mavis sat down. “Gretchen, please say the grace.”

For a change Gretchen said the Norwegian grace her father had taught all of them when they were young. “I Jesu navn, går vi til bords . . .”

Ransom silently said the words along with her. While they’d all learned to speak Norwegian from their father, with his passing, they seldom used it any longer. He knew Gretchen did it to please their mother, who tried to keep some of the traditions alive. They all said the amen together, including a voice from the doorway.

“You’re just in time, son. Get yourself a plate and silver.” Mavis did not get up to serve him. “There’s plenty here.”

Ransom passed the serving dishes on to his sister, who held them until Lucas sat down. As far as he was concerned, Lucas could eat on the porch or not at all. But he didn’t smell any cigar smoke on him or booze either. Where had he been? Curiosity was always a Ransom trait, but so was keeping his mouth shut. Except when his brother irritated the words out of him, which seemed to be happening an awful lot lately.

“So what did you find out?” Mavis asked when everyone had been served, including herself.

Ransom looked up. “Edgar said others had reported cut fences. He’s scheduled a meeting for after church on Sunday.”

“Which ranches?” Mavis asked.

“The Double Bar S and the Rocking R. No one else, so we might be catching this early. They weren’t sure how many head were stolen but less than ten.”

“That’s still quite a few.”

And where were you all afternoon?
is what he wanted to ask, but he didn’t. No sense making supper uncomfortable for everyone.

Lucas smiled at his mother. “This is so good.”

“But none of our stock got out?” Gretchen asked.

“No. We don’t have them in that pasture right now, or they would have.”

“Good. Please pass the potatoes,” Gretchen said, with a nudge to Ransom.

“Oh, sorry. Did I miss something?”

“I already asked once.” She took the bowl, helped herself, and passed it on to Lucas. “So how come you weren’t here to milk?”

“Sorry. I got tied up.”

“Tied up? As if you didn’t see the sun going down? I even warned you.”

“I know, but it took longer than we thought to load the saw.”

Ransom passed on the bowl of applesauce. “What saw?”

“Well, I was over at Dan’s, and I got to talking to him about his sawmill. He said he would either sell it to us or loan it to us if we needed it, that it would be easier to move the saw than to haul all the logs over there. So we got the wheels under it and hitched up his teams, and I hauled it home.”

Ransom let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You brought his sawmill home, here to our ranch?”

“Yes. I let his teams loose in the corral and threw them some hay. He said we can bring ’em back after we get the saw out to the trees.”

Ransom stared at the ceiling. Leave it to Lucas. He could charm the squirrels out of an oak tree. “Do we have a time limit?”

“Nope. He said he’s run out of timber, and no one’s come around to hire him. I have a feeling he’d just as soon get rid of it, but we can’t buy it right now. I think he’s lonely out there since his wife passed on.”

“I have to apologize that I’ve not been a good neighbor. I’ll send him a note and invite him to dinner.” Mavis shook her head. “Is he coming to our party?”

Lucas nodded. “Everyone sounded pleased about a get-together.”

Now they could cut the timbers and perhaps even some lumber to be used around there. One minute he wanted to pound his brother into the ground, and then he up and does something like this.

“Thank you, Lucas.”

“You’re welcome. We might need to talk to Emerson about looking at the sawmill. Dan says it needs a bit of work, but we can try it first.” Emerson Hansel was the blacksmith in town, and he had a knack for working on steam engines, something that was slowly taking the place of his dwindling blacksmithing.

That was one of the things that bothered Ransom. Times were changing and machinery speeded up things like haying and harvesting. They’d hired a traveling crew to harvest the oats and wheat. Not that they’d planted huge amounts of either.

But their granary was full of oats, and the wheat had been shipped out on the train from Argus, except for what they kept for farm use. The corn had dried and filled the corncrib for the chickens and the hogs. The stalks would be thrown out for the cattle when the pasture was snowed under. Hopefully they’d have seed left for the spring too.

