Winter's Worth

by Danni Roan

  Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor. 1 Corinthians 10:24

  Copyright © 2019 by Danni Roan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  FIRST EDITION

  https://authordanniroan.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Rock, urged his horse over the low rise rolling his collar as the sharp wind from the mountains blew snow over his trail. February was a rough month and he’d been following the crimson trail of an injured animal for nearly a half mile now and was hoping his sad journey would end soon.

  Winter in the Wyoming Rockies could be harsh, and any animal unfortunate enough to find itself hurt this badly couldn’t survive long.

  As a ranch hand of the Adams-Dixon spread Rock had seen his fair share of cattle come to a sticky end, but he still couldn’t give up his search despite the inevitable outcome.

  As his leggy chunk of a horse topped the rise and slid into the softer snow on the other side of the hill with a snort, Rock squinted into the afternoon shadows at a ragged wagon and the carcass of a Rocking A calf strung up in a tree.

  Easing the pistol in his holster the big cowboy who looked more like a boulder than a rock, urged his balky horse toward the pool of red stained snow and the smell of fresh blood; squatters of any kind could be a bad business.

  “Ma’am,” Rock drawled as he pulled his horse to an easy halt in front of the wagon looking down at a large woman with dark skin and a steady eye where she held a shotgun.

  “I didn’t kill it,” the woman said quickly jutting her chin and making the kerchief on her head bounce. “I killed the varmint that did though.” She nodded toward the open gate of the wagon where two children were busy stretching the skin of a mountain lion over the boards.

  Rock nodded, it could not have been an easy thing to kill the big cat even with the shot gun, and he turned back to the woman, admiration in his light brown eyes. “You killed that cat?”

  “I did, and weren’t no point lettin’ the meat go to waste neither.” The woman’s words were defiant as the gun still held steady in her hands.

  “Would a’ been silly to let it go bad,” Rock agreed. “Though it is one of the Adams’ herd.” His eyes never wavered from hers and he could see that something a kin to guilt flashed briefly behind her eyes.

  “You think you need it you take it,” the woman gestured toward the calf with her shot gun. “Most folks don’t take to eatin’ tainted meat though.”

  Rock ran a hand over his jaw line. He didn’t see any reason not to let the family keep the meat. The woman before him had won it fair and square in his book.

  “I don’t reckon Quil and Cam will have an issue with you keepin’ it though.” He smiled slightly, “I’m Rock by the way, Rock Banon and welcome to Biders Clump.”

  For several moments the woman stood studying the cowboy then she nodded lowering her weapon. “You might as well step down and have a cup a’ coffee,” she said turning and hanging the shot gun on a rack behind the wagon s eat.

  Rock stepped down from his saddle tipping his hat to the children as he moved toward a small fire where a tall lean girl in her teens was scooting a battered coffee pot closer to the flame.

  “Matrice, fetch us two cups,” the larger woman said, lifting her skirts and making her way to a log by the fire. “Mr. Rock, I’m, Agnes Ratner and this is my family.” She lifted a rough hand gesturing around her. “We don’t mean no harm to no one, we’re just waitin’ for my Noah to catch up.”

  “Pa should a’ been here a week ago,” the girl spoke as she poured two cups of coffee and handed them off. “We ain’t heard from him in near two months.”

  Rock looked between the mother and daughter wondering where the man of the family could be. “Your man didn’t start out with you?” he asked wondering how they had faired on their own over so many miles.

  “No, he had debts to settle to pay for the wagon and supplies so we started out on our own looking for a place to call home.”

  “You come far?” Rock asked, sipping from his enamel mug.

  “Traveled up from Louisiana,” Mrs. Ratner said. “Started out with a few other wagons but most folks settled near towns already. Me and Noah is lookin’ for more open spaces.”

  There was something in the tone of the woman’s voice that made Rock suspect there was far more to the story than was put into words.

  “We got wide open spaces ‘round here,” he offered turning his eyes to the lower prairie that spread out below the hills. “Good land for ranching or for farming.”

  Agnes looked at him her eyes suspicious. “You got others like us about?” she asked.

  “Like you?” Rock asked scowling slightly.

  Agnes pulled back the sleeve of her heavy coat exposing her dusky arms. “Black folks,” she said boldly.

  Rock ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “We got all kinds of folks in Biders Clump,” he said. “The usual sort, good, bad, and in between, but they ain’t never turned no one away.” His eyes met hers and he felt a jolt of something pass between them. A glimmer of hope seemed to light in the woman’s dark eyes.

  “Mama, we’re done with the skins,” the boy walked toward the fire holding cold fingers toward the flame, then gestured for his sister to join them.

  “You did good,” Agnes said offering a slight smile. “Sit down here and warm yourselves.”

  “You stayin’ ta lunch Mr.?” Matrice asked her dark eyes hard.

  “No, no thank you.” Rock spoke picking up on the underlying distrust of the children.

  “Will there be trouble for us?”Agnes asked jutting her chin toward the small beef.

