Reno's Journey: Cowboy Craze (The Wild West)

by Sable Hunter

  “Wait, what else do you have there, Reno?

  When he glanced up, he could see Clay was pointing at Journey’s note.

  “This is a note from Journey. She slipped it in the bag with the other papers.” Unashamed, he passed the paper to Clay.

  His friend didn’t seem concerned with reading the note. He was much more fascinated by the photograph on the opposite side advertising the helicopter ride he and Journey had taken over the city of Austin. “As I live and breathe…”

  Reno wished he could kiss Journey about now. He had no idea if any of this was done on purpose or not. Either way, he was glad she’d included the bag and the note. “That flying machine is called a helicopter. We rode inside of it over the city of Austin. As you can see, in the future our capital is a big city with tall skyscrapers. If you look closely, you can also make out all the heavy traffic on the freeway.”

  His three friends passed the photograph from hand to hand. All were equally amazed. Finally, Clay looked at his friend. “I think I owe you an apology, Reno. I don’t know how to explain it, but I believe you now. Somehow, someway, you’ve been to the future and back.”

  * * *

  After answering a dozen more questions, Reno finally made his escape. He was desperate for a few minutes alone. Picking up his things that he’d left just inside Fancy’s kitchen door, he carried them to the bunkhouse. On the way, he stopped by the paddock to check on Traveler. Ace, or someone, had taken good care of the stallion. Reno was grateful for this. He’d been so anxious to see his friends; he’d left the animal tied to the hitching post.

  As he walked across the property, he surveyed the entire area. He couldn’t help but compare what he saw now to the home the Blackhawk family would build on the same spot. An eerie sensation crept over him. He thought of those Roman soldiers who seemingly marched from ancient times to the present. Watching the ground ahead of him, he wondered at the people from the past who’d covered this same ground and those from the future who would walk in their footprints. The idea made him feel adrift, like he needed to catch onto something to hold himself in place.

  Inside the bunkhouse, he noticed his space was now occupied. “What in tarnation? Let a fellow die and they can’t wait to push you aside and claim your spot.” With a disgusted snort, he moved further, throwing his saddlebags on the next unoccupied bed in line. Sitting down, he took Journey’s note from his pocket to read over and over again. For long moments, his mind and heart traveled a century and a half away.

  What was she doing? Did she miss him? He thought of his promise to place a letter in Saul’s journal for Journey to find. With a sinking heart, Reno realized he didn’t know what to write to her. He could say he arrived safely, but without Ela, he couldn’t promise to return in a month or two months – not until he figured out a solution. Should he even tell her about Ela’s death? He knew the news would devastate her. What if the extra worry made her or the baby ill? There wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it. Why, he wouldn’t even know about it. Reno doubled over with the realization that he might be able to send her a message, but she’d never be able to send him one in return.

  Unable to sit still any longer, he placed the precious note beneath his pillow. With a heavy heart, he left the bunkhouse. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to return to Journey again, but whatever time he was here at King’s Ransom, he needed to pull his own weight. He needed to pick up where he’d left off, even if nothing was the same.

  Without an assigned task for the day, Reno set out to do whatever his hands found to do. First, he fed Fancy’s chickens and gathered the eggs. After taking the full basket to the kitchen, he repaired a damaged plank on the corral fence. Once he returned the tools to the shed, he noticed a stray calf wandering in the adjacent pasture, lowing for its mother. Concerned for her safety, he saddled Traveler and headed out to see if anything was amiss. Luckily, he came across the mama cow tangled in a bramble bush. He freed her with little trouble, slapping her rump to send her in her offspring’s direction. From there, Reno checked on the herd, noting the new acquisitions. He couldn’t help but be proud, King’s Ransom was fast becoming a successful operation.

  Of course, it wouldn’t last. Nothing lasted.

  Just a couple of weeks prior, he’d walked this same earth with Benjen Blackhawk. Other than a handful of faded pictures and a few yellowed newspaper articles, the men of the Cumberland Guard were long gone and forgotten. Nothing but a faint memory of the men who worked King’s Ransom lingered in too few minds. Reno rubbed his chest, trying to relieve himself of the faint ache distracting him from his work. If he didn’t find a way back to Journey, he’d be nothing more than a memory himself.