Gretchen prodded him again. “The bread, please.”

“Thought we were going to dig that pit for the party this afternoon,” Ransom said.

“Oh, that won’t take long,” Lucas said. “I’ll see if I can get a deer tonight or in the morning.”

Ransom heaved a sigh. Lucas always had an answer for everything, but Ransom hated to leave things until the last minute, a far different attitude than his younger brother’s.

They’d finished supper when Mavis asked, “You want cream on your apple pie?”

“Not me,” Ransom answered. “Just plain pie.”

“I’ll take cream,” Lucas said. “Are those the apples we picked?”

“Some of them. The sauce too. I’ll do the apple butter tomorrow.”

Gretchen cleared the table while her mother cut the pie and served it. When they’d sat down again and all taken a bite with the requisite murmurs of appreciation, Mavis cleared her throat. “All right, what’s this I hear again about you wanting to sell this ranch, Lucas? I thought we’d already settled that.”

Lucas laid down his fork. “I don’t see how we’re going to meet the payments to the bank with the little cash we have. If they foreclose, we lose everything.”

“That is true,” Mavis said.

“Why would they foreclose?” Gretchen asked.

“Because we can’t meet the payments. They foreclosed on the Double Y,” he explained.

“Do you know how long that ranch had been in arrears?” Mavis asked.

“No.”

“Do you know what their assets are or were?”

“No. But I don’t think they wanted to move.”

“Did they move?”

“Yes, and left it.”

“Did you know they had another ranch in Wyoming and that they moved cattle and all their belongings there? That they tried to sell the Double Y and were not able to and so let it go back to the bank?”

“No.”

“What is it you want to do rather than ranch here?”

“I . . . I thought of homesteading in Montana.”

“You know, Lucas, if you want to go homestead in Montana, you have every right to do that,” Mavis said. “But I don’t plan on leaving here, and while I know things are tough right now, I’ve seen things turn around before, and I’ll see them turn around again.”

“But you need both of us here to work this place. There’s more work than two men can do, let alone one.”

“If you leave, we’ll have to hire help, but we’ll still make it.” She leaned forward. “But I don’t want to hear any more talk about selling out. Do you understand me?”

Lucas nodded.

Ransom sat staring at his mother. Where had all that come from? The legal terminology, the definite plans? Who was that woman at the end of the table?

She turned her gaze on Ransom. “Now, I understand your desire to open the mine again. I don’t think it will be worth your time and all the work that will go into it, but I won’t tell you not to do it. I would ask that you pray about it. The trees that are downed could be sawed for lumber we can sell so they wouldn’t be wasted. There are other stands that can be thinned too. Your pa planned on doing just that after he read some papers on tree farming.”

“He did?”

“He was a forethinking man. And he loved this place with a passion.”

“All but the mine.”

“He trusted what the professional miners told him. Had there been any chance there was more gold in there, he’d have gone for it. He even thought of blowing up the entrance to the shaft to keep anyone from being injured there.” She leveled one of her stern looks at Ransom. “Your pa would not be happy that you are dreaming of opening that mine.”

My pa might not be happy about a lot of things around here, but he’s dead and gone, and I’ve been pretty much in charge for the last years. Until tonight.
“But what if there is gold left in there? That nugget we found came from some vein.”

“Most likely the one they worked until it quit. And after the cave-in, he never allowed anyone back in there. I’m sure he guessed at where you found that nugget.” Ransom kept from looking at his brother by studying the crumbs left on his pie plate. “And did you know?”

She made a motherly face. “Let’s say suspected. And now I know for sure.”

“You think he figured it out?” Lucas looked as guilty as Ransom felt.

“I never asked.”

T
oday was the day.

Right after breakfast Ransom and Lucas moved the sawmill out to the stand of pine and set it up to be ready for cutting. But when they tried to start the engine, the smokestack went
puff-puff
, and that was it.