  “No ma’am,” Rock assured finishing his coffee then getting to his feet. “I’ll speak to Cameron when I get back to the place. We lose a calf now and again in winter, least this one won’t go to waste and we know we won’t lose no more to that big cat.” He smiled trying to put the family at ease.

  “Mr. is it alright if we stay here a bit longer?” the little girl asked.

  “Beatrix you hush now,” Agnes stood placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders protectively.

  “It’s alright Mrs. Ratner,” Rock said leaning down and looking at Beatrix. “No one’s gonna care if you stay here a while. You should wait til your pa gets here or at least wait out the worst of the weather. The spread I work for is over that way,” he continued pointing in the direction of the ranch. “Bider’s Clump is yonder,” he finished pointing in the direction of town.

  Pulling his reins from the snow Rock stepped into a stirrup and hauled his bulk into the saddle.

  “You need anything,” he said looking Mrs. Ratner in the eye, “you come on over and ask for Rock.” He tipped his hat then wheeled his horse galloping out into the snow.

  Chapter 2

  “Rock what are you doing in town on a day like this?” Polly Esther called as she hurried along the board walk from the General Store.

  “I’m l
ookin’ for Cam, Miss Polly,” Rock said tipping his hat and pulling up to the hitching rail and stepping down so that he could take the older woman’s parcels.

  Polly Esther Olson eyed Rock with a worried expression. “Somethin’ wrong?” Although a fairly tall woman even for her age Polly was dwarfed by the big man walking next to her.

  “No ma’am,” rock assured. “Just found some folks out on the edge of the Adams’ range and wanted him to know I told ‘em they could stay a bit.”

  Polly smiled at the big man. Rock was a quiet fellow but deep down he had a heart as big as the Rockies.

  “Any trouble?”

  “No, they just need to lay by a bit.”

  Polly Esther chuckled, her blue eyes twinkling as she shook her head making the bun of white hair wobble on her head. “Seems like a passel of folks have ended up here that way.”

  Rock laughed in agreement. “Well I reckon that’s how this here town got started in the first place. No reason folks shouldn’t keep comin’ the same way.”

  Everyone in town knew the story of the founding of Biders Clump and Rock cast his eyes over his shoulder at the high peaks in the distance.

  “I always figured the fella that stopped here all them years ago on his way over the Oregon trail maybe figured on staying for good,” the big man said as they clattered up the stairs to the town’s boarding house.

  “You think so?” Polly queried.

  “Well it’s mighty pretty around here and mostly quiet to boot. Why wouldn’t he want to stay?”

  “It is a nice place to bide a while,” Polly mused, “but I can see how someone traveling all the way west could look up at that mountain pass and lose heart. Can you imagine traveling for months, weary and foot sore and heart sick and just plum tuckered out? That fella saw them mountains and just decided he needed to sit a spell here in a clump of trees.”

  “But he never left,” Rock said as Polly opened the door to her home and motioned him to follow her down the hall to the warm inviting kitchen.

  “No, he never left and over time other folks would stop for one reason of another and soon Biders Clump came together. But aren’t you glad it did?” Polly added with a warm smile taking the last package from Rocks bulky arms.

  Rock smiled. “I reckon I am,” he agreed. “It makes a right good home.”

  “Rock that you?” George Olson, Polly’s husband came up from the cellar a basket of vegetables in his hand.

  “George,” Rock offered his hand in greeting.

  “You two men sit down now,” Polly said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve made a red velvet pie and need some opinions on if the recipe is good enough for the town social in a few weeks. I thought the color would suit for Valentine’s Day.”

  “I’ll be happy to be judge and jury,” George offered with a grin as he whipped out a chair and plunked himself down. “Don’t you miss out on this now Rock,” the older man said. “You’re in for a treat.”

  Rock cast his eyes down the hall toward the front door then pulled out a chair and sat down. He’d find Cameron Royal, the ram-rod for the Rocking A soon enough. Cam wasn’t at the ranch, so he must have brought his wife Quil to town with their little fella and like as not they’d end up stopping to see George and Polly before heading home.

  “Thank you,” Rock said taking his hat from his head and exposing the slight balding spot far back on his pate. He was no youngster, though he wasn’t close to George and Polly in age, and it was starting to show in small ways.

  “You getting ready for the big Valentine’s Day shindig?” George asked as Polly placed a mug of coffee before each of them then sat out three slices of pie.

  Rock had just lifted his fork when a knock fell on the door and George rose to answer it. Moments later Cameron Royal and his family stepped into the kitchen from the frozen outdoors.

  “Oh give me that little bit!” Polly squealed clapping her hands and reaching for the bundle of warm blankets and knitted items in Aquila’s arms.

  “I swear Miss Polly I might as well be invisible these days. Everyone just wants to hold little Andrew.” Aquila smiled pulling her heavy coat off and handing it to George as she shook several strands of brown hair from her eyes.

  “I notice ya darlin’.” Cameron winked at his wife making her blush prettily. The tall man with the shock of dark hair had been not only a godsend to the Adams women but had turned into Quil’s true love.

