Lauraine Snelling - [Wild West Wind 01] (9 page)

“Supper will be ready in an hour.”

“Do you want the milk left in pans in the well house or brought in?”

“Strain it into the pans so we can skim the cream.”

“Bess is not giving much anymore.”

“I know. But Rosy is due to calf in November. All will be well.”

Ransom watched Gretchen head down the hall. She’d begun to flare up when he called her
little sister
. He would leave the teasing to Lucas. After all, he was good at it, and they all expected it from him. But that didn’t mean they had to like it.

He moved back to his chair at the desk, taking a kerosene lamp with him. Staring at the columns did not change the numbers. On the back of an envelope, he figured out how much ten feeders would be worth. While it would help, would the money be enough to make any difference? Of course, JD, short for Jason Daniel McKittrick, owner of the general store in Argus, might think so. There wouldn’t be much left to give to the bank. Or should he divide it in half? He rested his head in the palm of one hand while he juggled numbers in his mind.

His mother came back into the room sometime later. “You better get your coat on. Lucas got an elk and needs the team and wagon to haul it back.”

“All right. We’ll dress it out in the barn. Perhaps we can sell the hide too.” While Ransom hadn’t heard two rifle shots close together, he knew his mother must have heard the prearranged signal.

“Good thing it turned cold. I could take it in to the hotel tomorrow. They have a refrigerator there to age it in,” Mavis said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Talk to Slatfield about the calves on your way back, would you, please? We’ll round them up tomorrow. I’m keeping all the heifers.”

“I figured as much.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t waste your time worrying on our financial situation. God has a plan.”

“I surely do hope so.” He shrugged into his wool coat and tucked his thick scarf down into the neck. “Better put supper on the back burner. This will take awhile.”

Lucas already had the elk gutted by the time Ransom had hitched up the wagon and driven it out to the field. They would leave the entrails out for the coyotes to clean up. It took all the combined muscle they had to drag the carcass up into the wagon.

“I shoulda cut the head off first,” Lucas said, heaving breaths separating his words.

“This must be about the biggest we’ve seen. Look at that rack.”

“Been around awhile. That’s for sure. Think we should sell the whole thing. I got one. I can get another.”

“It’s up to Mor, I guess.” Ransom stepped up the wheel and settled on the board seat. “See you at the barn.”

The moon was floating above, casting dark shadows and glittering the frost-coated grass and bushes. This was the kind of night he used to love riding in. He’d head out at dusk and ride up in the hills. Then he’d come home in the moonlight.

Lucas had the double doors slid open and lanterns hanging on two posts with the pulley ready when his brother drove up to the barn. Ransom backed the wagon inside so that after they slit the skin around the hamstrings on the rear legs of the elk and inserted a bar between bone and tendon, they could tie ropes on the ends and use the pulley to hoist the carcass in the air. Once it was up, he pulled the wagon back outside and unhitched the team. Then he joined Lucas in skinning the animal.

“Pa would sure be proud of this one. You going to keep the antlers?”

“I thought to. I’ll hang ’em up over the barn door and let them age before I do something else with them.”

“You’re not going to cut them up, are you?”

“No. Probably cut up the one that’s hanging on the barn wall now.” Lucas had a customer back east who bought all the buttons made of various kinds of horn that they could produce. While it didn’t bring in a large sum of money, every little bit helped.

“Are you going to the barn dance on Saturday night?” Lucas asked as they folded the hide, hair to the inside, into a square packet and tied it closed with a thong made from other hides.

“No.”

“Why not? I’m sure Miss Suzanne will be watching for you.”

Ransom shook his head.

“Mor and Gretchen are going.”

“I said no.” His glare silenced even his persistent brother. They draped sheeting around the carcass and tied it in several places, then hoisted it higher. Each taking a lantern and blowing it out, they hung them on nails by the door where they could be found easily and closed up the barn, dropping the bars into the racks so the building was secure from prowling scavengers, like the coyotes they could already hear fighting over the scraps in the field. At least they’d not heard any wolves yet this fall.

Why not go to the dance?
Ransom asked himself. But he knew the answer. Miss Lissa from the Johnson spread had flirted with him more than once, but trying to talk with a young woman like that was just too difficult. At least the animals didn’t mind his silence.

M
r. Chamberlain said he’d take another elk if you can shoot one,” Mavis said as she came into the house the next afternoon. “I guess the hotel guests like to brag that they’ve eaten elk meat.” As the head cook at the Hill City hotel, Mr. Chamberlain catered to a lot of travelers.

Mavis grinned at Lucas, who was shaking his head. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Lucas nodded. “I’ll head out again, then.”

Ransom dropped his load of firewood in the box by the kitchen stove. “The elk probably will still be spooked tonight and not return.”