“Sure wish I knew more about engines.” Ransom felt like kicking the black monster.

“I’ll go see Emerson and ask if he’ll come help us get it started. Need anything in town?”

“Not that I know of, but ask Ma.” After looping the reins over the collar nobs and hitching the traces to the harness, they each mounted one of the heavy horses and rode back to the barn. They ate dinner, explaining what had happened, and Lucas picked up the list Mavis prepared, saddled his horse, and rode out with the teams in tow.

So much for digging the pit that afternoon. Ransom watched him go, grateful on one hand that Lucas enjoyed going to town and frustrated with the lack of help around the ranch. He went back into the house and poured himself another cup of coffee. The cinnamon from the apple butter baking in the oven made the house smell delicious. “Any more of that pie?”

“Do you think I would bake only one?” His mother cut him a slab and set the plate on the table. Bringing herself one too, she sat down. “So did you decide what to do regarding the mine?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it.”

“Your pa always had good common sense. He was adamant no one go back in there. He came too close to losing his life there. I know that was part of it. He always said better the gold on the hoof than in the belly of the mountain.”

“Well, the gold on the hoof isn’t quite as brilliant as it used to be.”

“No, but it is steady. Would you help me haul those spuds down into the cellar? Some of those big squash too. I got the cabbages hung up.” She’d pulled the cabbages out by the roots and hooked them up to the floor joists, something she’d read about in her gardening magazine.

“Of course.” Two barrels of apples lined one wall of the cellar, the carrots, parsnips, and rutabagas were packed in sand, and now the potatoes filled another bin, covered by several thicknesses of burlap bags to keep the light from turning the potatoes green. Sealed jars, filled with fruits and vegetables, syrups and jams, lined the shelves, and crocks sat on the damp earth floor under the shelves.

“I love to come down here,” Mavis said, holding the lantern high to spread the light around. “No matter what happens, we’ll have food this winter.”

“The dried beans and such are upstairs?”

She nodded. “And the dried herbs are hanging along the pantry beams. Everything smells so good.”

“You and Gretchen can be right proud.”

“I know. She’s a trooper. I thank God for my children every day and pray you will always make wise decisions.”

Ransom followed his mother and closed the outside cellar door behind them. One of the last things his father had done was to install the inside stairs to the cellar to make it easier to get to in the winter. Taking after their father was a good thing. After he had quit drinking.

Rapid City

The next morning, after brushing Wind Dancer, Cassie mounted and headed for town again. At the first corner she saw a livery stable and a sign for a blacksmith. How had she missed it yesterday?

“How can I help you, miss?” a burly man in a leather apron asked. “Horse need shoeing?”

“No, I need a branding iron. Ours got left behind.” She pointed to the brand on Wind Dancer’s rump. “Like that.”

“I see.” He walked to her horse’s rear. “Is he touchy?”

“Not if he knows you’re there.” She patted the black-and-white shoulder.

“Easy, fella.” He patted the rump and ran his hand over the brand. “And this stands for?”

“L and T. Lockwood and Talbot. Lockwood was—is—my father.”

“I see. Where you headed?”

“Some land he owns in the Black Hills.”

“Give me an hour.”

“How much?”

“Say three dollars.”

They branded the two calves that afternoon, with Chief running the show.

Cassie gagged on the stench of burning hair and hide. “How do you know how to do all this?” she asked.

“Who do you suppose branded the show stock?” He nodded to Micah. “Him and me and some of the others.”

“Is George branded?”

“Nope. And I ain’t about to try it. The others were branded as calves.”

Bar E Ranch

Early the next day Lucas brought in a nice spike buck. After hurrying through breakfast, the brothers went out to the barn to finish dressing it out. With the carcass wrapped in sheeting and the liver and the heart soaking in brine in the sink, Ransom, Lucas, and their mother bundled up and took the wagon out to the apple trees. By the time they’d stripped the trees bare and picked up the few apples that the deer didn’t get, the sun was high and warm enough to take off their jackets.

