by Danni Roan
The Travels of Titus
Brides of Needful Texas
Danni Roan
Published by Danni Roan, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE TRAVELS OF TITUS
First edition. January 11, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 Danni Roan.
Written by Danni Roan.
Danni roan
The Travels of Titus
Tales from Biders Clump
Danni Roan
10/1/2018
Leaving behind the only home he’s ever known and trusting his little brothers to providence Titus Smith strikes out on his own to find a way to pull his family back together. Desperate for work he falls in with a cattle outfit that shows him the ropes but when rustlers threaten the drive he could lose everything.
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Chapter 1
TITUS TOPPED THE RIDGE and scanned the gulley below. The herd had been on the trail for nearly five weeks, and last night they’d lost another sixty head. Rustlers had been picking off little groups of cows for the past three nights, and they were down nearly two-hundred head.
The whole crew needed to find the miscreants that were stealing their lively hood. Fewer cows meant less money, and on top of that the boss would probably take some of the loss out of the wrangler’s pay.
Titus couldn’t afford to lose even a dime; he was desperate to earn enough money to send for his brothers. It had already been six months since he’d walked away telling them to find a farm or a shop where they could earn their keep.
When Titus’ parents had died leaving him as head of the household, nearly two years ago he’d tried to make a go of it with the farm, but he could barely grow enough food to keep his brothers fed. When the bank had finally come looking for their payment, he’d had no choice but to give up.
He had sold off the stock and a few farm implements, but there hadn’t been enough to provide for three boys, and he knew something had to be done.
Weighing his options Titus had saddled the old mule, given his brothers each a silver dollar to hide in their boot for emergencies and turned toward ranch land.
Ranchers always needed good hands, and he had never been afraid of hard work, even if he was only eighteen. He’d been doing a man’s work along with his father for years.
Pushing his hat down over his eyes to combat the glare of the sun Titus thought of his brothers. Not a day went by that he didn’t worry about them.
He prayed every day that they had found someplace safe where they would at least have enough to eat.
A glint, a glimmer of light sparked in the distance and something slammed into him, ripping through his bicep and bounding against his head.
The distant bark of a rifle echoing through the canyon below was the last sound Titus heard as the world went black.
Chapter 2
“CON-SARNIT BITTY, where’d you get off to now?” Jedidiah Farley grumbled as he followed the tracks of his usually docile donkey along a wash.
“Ain’t like you to go a wandering off like this.” The old timer had gotten so used to the faithful pack animal trailing along behind him that he’d given up on lead lines long ago.
Stopping in the middle of a rocky rise to catch his breath, he ran a hand down his long white beard, pulled up his trousers and gazed around him.
Something was not right, and he could feel it in his bones. This section of Nevada was prime country for hiding outlaws and scaly-wags of all sorts. What if one of them had up and stole his little Bitty?
No, there wasn’t any point in thinking such things. He’d just see where the little jenny had taken herself and then head back toward his claim.
Grinning Jedidiah, or Jed as he was known, scratched a back pocket and trudged further up the hill. It was still early, and the morning sun hadn’t warmed the rocks up yet, so a little exertion wouldn’t do him any harm.
Dropping down into a bowl, old Jed stopped short examining the scene before him then rubbed his eyes to be sure they weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Well I’ll be,” he mumbled. “Bitty what’d you find yourself?”
Jed stumped his way toward the little donkey that carried all his worldly possessions where she stood hip to nose with a long legged brown mule.
“You find yourself a new friend?” he laughed, stepping around the donkey only to stop short. “Jumpin’ Jehosephat!” he exclaimed kneeling next to the body on the ground.
“You dead young fellar?” Jed asked, leaning over to see if the man was still breathing. “If you’re dead I ain’t burryin’ ya.” He continued, “I’m too old ta be diggin’ graves for young fella’s who ain’t got the sense not to show themselves on a ridge.”
Gently he patted the young man’s face and the boy groaned.
“Well he ain’t dead Bitty,” Jed continued chattering to his donkey. “Looks like someone took a pot shot at ‘em though.”
Scratching his beard, old Jed pondered what to do. The boy wasn’t dead, but he would be if something wasn’t done. There was no telling how long he’d been laying out here in the elements.
“I guess we’ll take him along with us and see what’s what. If he’s a bad’un, I’ll knock him over the head and take him to the law. Mebe’ get me a re-ward.”
Chuckling, Jed pushed Bitty closer to the lanky mule then dragged the leggy fellow with brown hair up over his shorter donkey’s back and then on to the mule.
“Don’t look at me like that Bitty. I’m an old man. I can’t just lift the fella like a sack ‘o grain ya know.” He chuckled at how he’d used the smaller animal like a step ladder.