“Could be, but maybe they have short memories.” Lucas turned to his mother. “Is Gretchen coming straight home from school today?”

“I believe so. She should be here any minute. Why?”

“She wanted to go hunting with me. It’s about time she got a deer at least.”

“You know she is a girl, and hunting is not a requirement to be a lady. She’d do better to work on her bread-making efforts.”

“I know, but she asked me. Asked you too, didn’t she, Ransom?”

Ransom nodded. He had a feeling that his little sister was trying to fill her missing brother’s shoes, although Jesse had never been one for hunting and fishing. He always said he wanted to make both people and animals healthy, not dead.

“If the elk don’t come out tonight, maybe we can ride back up in the hills tomorrow and find them. I saw several spike bucks. They’re far better eating than that old bull.”

Ransom turned to his mother. “You want to come along with us tomorrow? You’ve not been out riding for months.”

“Come to think of it, that sounds marvelous. Let’s do it, even if Lucas gets one tonight. The aspen must be at their peak color right about now. I’d like another elk hide too. Been thinking of sewing gloves. Although deerskin would be better.”

“Who’s going to tan them?” Lucas shook his head. “Ah, Mor, you know I don’t like tanning hides.”

“Well, sometimes I don’t like making breakfast either but . . .”

Ransom rolled his lips together to keep from laughing out loud at the look on his brother’s face. “You could chew them like the squaws used to do.”

“Eww. Ick.” Gretchen came in on Ransom’s words and shut the door behind her. “It stinks bad enough when you do it the modern way. But to chew one—ick!”

“Old Indians say that was the best way. Made the softest hides for pants and shirts. Be glad you don’t have to chew elk and buffalo. ’Course they were used for the tepees and blankets and didn’t need to be too soft.”

“Remember that rabbit-skin vest I had for so many years? I’d like one again.” Gretchen lifted the lid of the kettle on the stove and sniffed. “Sure smells good.”

“If we’re not back from hunting in time tomorrow, you make the supper when you get home, before milking.”

Gretchen made a face but nodded. “I could skip school and go along.”

“You could, but you won’t. Sorry.”

Ransom felt sorry for his sister. He remembered the days when he’d missed out on things at the ranch because of school. “We can go again on Saturday.” He returned the smile shot his way from his mother.

“But Saturday is the barn dance.” Lucas glanced from his brother to his mother.

“We can be back in time for that.” Mavis handed the plates to her younger son. “Put these on the table. And Gretchen, go wash your hands. Coffee or milk?”

“Milk,” she shot over her shoulder as she trotted down the hall.

Lucas set the plates down on the table and headed for the back door, grabbing his coat and hat as he passed the pegs on the wall by the door. “I’ll be back soon. Tell Gretchen next time.” The screen door slammed behind him.

Ransom shook his head. Covering the screen door with oiled cloth was another one of the jobs that needed doing before winter set in. He ambled over to the cabinet and dug the silverware out of the drawer. Somewhere along the years, the line between men’s work and women’s work had blurred, and they all pitched in to finish whatever task needed to be done. With all of them gathered in the kitchen, setting the table together felt like part of the natural order of things.

It hadn’t been that way when their pa was alive. Ivar took it for granted that he would be served by his wife and daughter. He demanded the respect of his sons, and if he had ever been able to laugh, something had stolen that through the years. While they had all been sad when he died ten years earlier, they had recovered quickly. Especially when Mor teased them or made them laugh. They’d been careful before then to make jokes away from their father’s sight and hearing.

Ransom had learned in the years since that laughter did indeed make the load lighter.

But at the same time, Pa had been an excellent rancher, fair to his hands, and well respected in town. There was no one more honest than Ivar Engstrom, nor more respected. Ransom had always felt God must be like his earthly father, stern and unbending, always ready to correct and steer his sons on the path of life. But they’d finally met the God of love after Ivar went on to his heavenly reward.

Ransom brought in several more armloads of wood before he brushed the bark and wood bits off his coat and gloves. Several fingers had worn through his leather gloves. Like his shoes that needed fixing. Pa’s motto: If it is worn, fix it before it breaks. Days like today, Ransom wondered how his father ever managed to do all he did.

“Thank you, son,” his mother said. “Ever since you took over the woodboxes, I’ve never run out of wood.”

“You are welcome.” He knew Lucas had always hated filling the woodboxes, and since it was a mindless chore, Ransom had taken it over. “You know, I’ve been thinking. We should take some of that elk hide, cut a rectangle about so big”—he spread his arms to show the size—“sew handles on the two shorter sides and use it for hauling in wood. One could carry a lot more at a time that way. Fact is, two would balance the carrier.”