  As he rode over familiar ground, he was glad of the solitude. He didn’t look forward to mixing with the others tonight, not if they were going to watch him like a hawk, expecting him to do or say something crazy. But by the time supper rolled around, Reno was surprised to find his friends with a different attitude. He didn’t have to wonder why for long. As he filled his plate with smoked meat, Jericho filed in behind him. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time, Reno. I am glad you’re here.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jericho.”

  “King told us to give you all the support you need. He said we should trust you whether we understand everything or not.”

  “Well, I appreciate that.” He gave Jericho a forgiving pat on the shoulder.

  “Reno! Sit with us.”

  Emory’s familiar voice drew his attention. “Sure, thing.” He carried his plate to a smaller table set up for the children. “Do you have room for me?”

  “Always.” Saul patted the empty chair between him and Emory.

  Reno started to sit but saw something in his chair. “What’s this?”

  “Oops.” The small boy scooped up his turtle. “She was holding your place, Reno.”

  He chuckled. “I see. I’m glad Doe is still alive and kicking.”

  “Me too.” Emory kissed the top of the box turtle’s shell.

  Reno settled down in the chair, giving Tess a wink and a smile. “How’s the prettiest little girl in Texas?”

  “I’m good.” She gave him a smile in return, a big one that sported a big gap where she’d lost one of her front teeth.

  “Why, look at that. You’re almost toothless!”

  “I’m not,” she protested with a mouthful of giggles. “I have plenty of teeth left. See!”

  “I’d swear you had a tooth there this morning. What happened?” Reno asked as he buttered a biscuit.

  “It was mighty loose. She let me pull it,” Huck announced proudly. “I tied a string around the tooth and the other end around the doorknob. Then I slammed the door. Wham!”

  Reno covered his mouth, imagining how it felt. “Did you cry?” he asked Tess with sympathy.

  “A little.” She held up a shiny piece of quartz. “Huck paid me a diamond for it though. I’m rich now.”

  “I see.” Knowing Huck’s future career as a dentist, this amused Reno no end.

  With the future in mind, he turned to Saul. “Do you think I could borrow your journal?”

  Saul appeared confused. “Why?”

  Reno grasped for an explanation. “I want to put something in it for safekeeping.”

  “I’d give it to you if I could, but…” He dropped his head, clearly upset.

  “What’s wrong?” Reno was immediately concerned.

  “I need to tell you something,” he whispered for Reno’s ears only. “When you went missing, I didn’t know what to do. With our home burned to the ground and you gone, our plans were all torn up. Mrs. Fancy has been really good to us. Everyone’s been good to us. Especially Mr. Gentry. He invited his sister to come visit, and she offered us a home.”

  Even though Reno already knew this, the news hit him like a ton of bricks. “Well, that was nice of her.” He glanced at the three younger ones. “They don’t know do they?”

  Saul shook his head. “No,
I haven’t told them. They liked her, I guess. Before she left, she took us to town and bought all kinds of clothes and toys. We were supposed to join her there in a couple of weeks. Mr. Gentry has all our new things packed up and some of our old things too. My journal is in one of those trunks. I can get it for you.” He hurried to add. “In fact, now that you are back, we don’t need to go at all. We can stay here and live in that cabin you promised us.”

  Reno didn’t know what to say. Considering the wonderful future awaiting the children, he knew Boston was a good idea. He also couldn’t forget he’d be leaving again, God willing. “Don’t worry about that now. Let me talk to Gentry. We’ll work something out.” Perhaps the move could be postponed while he was here. This time, he’d have to think of some explanation, some way of preparing the children for his absence. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll ask Gentry to return your journal. I’d still like to place a letter inside for safekeeping.”

  “Sure, Reno, I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know you would, son.” Reno knew far better than Saul how true those words would prove to be. For the remainder of the meal, he talked and teased with the children. Reno was grateful for this gift of time they could spend together.

