Mail Order Victoria

by Caroline Clemmons

  She could have floated around the room. “What a sweet thing to say and a rare gift, Greg. Thank you.”

  “Since you’re not mad at me, let’s go to bed. You have to be as tired as I am.”

  Victoria’s days were filled to brimming over. She had no idea how other women managed to get everything done. At least by the end of the week she had devised a plan to get her chores done and teach the children. She hadn’t yet managed to work in the vegetable garden but Sonny was taking care of it for now.

  On Friday evening at supper, Miguel used his fork to point at Sonny. “He found another place where the fence had been cut. Looked like the rustlers got six head.”

  Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t known there would be trouble. Until now she’d thought her biggest problem was Cindy’s unhappiness and stretching herself to be a ranch wife and mother to six children.

  Sonny looked up from his plate. “Kansas repaired the fence while I followed the trail. Once they reached the road, there were too many tracks to figure which were your cattle.”

  Miguel’s expression grew angry. “This is getting old, Greg. We must stop this from happening again. Should we patrol at night?”

  Greg looked toward each man before answering, “I don’t want anyone getting shot. Cattle aren’t worth a human life. Don’t think anyone should ride alone. Tomorrow morning, you can show me where they cut the fence. I’m marking a map I drew to see if there’s a pattern.”

  Miguel set down his coffee mug. “I have been thinking of that very thing but only mark places in my head.”

  Victoria took Hattie’s hand. “Don’t play with your food, eat it. You can play later.”

  The men talked of nothing else during their meal.

  After eating, Miguel stood. “We go to the bunkhouse now. We will see you early in the morning.

  When they’d gone and the children were in bed, Victoria sat with Greg in the parlor.

  He laid aside a book when she came in. “The print in that book is the smallest I’ve ever seen. I’ve tried to read it other times and don’t have the patience.”

  She picked up the book. “My goodness, this would make your head and eyes hurt. What was the publisher thinking? Shall I get you another book? I brought a couple of good ones with me. I have a volume of short stories by Wilkie Collins and Middlemarch by George Elliott.”

  He stood and paced the room. “No, thanks. I have the two I bought in New Braunfels but there’s no point in even opening one of them. I can’t concentrate because of those rustlers on my mind. I sure wish I knew who was behind this.”

  “How long has it been happening?”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Started almost a month ago. At least, that’s when we missed cattle and when we started finding cut fences. Some ranchers are riled at the fences limiting free range. But, no one else has had fences cut and no one else has lost cattle. I can’t figure who has it in for me. I can’t think of anyone I’ve slighted or who thinks I have.”

  “Who’s jealous of you?”

  He stopped pacing to stare at her. “What?”

  “Greg, you’re a successful rancher with a large home. There are bound to be people who resent that you have more than they have.”

  Before he could protest, she held up her hand to stay his remark. “I know you worked hard to acquire all you have, but people like I mentioned don’t think logically. Because they’re not successful, they believe they’re unlucky. Since you’re successful, you must have had lots of help or cheated someone or some other excuse. Even if they mostly sit on their front porch and watch the world go by, they won’t admit you’ve worked hard and they haven’t.”

  He took one hand out of his pocket and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Hadn’t considered such a person. I don’t know how I could discover someone like that. I sure hope we can find the trail tomorrow. I can’t continue to lose six or seven cows every few days. Someone wants to ruin me.”

  She rose and reached for his hand. “You can worry about this tomorrow. Now, let’s go to bed.”

  “Don’t think I can go to sleep as upset as I am.”

  “I’ll bet you can—eventually.” She flashed a coquettish glance as she led him to their room.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday morning at breakfast, Greg asked his foreman, “You said you’ve seen a pattern in the cut fence.”

  Miguel shrugged. “I will show you where this happened yesterday and you can tell us what you think. Is your map so you can bring it with you?’

  “Matter of fact, I have it folded and in my back pocket.” He looked at his wife. “We may be late for supper if we find a good lead. These rustlers have made me angry and I plan to see they’re caught.”