Mavis nodded. He could see her already figuring how to do it.

“Wonder why we didn’t think of such a simple thing years ago?”

“Do we have an elk hide lying around somewhere?”

“The one from Lucas’s first hunt isn’t tanned yet.” She narrowed her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip, a sure sign she was deep in thought. “Maybe we could use canvas. We could add leather handles.”

“Do that for a practice run. Then we can adjust for the leather one to make it just right.” He held up his gloves. “Is there any deer hide to fix these? And I need elk to repair my boot.”

“There’s plenty of scraps in the sewing room. Leave your gloves with me, but you’re going to need your father’s lasts to fix your boot. I think they are out in the barn in that pile of stuff on the back wall.”

Ransom thought about where the iron foot-shaped forms might be. It could take some time to find them. He cocked his head. “Two shots. Sure enough. Lucas did it again. He has more luck.”

“Thank you, Lord, for bringing the elk to us.”

Ransom nodded as he shrugged into his gear. Shame they didn’t come down before dusk.

By the time the two men returned to the house, an elk once again hanging in the barn, Gretchen was getting ready for bed. “Mor said to tell you your supper is in the warming oven.”

“Where is she?”

“In her sewing room. Can’t you hear the machine?”

The men hung up their outerwear and crossed to the kitchen sink to wash the blood off their hands.

“Your chin too.” Ransom touched his chin to show his brother where to wash. “Good thing Mor sold this one too. Keep this up and we could whittle that account at the store down without using the calf money.”

“But I thought Slatfield wants the feeders.”

“Yep, deliver them next week.” Ransom pulled both full plates out of the warming oven and set them on the table. “Coffee’s hot.”

They ate their meal without much discussion, using fresh bread to sop up the gravy. Gretchen, in her nightdress and robe, dipped water out of the reservoir to wash with. “There’s gingerbread in the pantry. You want applesauce or cream on it?”

“How about both?” Lucas leaned back in his chair. “Full belly, full day’s work, and now I’m ready for a full night’s sleep. How about you ride with me into town tomorrow, Gretchen?”

“How will I get home again?”

“Ride with the Hendersons.” The Hendersons, their neighbors to the east, had enough kids to have a school all their own. The oldest son who was still in school drove the wagon for all of them to ride in. Gretchen said she’d rather ride her horse to town most of the time, but she agreed to ride in with Lucas.

“You better be ready to leave early. If I show up tardy, that teacher will make me stay after school ‘to make up your time,’ ” she said, parroting an older woman’s voice.

“I will.” Lucas tugged on her braid.

“Ouch.” She glared at him and headed for her bedroom.

Ransom and his mother rode out the next morning after Lucas and Gretchen drove off to town. In the cool air their breath fogged as they rode the horses up into the timber. The elk trail was easy to follow, the biggest danger being dead branches that could sweep them off the horses if they weren’t careful. Ransom smiled at his mother’s obvious delight in being on horseback. She’d always enjoyed riding and had taken part in roundups and calf brandings, especially since her husband had died. While he was alive, Ivar had insisted she wear a full riding costume and use only a sidesaddle. After he was gone, she donned pants for the outside work, finding them far more practical, but for propriety’s sake she never wore them to town.

They crested a ridge and paused at the bowl of glowing aspens below them. The sun turning the trees to brass and gold brought on sighs of delight.

“God is sure lavish with His paintbrush,” Mavis said. “Thank you for suggesting this.”

“You are welcome. Is your gun loaded?”

“Of course.”

“Looks like the elk have used this area to bed down during the day. If they’re around and smell us, they’ll be off before we can get a shot in.”

They nudged their horses to start down the slope, weaving their way among the boulders. Ransom let his horse have his head so that he could use his hands to clear aside the branches and hopefully see the elk. While bedded down, the animals appeared like brown rocks or bushes, until they moved. When his horse stepped into a clearing, the earth erupted. Like huge waves the elk herd drove straight up the hills, their haunches flashing the light hair on their hindquarters. With no heads visible, Ransom sat disgusted. Had he been on foot he might have gotten a shot.

“What a glorious sight.” His mother sat with her hands crossed on the saddle horn, shaking her head in delight. Glancing at her son, she chuckled at the disgusted look on his face. “I’ve only seen that one other time, years ago. Some things you never forget.”

Ransom nodded and smiled back at her. “It is indeed a glorious sight, but dropping one would have made it perfect. They’ll run for miles now.”

“That’s okay. Let’s ride to the top of the next ridge and check out the deer hollow.”

“Be prepared to do some walking, then. Or . . .” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “I know. Let me get around that thicket, and then you ride in. Some might take the game trail, where I’ll be waiting. Or you want to do the shooting?”