  Once they were finished, Fancy came to take them for baths. After doling out goodnight kisses to Tess and Emory, he hugged Huck and Saul. “Sleep well, children.”

  “You’ll be here when I wake up, won’t you, Reno?” Emory asked with his turtle under his arm.

  Reno knelt to answer the child. “I’ll be traveling to Austin with King, but I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Promise?” Emory’s eyes were wide with hope.

  “I promise.” He stood, watching Fancy lead them away, his heart swelling with love. “Goodnight. Dream good dreams.”

  “Reno.”

  Hearing his name called broke Reno from his reverie. The kitchen was empty save for Gentry, who sat in front of the fireplace. “Hey. Just the man I needed to talk to.”

  “Grace me with your presence, my friend. How about a nightcap?” He held up a bottle of whiskey.

  Before sitting, Reno found a glass, then held it out for the Englishman to fill. “Saul tells me you’ve made arrangements for them to live with your sister.”

  “Yes. Considering the circumstances, I thought it was for the best. Matilda has always wanted children. After ten years, she and her husband have not conceived.” He lifted his hand to indicate their surroundings. “This cabin is spacious, but with five extra people, it’s bursting at the seams.” Gentry eyed Reno. “I know your plan is to build a cabin for yourself.”

  “Not anymore.” Reno spoke up, his eyes focused on the flames of the fire. “If possible, I’ll be leaving again.”

  Gentry sighed loudly, draining his glass. “I figured you’d say that.”

  “I have to go, Gentry. I love my wife and she’s carrying my child. I want to be with my family.”

  “I’m not arguing with you. I just hate to see the kids mourn a second time.”

  “I’ll talk to them.” He snared Gentry’s gaze with a hard look. “I knew you’d made this decision and it is a good one. They have a happy life. Your sister is good to them. She makes sure they’re educated. Saul grows up to be a lawyer. Huck is a dentist. Emory is a writer and Tess is a schoolteacher. She and her husband will live in Knoxville. Journey and I took a trip to Tennessee and I found Sojourner’s grave. Imagine my surprise when I found a Stanton cemetery on the land. Tess’s family lived on the same property. They built the cemetery around my mother’s grave. I saw Tess’s tombstone. She lives to the ripe old age of sixty-five.”

  “Do you know how spooky that sounds?”

  “I’m aware. It’s still the truth.”

  “What happens to me? Any clue on my future?”

  Taking a sip of whiskey, Reno thought a moment, then decided to be truthful. “Journey looked you up. Your future is a mystery. She told me your dukedom is listed as extinct.”

  This brought a laugh from Gentry’s lips. “Interesting.”

  “I wish I could tell you more.” He glanced toward the hall door that led to the children’s room. “Could we delay their move for a few weeks? I won’t be leaving until the next full moon.” If then.

  “Matilda will be disappointed.” Gentry seemed to ponder the idea. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Another thing, I need Saul’s journal. I want to store something in it. He said it would be all right. He mentioned you’d put it in a trunk with some things your sister bought for them.”

  “Sorry, friend.” Gentry leaned forward to stir the waning fire with the poker. “Those trunks are already on their way to Boston.”

  Reno sat up straighter. “Gentry, I need that journal. Can you get your sister to send it back?”

  “It’ll take weeks, Reno.” He poured himself another shot of whiskey. “Why can’t you use something else?”

  He stood up, then sat back down. “I promised to send Journey a letter. I told her to look for it in the journal.”

  Gentry eyed him with an incredulous expression. “I’ll admit our mail service is slow, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “It could work. You wouldn’t believe how many documents and photos were preserved. Journey’s family, Saul’s family, kept boxes of things. So, did King’s family. I saw them myself.”

  “I’m familiar with the concept, Black. England is choked by the past. But to use the process of preserving history as a way to communicate is crazy. Do you know how many hands that journal will pass through in the next one hundred-fifty years?”

  “I have to try.”

  “All right.” Gentry sat his half-empty glass on the hearth. “I tell you what we’ll do. I’ll send a telegram to my sister and have her ship it by train to the lawyer’s office in Washington. Hopefully, it will get there by the time we will.”

