Santa Fe Woman (8 page)

“Can we go now?” she asked impatiently.

“I guess so. How far is it to your home?”

“About thirty minutes, but I’m not sure we can get a cab to take us.”

Indeed, this proved to be the case for some time. Finally the station master agreed to have his assistant take them home in his buggy. “I’ll have to charge four dollars for that,” he had said, and Jori had quickly agreed to it. Fifteen minutes later the two of them were seated in the buggy’s backseat. The big stallion Red was tied to the back, and Rocklin’s guns were under their feet.

“Pretty night,” Rocklin observed. They had not said a word for ten minutes until finally he broke the silence.

Jori shook her head. “I’m so tired I don’t even care.”

“That’s no way to live. You need to look up. See those pretty stars up there?”

Jori looked up involuntarily. Indeed, it was a beautiful night. The weather was cold, and in the open carriage they caught the
full chill of the wind. They followed the winding road that led beside the Arkansas River toward the area where the Hayden ancestors had built their house. From time to time the driver turned around to glance at them, but when they remained silent he lost interest.

“You’ll probably see a lot of this river.”

Rocklin’s remark interested Jori. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“The trail to Santa Fe follows alongside the north bank of the Arkansas for a long ways.”

“This same river?”

“Same one. Not quite as wide as it is here.”

Jori wanted to ask more questions, but she was still apprehensive, wondering if they had done the right thing by hiring this man. She thought,
We haven’t hired him yet. He may not be the man to
take us.

Twenty minutes later the driver pulled the buggy to a halt, and Rocklin jumped down. He held up his hand, Jori took it, came to the ground and quickly withdrew her hand. She turned to the driver and paid the fare, saying, “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jori turned toward the house while Rocklin removed his gear from the floor of the buggy, then her luggage. He moved around to his horse, then waited for her to speak.

“We’ll have to wake them up,” Jori said. “Everybody’s asleep at this hour.” She walked up the steps and found the door was unlocked. “There’s no sense getting everyone up, but I don’t know where you’ll sleep.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rocklin said, shrugging his shoulders. “You have a stable, I guess.”

“Oh yes. It’s in the back.”

“I’ll make me a bed in the straw. See you in the morning, Miss Hayden.”

He turned and was gone before she could speak. She watched him as he led the horse around the house. She was dissatisfied with the arrangement, but it was too late to wake people up.

Going inside, she groped her way up the stairs, and when she got to her room she closed the door softly. It took all her energy to undress and put on her nightgown. When she got into the bed, the last thought she had was,
Well, we’re this far at least….

* * *

“WHERE DID YOU PUT him, Jori?” Leland asked. He had come downstairs early to find that Jori had already risen. He listened closely as she told him about getting the sheriff’s permission to bring Rocklin with them on probation. Before she had time to finish, Mark and Carleen came down the stairs followed by Kate.

“Where is he?” Carleen said, her eyes dancing. “Is he an outlaw?”

“Don’t be foolish!” Jori said irritably. “We got here late. I didn’t want to get you all up, so he slept in the stable.”

“Well, he’s probably hungry,” Leland said. “Someone go get him, and he can have breakfast with us.”

“I’ll go,” Carleen said. Before anyone could speak she darted out the door and was gone. Leland grinned ruefully. “I think she’s already fallen for our wagon master.”

“What’s he like, Jori?” Mark asked.

“He’s got an outdoor look.”

“Well, that’s a good thing,” Mark grinned, “since the trail to Santa Fe is outdoors. Tell me something more than that.”

“No. I’m going to help Aunt Kate fix breakfast.”

“I guess we’ll all help. Mark, you set the table,” Leland said. “I’ll fix the coffee.”

* * *

CARLEEN SLIPPED INSIDE THE barn and looked around and saw no one, but a whinny came to her, and she ran down the aisle that contained the stalls on each side. In one of them was a big red horse looking down at her. Her eyes grew big, and she said, “What’s your name?”

“His name is Red.”