  Kansas patted his stomach. “Sure was good food, Mrs. Hardy.”

  Sonny grinned. “Best meal I’ve eaten since supper last night.”

  Miguel smoothed his mustache. “Sí, your cooking is so good that soon we will be as fat as the swine in the sty. Oink, oink.”

  She couldn’t suppress her laughter. “I’m glad you men enjoy my cooking. I appreciate your kind words. Should I prepare lunches for you to take with you?”

  Greg was solemn but his blue eyes conveyed gratitude. “That would be nice. We’ll have our canteens with us. Jerky isn’t that tasty.”

  “I’ll arrange for each of you to have a packet of food by the time your horses are saddled.”

  Sure enough, by the time the men were ready to leave, she had four packages of food consisting of biscuits with ham slices inside, a slice of pie, an apple, and some cheese for them.

  Greg and his men rode directly to where the fence had been cut when Sonny had checked yesterday. Greg dismounted and examined the ground.

  “How many horses you count? I make out three.”

  Kansas walked about twenty feet past Greg. “We found a fourth one waited here. Looks like he was supervising instead of herding. Never got off his horse.”

  Greg marked the spot on his map and showed the men.

  “You can see they always hit on this side, which makes me think they’re heading west. That means they’d have to cross Cibola Creek or the Guadalupe River otherwise. How far did you trail them yesterday?”

  Sonny pointed at the map. “I lost the trail on the road here. There were too many prints and I couldn’t tell which were your cattle or someone else’s.”

  Kansas leaned in. “They could be headed between the creek and river to a ranch. Someone may be using your cattle to stock a personal herd. Probably not far either because they keep coming back instead of hitting someone else.”

  Miguel nodded. “This is true. I asked around and have not heard of anyone else losing cattle, have you?”

  Greg folded his map and returned it to his back pocket. “No, I think this is aimed only at me. My wife said the same thing. I’m not the nicest person in Texas but I sure don’t know who I riled this much.”

  He looked at his men. “You hear anything?”

  Each shook his head.

  “We’ll have to ride back until we get to a gate. This is something else I’ve wondered. Why cut the fence instead of using the gate that isn’t that far away? Who do they not want to see them with cattle?”

  Miguel mulled over the question for a few minutes. “Boss, the Jennings—if cattle left by that gate, the Jennings would know. That woman helps you sometimes, but she is one nosy woman. I’ll bet she knows what everyone in Comal County had for breakfast.”

  The others grinned.

  Greg climbed into the saddle. “You’re probably right. All the same, I’m grateful to her because she helped me when Cora passed. I barely managed as it was. Couldn’t have coped, Miguel, without you and Kansas pitching in to do my share of the work. Now Sonny is here he’s helping, too.”

  They ate their lunch at a spot under a grove of trees by the side of the road.

  Miguel polished off his food. “I appreciate your new wife’s cooking. This is better than the j
erky and water we might have had.”

  Kansas grinned. “Mrs. Dean’s pies weren’t bad but Mrs. Hardy’s is better.”

  Sonny elbowed Kansas. “She’s a better cook than Miss Adams, that’s for sure.”

  Greg couldn’t suppress a grimace. “Since Miss Adams visited and knows I’m now a married man, the word will travel. Thank heavens I can be shed of both of those women.”

  Miguel shook his head. “Not completely for they will be angry you married a stranger instead of choosing one of them. I think they will not be friendly to your nice wife.”

  Greg hadn’t considered they might be rude to Victoria. If one was, he’d have to have a heart to heart talk with her. He’d tell her to grow up and find someone else.

  After lunch they scoured the sides of the road for the sign of a half dozen cows being driven off the road. When the road turned, they found where cows and horses continued west.

  Miguel gestured toward the sky. “Greg, look at the horizon.” Miguel’s voice sounded alarmed.

  A dark bank of clouds rolled their way. “Son of a gun, we’d better get back to the ranch. That looks like a mean storm.”