  Reno hated to think of Journey looking for the letter each day and not finding it, but there didn’t seem to be a better solution. “That will work. Thank you.” He stood to drink the last of his whiskey holding out his hand to take Gentry’s empty glass. “I’ll put these in the dishpan. We don’t want to create work for Fancy.”

  “No, we don’t. She has her hands full.”

  Before leaving, Reno checked his pocket watch, his finger rubbing over the engraving. The time was 9:55 p.m. “I’ll take my leave, Sir Nelson. I have a prior engagement with my wife.”

  “Do I want to know?” Gentry asked with an amused expression on his face.

  “Every night at ten, Journey and I look up at the same moon. It’s our way of staying connected.”

  “Now, I’ve heard everything.” Gentry pointed to the door. “You’d best head on out. It’s poor manners to keep a lady waiting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Journey stood on the wide verandah of her great-uncle Myles Victorian home. The wind was blowing so hard, she had to hold onto one of the posts for support.

  “I know you’re up there, you stupid moon,” she railed at the dark sky. “Why don’t you show yourself?” Despite her scolding, the moon did not show its face and neither did the stars. The only illumination was one fierce lightning strike after another. When a mighty bolt would rip through the sky, Journey could see the clouds swirling around like they were in the bowl of a huge mixer. “I’m trying, Reno. The weather isn’t cooperating!”

  “Mother Nature is certainly putting on a show. You might as well sit down and enjoy it.”

  Journey jumped a bit at the unexpected voice. She’d been alone on the porch for thirty minutes, trying to get a glimpse of the elusive moon. “Hello,” she greeted an older gentleman whose name she couldn’t remember. “I’m sorry, I’m so bad with names.”

  “George Vernon. I’m a first cousin to Myles on his mother’s side.”

  “Journey Stanton. I’m his great niece.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please do.” Journey backed up a bit to be f
ree of the blowing rain. “Whew. I’m getting drenched.”

  “Come sit on this bench, it’s somewhat protected by this trellis of magnificent purple wisteria.”

  “Thanks.” She joined him in the cozy recess. “This weather is crazy, isn’t it?”

  “It’s beautiful. I’ve chased these miracles of weather all my life.” His voice sounded wistful. “There is nothing more thrilling to me than seeing the anvil top of a big storm rising on the horizon. To me, it looks like the cloud from a hydrogen bomb.”

  “That’s an eerie comparison.”

  “They can be equally deadly, for sure.”

  “So, you’re a storm-chaser, like on the movie Twister?”

  He chuckled. “Actually, I’m a meteorologist. I’ve done everything from being a television weatherman to manning a weather research center in the Antarctic.”

  “You’ve led an interesting life. Me? I make essential oil concoctions to sell.”

  “I bet your customers are more satisfied than mine. Everybody likes to pick on the weatherman.”

  “I guess you’ve seen some monster storms in your day.” The more she encouraged this interesting little man to talk, the less time she had to miss Reno.

  “Oh, I have. Blizzards. Hurricanes. Gales. All storms are infinitely fascinating, but to me – nothing beats a good tornado.”

  “A good tornado,” Journey repeated what the man said with a touch of skepticism in her tone.

  “That’s right. Despite all the study and research, tornados remain mysterious, perhaps more mysterious than we realize. Why, the sight of a funnel can be spellbinding. After all, nothing that big should be moving. Right? And the way they do move is eerie, as if the storm itself is alive and aware. And it may be, who knows?” He laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “I suppose. I’ve never seen a tornado in person, just on television.”

  “Your luck may change tonight. Fortunately, for us. Texas has more recorded tornadoes than any other state.”

  “Fortunately?” This made her laugh.

  “Indeed. Oh, not for casualties. Loss of life is always tragic. But for someone who studies them, Texas and Tornado Alley is heaven on earth. The first recorded tornado of any size was in 1902 in Goliad. One hundred fourteen lost their lives, forty who were hiding in a church. Survivors reported a funnel-shaped cloud charged with fire and huge, rolling balls of lightning.”