Carleen whirled to see a man rise up out of the stall on the other side. He had straw in his hair, and for a moment she was frightened. But then she said, “I’ll bet you’re our wagon master.”

“You think so? Maybe I’m a burglar.”

“No, you’re not a burglar. Burglars don’t have horses. You say his name is Red?”

“That’s right. What’s your name?”

“I’m Carleen.”

“Carleen Hayden, I expect.”

“Yes. I know your name. It’s Rocklin. I heard my sister and my father talking about it.”

She watched as the big man came out. He brushed the straw off of his shoulders, and she asked suddenly, “Where’s your gun? Don’t you wear a gun?”

“Sometimes I do. I don’t think I’ll need one today.”

Carleen studied him carefully, her eyes big. “How many people have you killed?” she demanded suddenly.

Rocklin suddenly grinned. His teeth looked very white to her against his bronze skin. “Not too many. I killed more of them than they did of me.”

“That’s foolish!”

“I expect it is. What are you doing down here?”

“I came down to get you for breakfast. They’re fixing it.”

“I reckon I need to shave first. You know where I can get some water?”

“There’s a pump outside. Can I watch you?”

“I charge fifty cents for spectators.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“That’s right, Miss Carleen, I am. Come on. You can watch me shave if you like.”

“Good, and then we’ll go on up to the house and eat breakfast.”

* * *

“HERE THEY COME,” MARK said. He was peering out the window of the front door as the two figures appeared. “He’s a big one, and he looks pretty tough.”

Leland came over to look out. “I guess he is.” He opened the door, and as Carleen came skidding in, she said, “He’s not wearing his gun, but he’s got one.”

Ignoring Carleen, Leland put out his hand. “I’m Leland Hayden. This is my son Mark, and you’re Rocklin.”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“My sister-in-law and my daughter are cooking breakfast. I expect you’re hungry.”

“I pretty well stay that way, Mr. Hayden.”

“Well, come along. It ought to be about ready.”

Mark asked as they turned to go in, “What time did you get in?”

“Middle of the night sometime. It was a pretty tiring trip.”

“He’s got a big red horse whose name is Red. Will you let me ride him, Rocklin?”

“Mr. Rocklin,” Leland said at once.

“Mr. Rocklin, will you let me ride him?”

“Maybe you can ride with me. Red’s kind of particular. He throws nearly everybody off.”

“Even you?”

“Even me, sometimes.”

As they entered the dining room, the first person Rocklin saw was Jori Hayden. She was putting a pan of biscuits on the table, and she flushed slightly when she saw him. “Good morning, Miss Hayden. I hope you slept well.”

“Well—yes, I did.”

At that moment Kate came out the door and Leland said at once, “This is my sister-in-law, Katherine Johnson.”

“Just call me Kate. I don’t believe I heard your first name,” Kate said.

“Chad.”

“Well, sit down, everybody. The food’s all ready.”

“You sit here by me, Mr. Rocklin,” Carleen said.

Rocklin moved over to the chair and waited until the two women had the food on the table and then the men all sat down. Leland said, “We’re used to saying a blessing over the food.”

“A good habit,” Rocklin said pleasantly.

They all bowed their heads, and Leland asked a quick blessing. As soon as it was over, Carleen started bombarding Rocklin with questions, usually calling him just Rocklin and being corrected by her father.

The breakfast was scrambled eggs, grits, fried potatoes, and biscuits.

“Best meal I’ve had in a long time, Miss Kate. You’re a good cook.”

“Anybody can scramble eggs,” Kate said.

“Not everybody can make biscuits, though.”

The meal went pleasantly enough, but Jori said hardly a word. Finally, as they were sipping coffee, toward the end of the meal, Mark said, “Rocklin, have you ever led a train to Santa Fe?”

“No, I never have.”

A stunned look crossed Mark’s face. He turned to his father. “How can we hire a man who’s never led a single train?”

“Al Blanchard recommended you, but he didn’t say you had never led a train.”

“Oh, I’ve been on several of them, usually as a scout. Did a bit of mule skinning, but I’ve never actually been the wagon master.”