  “You all sit down,” Polly said unwrapping her prize who giggled and grinned at her from under his winter wear. “George would you mind serving more pie?” the old woman said unwrapping Andrew and kissing his rosy cheeks.

  “Rock, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Cameron said sliding into a chair next to his friend and cowhand.

  “I come lookin’ for ya,” Rock said reluctantly lowering his fork back to his plate. “Ran into some folks staying out along the edge of the range in the hollow.” Rock nodded toward Quil who was taking a seat next to Polly while George handed out pie.

  “They had one of our young beefs about ready to butcher,” Rock continued drawing all eyes to him. “It wasn’t their fault though,” he hurried to explain raising two heavy hands to ward off any comments. “A mountain cat had killed it, and the woman done killed him.”

  Cameron looked at Quil surprised by the tale. “You sure?” he asked. The Adams girls had had enough trouble over the years with lost stock and lost pay.

  “I’m sure, I saw the hide of both critters. I’d followed the injured calf a far piece before I found what had happened, but they was tellin’ the truth, and honestly, I have to respect them not wanting that kill to go to waste. Took a good bit of gumption to get close enough to that cat to take it down with a shotgun.”

  Cameron nodded, feeling the hair at the back of his neck tickle. “These folks plannin’ on staying long?”

  “I don’t know,” Rock admitted. “Seems they come up from the south to find a place, but Mrs. Ratner’s man ain’t caught up with them yet. She and her three children would like to wait a while for him.”

  “Sounds like they got vittles enough,” George piped up finally cutting into his piece of pie and lifting his fork. “The cold will keep that beef good a long time so’s no point worrying about them huntin’ or wandering about in this weather.”

  “You have a point there,” Cameron agreed, his dark eyes turning to George as he sipped his coffee then tucked into his pie.

  “Well I hope they’ll have the sense to come into town if it gets to terrible out there,” Polly added bouncing Andrew on her knee and offering him tiny piece of pie crust to chew.

  Rock looked around the table at his friends. They were people he’d known for years, some of them, like Quil, their whole life. “I don’t know if they will or not,” he stated. “They’s folks of color.”

  “Well that don’t make no never mind,” George growled. “We got folks from all over round these parts. “Young Francis, is a full blooded Indian and he’s working with Doc Walker. No one cares.”

  Rock nodded. “We know that George, but this family’s coming from the deep south where things are still pretty tough on folks like them.”

  “We had that regiment of Buffalo Soldiers come through here a few years back,” George commented. “Weren’t no trouble to us.”

  “Frankly, it was nice having soldiers like that around to keep an eye on things.” Polly agreed.

  “Well just the same, I just want you to know that the Ratners are out there and what happened. I told ‘em there wouldn’t be any trouble about the calf.”

  Cameron patted the man on a thick shoulder. Rock had given him a hard time when he’d first married Quil, but now he could call him a friend. “You did the right thing,” Cam said with a smile.

  “Polly this pie is delicious,” Quil said savoring her last bite. “I wonder if I could write it into a story?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Polly said as Andrew reached out chubby fingers digging them deep into the gooey heart of
her own slice and making everyone laugh. “As the resident writer in these parts, I figure you can write whatever you want into your books.” Polly laughed as the little boy stuck most of his hand in his mouth.

  “What ya working on now?” George asked sipping his coffee and peering at Quil.

  “Oh, I always have a dozen ideas in my head at any one time,” Quil admitted her bright green eyes sparkling. “I’ve been thinking of writing an adventure about an older woman finding love.”

  “It’s been known to happen,” Polly said getting to her feet and taking Andrew to the sink to wash up. “Youth does not have the corner on love.”

  The conversation turned to Quil’s writing and Rock eased himself back on his chair. He’d never been a man given to love stories or romance. As a youth, he’d been almost too shy to even talk to a girl. Were there actually women out there his own age that would be interested in finding love?

  He shook his head dispelling the thoughts. No woman would want a big galoot like him, unless perhaps she was not a tiny thing herself. Again he shook his head chasing away the silliness. He’d been a bachelor his whole life and that was good enough.

  He rode for the brand and felt like part of the family with the Adams crew. He and his companions on the ranch had given up better jobs to return to the ranch trying to see to it that Maud Adams and her three girls could manage. That was his life and he was proud of it.

  Finishing his pie he climbed to his feet. “I’d best get movin’ along,” he said. “I’ll stop in on the way home and tell Sara and Rafe about the Ratners,” he added pushing his hat back onto his head. “Thank you for the pie Miss Polly,” he nodded. “It was plumb delicious.”

  “See you at home Rock,” Cam said with a wave as the big man walked to the door and stepped silently outside.

  The harsh chug, chug sound of a horseless carriage came around the turn, and Rock was surprised to see Mr. Williams the town banker driving at a sedate speed along the main street.

  Rock lifted a hand waving at the man and the older woman sitting next to him bundled in furs and woolen rugs. Mrs. Farrow had been keeping company with Mr. Williams since her daughter had married a builder right here in Biders clump.