Mavis bit into an apple and, leaning against a wagon wheel, stared out across the valley. “This is one thing we never could figure a way to have at the house, and yet we didn’t want to build a road clear up here either.”

“What is that?” Ransom turned from setting the bushel basket in the back of the wagon.

“This view. I’d sit outside my front door of the cabin and look out across the valley just thanking God for such a beautiful place to live. But building the ranch house where we did was much smarter.”

“Why’d you build the cabin up here?”

“To be closer to the mine. These apple trees were one of the things I was sad to leave behind.” She waved her half-eaten apple. “Can’t find an apple anywhere with better flavor.”

“I’d like to go on up to the cabin if you don’t mind.” Ransom polished the apple on his pant leg and took a bite.

“I never mind going up there.” She motioned toward the pine trees. “You thinned that stand well. It’ll give those smaller ones a chance to grow.” She tossed her apple core out into the grass. “Let’s go.”

What used to be a well-used trail was now barely visible as they climbed the hill behind the orchard. The boarded-up entrance to the mine beckoned his attention, but after his mother’s stern warnings, he ignored it. He’d deal with that later.

An oak tree shaded the cabin, covering the ground around it with acorns and dry leaves.

“We should bring the pigs up here. They’d clean up those acorns right quick.”

“Right, and some cougar would look on that as serving his next meal up all nice and tidy.” Lucas pulled the latch, and the door swung open. They stepped inside, blinking in the change from sunlight to dimness. Light through the two windows and the door was sufficient once their eyes adjusted.

“We cut the logs ourselves, and the neighbors came for a cabin raising. It was up in one day.”

Ransom and Lucas walked around, looking for water stains and signs of animal habitation. One year they had found a mound of pine cones where a squirrel had gotten in and made sure he had plenty to eat in his palace. They’d blocked his hole by the fireplace and threw his store out. The rope-strung bed in the corner needed a mattress, and the whole place needed a good cleaning. But other than that, the cabin was aging well.

“What do you think?” Lucas asked after examining one of the windows to make sure the glass didn’t need new glazing. The small cookstove wore a bit of rust, but the chimney felt secure, and there were no nests in the fireplace chimney. Lucas stuck his head in the fireplace to make sure.

Mavis opened one of the cupboards and a mouse leaped out. She let out a small shriek, making her sons laugh. “He caught me by surprise.” She gave them both a reproachful look. “You would have jumped too.”

“Of course, Mor.” Lucas rolled his lips together to keep from laughing.

“You satisfied?” Ransom asked.

“I am. Let’s go have dinner. The soup should be ready by now. I think I’ll make dumplings. Your father loved dumplings.”

Back at the ranch house, she mixed the dumplings and dropped them by spoonfuls into the bubbling soup. For a treat, she sliced bread and, putting butter in a frying pan, browned the slices slightly.

Ransom scrubbed his hands at the sink where, thanks to their windmill, they had running water. Then he dried them on the towel hanging there for that purpose. “After dinner I’m going to get the press in shape for the party,” he said, looking at Lucas. “While you dig the pit. We ought to line that with rock or bricks to keep the dirt from washing into it.”

“As if we need one more thing to do.” Lucas pulled out his chair and sat.

“I’m thinking that fitting that cabin out would make a great place to stay if the weather turns bad when we’re shoring up the mine,” Ransom said, sitting down.

“I thought you gave up on that idea.” Mavis set plates with bowls full of soup on the table.

“Mor, something is driving me. I need to work that mine. If nothing good comes of it, so be it, but there’s something that says I have to try.”

“In spite of your father’s wishes.”

Ransom nodded. “Right.”

She stared at him. “Foolhardy.”

Later, when Ransom was working on the apple press, he thought back to his mother’s words. The barb hurt but she hadn’t absolutely forbidden his reopening the mine. . . . Oh, and he’d forgotten to tell them that Emerson would come out on Monday.