Kate said, “Tell us about yourself. Mr. Blanchard wouldn’t have recommended you unless he believed in you.”

Rocklin sipped his coffee and held up the cup. “Mighty tiny cup. I’m used to big mugs. It’ll take a lot of these to fill me up.”

At once Kate got up, took his cup and went out into the kitchen. She came back with a big mug and said, “How’s this?”

“That’s just about right.” He sipped the coffee and said, “I guess you do need to know a little about me. Al didn’t tell you much?”

“Not much except you’ve been in the West all your life.”

“My parents were farmers. They were killed in a Comanche raid when I was twelve years old.”

Jori looked up, shock on her face. “How awful,” she whispered. “What happened to you? Who kept you?”

“Well, the Comanches did for four years.”

“The Comanches! You were a captive?”

“I was practically a Comanche. You either get that way or die.”

“Then you probably learned how to speak their language.”

“Had to do that, Mr. Hayden. Picked up a spattering of all the languages of the tribes, the Kiowa, the Pawnee.”

“Did you escape?”

“Yes, I did. We were on a raiding party, and I slipped away. After that I bumped around, did a lot of things. Drove a wagon, as I said. Trapped beaver in the mountains for a year. Soldiered in the dragoons for awhile. Mostly I just traveled around the West. It’s about all I know.”

They all sat there entranced as Rocklin spoke of his experience in the West. It was a new world to them, one they did not know, and it was rather frightening.

“Well, what do you think about our venture, Mr. Rocklin?” Leland said with some hesitation. “Al told me it would be a rough trip.”

Rocklin sat loosely in his chair, a limber man with incredibly blue eyes. “I’ve already told your daughter I think you’re making a big mistake.”

“In what way?” Kate said. She leaned forward, and her eyes were intent on the big man who sat idly in the chair toying with his coffee cup.

“Well, it’s too rough for women, I think. Hard enough on men.”

“But can it be done?” Leland demanded. “I don’t know if she told you, but we’re in real difficulty here. We’ve got to do something.”

“Your troubles here might look pretty small if we were half way there and got surrounded by Pawnees. But, in answer to your question, it can be done if you’re ready to pay the price. But it’ll be hard—real hard.”

“Which way do we go?” Jori asked impatiently. She had made up her mind and wanted to hear no more talk of the hardships. “I have a map here, but we can’t make much sense out of it.”

“Let me see the map. I don’t put much stock in them. Some maps were drawn by people, evidently, that never went along the way or saw the place.”

They moved into the dining room where Jori unfolded the map that she had obtained. They all gathered around with Rocklin standing over it. He said, “Here’s the way the trail runs. As I told Miss Hayden, we follow the Arkansas River a long way. Most of those that made the trip leave from Franklin, Missouri, right here.”

“Why, that’s a long way from here,” Leland said. “Is that necessary?”

“If you go on the Santa Fe Trail it is.” He began to trace the journey on the map with his finger.

Finally Jori leaned forward and said, “Why can’t we go across here? From Fort Smith you can go straight across to Santa Fe. It’s almost a straight line.”

Rocklin suddenly grinned. It made him look even younger. “Yes, ma’am, it does, and it goes right through the Llano Estacado. Right here. You see on the map?”

“What’s wrong with going through that, Rocklin?” Carleen demanded. She had squeezed in between her father and her brother and was looking up with inquisitive eyes.

“Well, Miss Carleen, the Llano Estacado means ‘the Staked Plains’ and it’s pretty much of a desert.”

“But why don’t people use it?”

“Because of the Comanches and the Kiowa and the Pawnee. It’s their country.”

Leland shook his head. “You mean they don’t attack trains on the Santa Fe Trail?”

“Sometimes, but it’s not so likely.”

“Which way would you take?” Leland demanded.

“Well, if it was just me, I’d go through the Staked Plains, but it’ll be dangerous whichever way you go.”

Rocklin spoke for some time about the journey, and finally Jori asked, “How long will it take to get there?”