  Miguel was afraid of storms. He’d been in a house hit by a tornado years ago and feared that ever happening again. “Those clouds could carry hail or a tornado. We must hurry.”

  And, they did. Spring storms often brought disaster.

  The excited whinnies of horses captured Victoria’s attention. She went to the window to see if someone was outside. Instead, she saw the dark cloud bank approaching. She raced to Cindy’s room.

  “There’s a bad storm coming. The clouds look as if they contain hail or worse. Please watch the children while I put up the chickens and try to get the horses into the barn.”

  The girl laid aside her book. “I can take care of the chickens. Sid can watch the other children.”

  She laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Cindy, if this is a really bad storm and it hits while I’m outside, you’ll need to get the babies and Martha into the cellar. You’re the only one besides me who can manage that. I know I can depend on you. Frankie can get down the steps on his own with you watching. I’ll take Sid with me.”

  She slipped into the boys’ room and saw that Sid was awake. “Come with me quickly, please.”

  “What’s wrong?” He shoved his feet into his boots and followed her.

  She hurried down the hall. “There’s a storm coming that might have hail in it and I’d hate for the hens to be injured or so frightened they quit laying eggs. I’ll get the horses into the barn if I can.”

  Sid kept up with her. “The other horses will follow better if you bring in the bay stallion. He’s the leader.”

  Wind blew in gusts, whipping up dust from the yard and molding her skirts against her. Greenish tinted air carried a heavy scent of moisture. She didn’t know about Texas weather, but in Atlanta these conditions meant one devil of a storm was on the way.

  “I’ll get the horses while you get the hens. Can you do that?”

  The boy hurried as they raced across the yard. “I’ve done it before.”

  Victoria had ridden since she was eight but she’d never handled a frightened horse. She opened the barn door to the paddock and tried to whistle. Failing that, she turned and hunted a container. Using a bucket filled with oats, she cajoled the bay into the barn.

  As Sid predicted, some of the other horses followed. There weren’t enough stalls for all the animals. To keep those she’d lured into the barn from leaving, she penned them by moving hay bales and barrels into their path. Both dogs were upset but fortunately wanted to remain inside the barn.

  She ran out to the paddock and slapped a horse on the rump. Using the apron she’d removed, she shooed the stragglers toward the barn. Sid appeared and helped. He removed his shirt and waved it to drive the horses

  The wind increased and pushed at her. Sid appeared to have trouble staying upright and the wind whipped his shirt from his hands. The airborne shirt caught on the fence and he grabbed it.

  Thunder rumbled and lightning shot across the sky not far in the distance. The storm moved rapidly their way. Soon it would be directly over them.

  She and the boy got the horses inside and shut the barn door. She was breathless and rested her back against the door briefly. Would Greg and his ranch hands be all right?

  “The milk cows are safe in here. What about the pigs? What does your father do to protect them?”

  He buttoned his shirt. “We don’t do anything. They’re smart enough to go into the covered part of their sty. It’s like a small barn.”

  Raindrops fell outside—large ones. Or was it hail? They couldn’t delay.

  She put her arm around the boy’s shoulder. “We have to get to the house and into the cellar. Let’s hurry. When I open the barn door, you run for the house and go straight to the cellar. If Cindy doesn’t have the others there tell her to get them there now. I’ll secure the barn and be right behind you.”

  Had water been given the animals? Feed to the milk cows and chickens? They were safe and she didn’t dare delay any longer. Deafening thunder rumbled overhead. Dark clouds released a downpour.

  By the time she reached the porch’s shelter, she was drenched. She grabbed a couple of towels and made quick plans. Dinner was in the oven so she adjusted the heat to cook much slower.

  They might need something to eat while in the cellar. She filled a basket with bread, cheese, a knife, and a jar of water in case they were trapped for several hours. As a last thought, she piled in as many tin mugs as would stay in the basket.

  Before she descended the stairs she grabbed a lantern. At the stair door she heard the two youngest crying.