Shaking his head he pulled a hand full of grain from a pocket and fed it to the donkey, then handed over a little to the mule.
“Well let’s get a move on,” he said tugging on the mules lines. “I ain’t waitin’ around here to see if the ones what shot this galloot’s still around. Only another hour and we’ll be at my place any who.”
“TITUS’ HEAD POUNDED, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. The gentle plod of hooves drifted to him on a warm breeze, and he wondered if he was still in the saddle.
Occasional snippets of conversation made him try to dig his way from the darkness that overwhelmed him, but inevitably the deep black of unconsciousness always won.
He could tell he was moving; somewhere in his brain something registered a steady plod, but he couldn’t rouse himself from the stupor that overwhelmed him.
As the beast beneath him came to a stop, he rolled his head, his eyes flicking open enough to see a grizzled old man with a white beard reaching up for him.
“Well, I guess you might live yet.” The words felt muted like they were coming from under water. “Reckon Bitty did good ta find you.”
Titus felt himself being pulled down from a high perch and landed none too ge
ntly on the cool earth, but then the darkness claimed him once more.
Something was cooking. It was the next thought that he had. There was food, and the sound of metal on metal.
Titus pried open eyes that felt like they’d been glued shut then squinted at the flickering light of a fire.
An old man with a long white beard squatted by the flames, a frying pan in one hand and a long ladle in the other.
He pushed himself up on an elbow, closing his eyes once more as the world tilted and spun around him turning his stomach over in the process.
A soft snort behind him made him open his eyes again as he looked into the soft muzzle of a nearly white donkey.
“I guess you’re awake young fella,” the old timer said, his voice loud and harsh in the stillness of the night. “Bitty, you git and leave that fella alone now.” He finished, waving at the animal.
“Where, where am I?” Titus asked trying to remember what had happened to him.
“You’re with old Jed is where you is,” the old man chortled, “and still on this earth ta boot.”
Titus touched a finger to his head feeling a bandage wrapped tight around his crown.
“What happened?”
“You tell me,” The old time said. “Me and Bitty found you along the trail. Well, she found you, and I had to find her anyway.”
Pushing himself up into a seated position Titus groaned.
“Now you take it easy young fella, you had a nasty knock on the head. Looks ta me like someone shot ya.”
“Why would someone shoot me?”
“I don’t know I ain’t got a clue who ya is or nothin’. Me I’m just being a good Samaritan like the Good Book says.”
Placing the pan on a rock by the fire the old man rose and walked over to where Titus sat holding his head.
“I don’t know if you can hold it down or not, but let’s get you up to the fire, and see if some vittles will do you any good.”
He reached down hauling Titus to his feet and waiting as the boy swayed like a sapling in a storm then hobbled over to the fire.
“Thank you.” Titus said.
“Jed, just call me Jed, and you’re welcome.” Jed said helping the young man to take a seat.
“What should I call you?”
Titus ran a hand over the bandage on his head feeling the heavy throb with every heart beat, the steady rhythm thrumming in his blank brain.
“What’d ya say your name was boy?” Jed prompted after a full minute.
“I,” Titus gazed around him, “I don’t know.”
Chapter 3
“I GOTTA CALL YOU SOMETHIN’.” Old Jed grumbled as he stared at Titus across the fire the next morning.
Titus had managed to get some food in him and then promptly go back to sleep.
“I’m sorry old-timer; I don’t have one for you.”
“You lying to me son?” Jed squinted at him suspiciously.
“No sir, I just can’t seem to remember anything.”
“How ‘bout you check your saddle bags, and see if you go somethin’ in there what’s got a name on it.”
Titus rose shakily and headed for his saddle opening the leather bags strapped to the swells and rummaging through.
He had a change of clothes, a mending kit, a knife, and a camp kit with a plate, mug and silver ware.
“I don’t see anything,” he called back to Jed. He had no idea who he was, or what he’d been doing out here in the wilds of Nevada, and no idea where he’d come from.
“Well dig around a bit.” Jed prompted.
Digging further, he pulled out a small card, simply drawn and carefully printed.
“Good luck Titus, see you next time you get home, Abner.”
“What’d ya find?” Jed asked, stepping up to the young man.
“A card.”
“Well what’s it say?”
Titus read the card, but nothing about it triggered a memory.
“Titus,” Jed mused tugging at his whiskers. “Well I reckon I can call ya Titus, was gonna call ya Sam, but I’ll adjust to Titus if you will.”
Titus Smith shrugged his shoulders; it fit as well as anything else.
“Anything else on that there card?” the old man asked.
“No sir, just what I read.”