  Through sobs, Regina cried, “Mama… I want my Mama.”

  Hattie wailed in echo, “Mama, Mama.”

  Mattie whimpered. “I want Mama, too, Cindy. When is she coming? Why isn’t she here now?”

  “If you would stop crying long enough, you could hear her on the stairs.” Cindy’s voice carried frustration.

  “I’m coming, children. I brought us a snack in case we get hungry playing games.”

  Sid took the second lantern. “Should I light this now?”

  “Yes, let’s have two lanterns so we can see well while we play.”

  The open part of the cellar was only about ten by ten. Bins lining two sides held apples, pears, potatoes, yams, onions, carrots, turnips, and parsnips. On the shelves were containers of dried apples, sauerkraut, vinegar, and other containers she hadn’t yet investigated.

  Frankie jumped at a loud boom of thunder. “What if a tornado comes and the house falls on top of us?”

  She put her arm around his shoulder. “We’ll crawl out. Now stop worrying.”

  Mattie tugged at Victoria’s skirt. “I’m scared.”

  “First things first. Cindy, thank you for doing so well in getting Frankie and your sisters down here. I knew I could depend on you. Thank you for being clever enough to bring a couple of quilts that make sitting more comfortable.”

  Victoria sat and pulled Regina, Hattie, and Mattie close. “Children, do you know Jesus told us not to be afraid? You see, worrying doesn’t help and only steals joy from today.”

  Sid stared at her. “What if we can’t help being afraid?”

  “Here’s a lesson for you to remember forever. Did we act foolishly or sit lazily and wait for someone else to help us?

  He shook his head. “No, we hurried and took care of things the best we could.”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, we have taken every precaution we can. We couldn’t help the cattle but we secured the horses, the milk cows, the dogs, and the chickens in shelter. The swine have a safe place under cover. Cindy took care of the younger children. Since there is nothing more we can do then we must have faith that everything will be all right.”

  Cindy looked toward the top of the stairs. “Do you think Papa is coming home?”

  Dear Lord, please protect him and the men w
ith him.

  Feigning bravado she didn’t feel, she smiled at the children. “Your father is a very smart man. I’m sure if he can’t come here then he’ll find shelter from the storm. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s back here very soon.”

  Even from the cellar they heard the storm raging overhead. Fighting her emotions she sought to find solace in her own words of comfort. In the meantime, she wanted to distract the children from their worrying.

  Acting calm and excited to be together—she hoped—she clapped her hands. “Let’s play games. How about ‘I Spy’ to start?”

  The children stared at her.

  Cindy sighed. “They don’t know how.”

  “The person who is it says, ‘I spy with my little eye and gives a clue. You have to be honest and not change the item while people are guessing. If those playing are old enough to read, instead of a clue you say ‘and it starts with… ’ and give the first letter of the object.”

  Cindy frowned. “Will you start as ‘it’ and show them?”

  Victoria pointed at her eye and made a funny face. “I spy with my little eye and it is something round. Now we’ll start with Frankie and go in a circle. Each person guesses once and then the next around the circle until someone guesses correctly. The one who is right is it next.”

  Frankie looked around frantically. “Is it a… a… an apple?”

  “No, but that was good guess. Sid, you’re next.”

  He pulled at his ear lobe and scanned the cellar. “Is it a lantern?”

  “Yes, that’s correct and you’re it now.”

  Footsteps pounded overhead and the door at the top of the stairs opened. Four soaked men came downstairs in a rush. Victoria rose and passed Greg one of her towels. She handed the other to Miguel.

  Greg wiped his face and passed the towel to Kansas. “Started hailing like crazy as we hit the porch. Thanks for getting the horses into the barn. Hope the cattle aren’t hurt.”

  He sat down. “Looks like you’re having a party down here.”

  Mattie climbed on Greg’s lap. “We are, Papa. Mama is teaching us a game called I Spy With My Little Eye. Now Sid’s it ’cause he guessed what she spied.”