“Well, probably some kin somewhere. Don’t you worry none about it. You can stay here and help me work my claim for a while, and maybe you’ll remember where you come from before too long.”
Titus stuck out his hand, “Thanks old timer,” he offered, “Thanks for everything.
IT WAS DAYS BEFORE Titus was on his feet again and able to move around the camp without assistance or without feeling like he was about to go face down in the dirt with his next step.
He started out slowly cooking meals for himself and Jed, and then progressed to moving the stock so they could graze on the sparse grass, yucca, and shrubs near the old man’s camp.
“It ain’t a great place, but I seen some color so far, least enough to make it worth my time,” Old Jed said, one night over dinner. “Reckon I’ll see it through.”
Titus laughed; as camps went the place wasn’t terrible. There was a spring nearby where animals came to drink, and he was able to catch some jack rabbits to add to the meals.
There was enough grazing for a donkey and the leggy mule that he’d been found with, so for now at least there was nothing pushing him to move on.
The fact that he had no idea where to move on to helped him determine to just stay.
Every day he hoped that his memory would come back, that something would trigger who he was, where he’d come from, or what he’d been doing on the trail where he’d been found.
Each night as he and Jed sat around the fire they discussed his potential past.
Jed thought that he was probably with some cattle outfit moving through the area that had been waylaid by rustlers or other ne’re do wells.
“What if I’m a rustler?” Titus has asked.
“If you was a rustler, what was ya doing riding that there mule, and not some fine horse ya done stole?” Jed had argued.
Titus scratched his head, “Maybe I wasn’t a very good one,” he joked, but the possibility nagged at him.
What kind of man was he? Was he a farmer, a husband, a brother? He didn’t know.
“Well if you’re that worried about it when we get back into Hester you can visit the Sheriff and let him decide.”
Titus chuckled, “that’d be one way to find out,” he agreed.
“In the mean time ain’t no reason you can’t work here with me, and if ya do a good job, I’ll split whatever we find.”
Titus smiled at the old man. “You don’t have to split it old-timer,” he said. “I’m happy to work for my keep.”
An odd recollection seemed to nag at his brain as he said the words. Had he done this before? Perhaps he was a wonderer who worked a while then moved on. The thought was a wraith, a wisp of smoke that he couldn’t capture or hang onto.
The days turned into weeks and by applying his ample muscle to pick and shovel Titus had helped Jed follow the seam of silver through the dusty brown rock.
Each night they cleaned up the ore they’d found, extracted the silver and pushed the rubble into a heap.
“Startin’ ta add up now, it is,” Jed said one night. “Why I reckon we’ve got neigh unto two hundred dollars worth of color here now.”
“Sounds like a lot of money,” Titus agreed, “but our supplies aren’t gone yet, and we could do a little more.”
“You’re sure an eager beaver,” Jed commented. “I guess you have plans for your half.”
Titus shook his head, “No, it’s just that something keeps nagging at the back of my mind. It’s as if I know I need that money for something, but I don’t know what.”
Jed, rose, tossed the remains of his coffee in the fire and laid a hand on his companion’s shoulder.
“Ain’t no use worryin’ about it now,” he said kindly. “It
’ll come to ya when it’s s’posed ta.”
Titus nodded sadly. He wished he could put a finger on his past, find out where he belonged, or where he’d been going.
“For now we got about a week’s worth of grub left, so’s we’ll just work on until we need ta get ta town.” Jed grinned, his long white beard wiggling with the motion. “Now let’s get some sleep. I plan on being a wealthy man by close of day tomorry.”
Together they chuckled, doused the fire and rolled into their respective bedrolls. Only time would tell what secrets his past held.
Chapter 4
“YOU’RE REALLY GONNA do it ain’t ya?” Jed asked as he picked up the lead rope of his donkey. “You’re gonna take yourself to the Sheriff over ta Hester, and see if you’re a wanted man.”
“I am,” Titus said. “If nothing else maybe he’ll know of someone who went missing, or if someone’s been reported killed.”
“Well it don’t make no sense to me,” Jed said. “Ifn’ you was an outlaw, I think you’d wanna’ stay as far away from the Sheriff as you can, so to my thinkin’ you must be an honest man.”
Titus smiled, “Then I don’t have anything to worry about do I?”
Jed shook his head, shooing the younger man with his hand. “You do what you like, but the first thing I’m doing when I draw my money is get me a bath.”
Titus laughed, days of hard work and the constant dust of their job had baked a hard rind on both of them, and even with a quick wash at the spring, the dirt and dust of a mining operation had worked its way into everything.
“Maybe I’ll do the same,” he commented, “then the Sherriff will be able to see my face properly.” He laughed at the look Jed shot him, but noted the old man’s hidden smile.
