Sagebrush

by William Wayne Dicksion

  “That sounds like an interesting trip,” Sage mused. “I wish I could go with you.”

  “Yeah, I wish you were going with us, too. We could sure use your skills on this trip.” Pat smiled. “But you have your work cut out for you here, so I’ll be seeing you when we come back through.”

  * * *

  Margarita’s was crowded. Greetings came from every corner of the cantina. Maggie took them to a table and sat with them.

  She said, “Mi amigos, everyone in Santa Fe has heard of what you’ve done. Whatever you want, food, drink, girls, just name it and it’s yours.”

  Pat hugged Maggie and said, “Maggie, we came here for food and drinks. We would enjoy listening to the music and watching your girls dance. We accept your offer of a drink, and then we want to buy a round of drinks for everybody in the cantina. So, bring us three tequilas and three of your best steaks!”

  Two miners came over and said, “Gracias, Señor. We owe you a very great debt. We no longer work in fear.”

  “Si, Señor,” Sage smiled, “but you owe me no debt. I’m pleased to have your friendship. Tomorrow you’ll be working in the sunlight. Tell the miners, all of them who would like to work, to come to El Rancho Diego tomorrow morning and bring their tools. We’ll be rerouting part of the river to run it through the grounds of the hacienda.”

  The miners replied, “We’ll be there, Señor.”

  * * *

  Men from all over the area were at the cantina. Mountain men, most of whom were friends of Pat and Joe, Grant Davis, and a few of the men from the wagon train, were seated at a table nearby, as well as vaqueros from many of the other ranches, and some from the Diego ranch and from the ranch now being managed by Joe.

  In one corner was a group of men who had come west to prospect for gold. Many men were moving west now, some for adventure, some for the riches they had heard were to be had, some to escape from the law. Most were good men, but a few were looking to take from others what they themselves did not want to work for.

  Four such men came from the corner table, and one of them said to Sage, “We’ve heard of this wild man from the plains. We heard you’ve killed many men. I want to see if you’re really that tough.”

  “I came here to have a drink with my friends,” Sage replied. “I would like to be your friend. Would you have a drink with me?”

  “We don’t drink with cowards,” the belligerent stranger said.

  Grant and three men from the wagon train stood up. “We owe these men a great debt,” Grant said. “If you come against them, you’ll have to deal with us. And I can tell you right now, there is not a coward among them.”

  The other mountain men stood up, and one of them said, “If this man is a friend of Pat Connors, he’s a friend of ours. You’ll have to deal with us, also.”

  The miners stood. The vaqueros stood. One of the vaqueros said, “Señor, this man has earned, or bought, everything he has; he has taken nothing, or anything, from anybody. The men he killed were trying to kill either him or someone he had sworn to protect.”

  Joe agreed. “I owe this man my life, and I can tell you with absolute certainty, he’s no coward. You have a choice: you can drink, or you can die. You decide, and you’d better decide right now.”

  “I want to be your friend,” Sage repeated. “Will you have a drink?”

  The spokesman for the belligerents said, with a sneer on his face, “Well, fellows, I’m going to enjoy that drink; how about you?”

  “Maggie,” Pat asked, “please send four drinks to their table.”

  Maggie muttered, “It’s a waste of good tequila, but I’ll take the drinks myself.” She took the tequila to their table and told them, “This is my cantina. Now drink, then leave, and don’t come back. Señor McBain may want to be your friend, but I don’t. Men like you cost me too much business. There are other cantinas in Santa Fe. When you go to them, you’ll drive their business to me.” She then returned to tell Pat, “They enjoyed their drinks so much they decided to move to another cantina where they can have another.”

  Pat laughed. “Maggie, I’m surprised at you, running off good customers like that.”

  “They’ll bring me more business by going to another cantina,” Maggie replied.

  Sage laughed and said, “I don’t think they’ll be missed.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Return to Indian Country

  “Pat, I have silver bullion to sell—where do I sell it?” Sage asked.

  “There are men here in Santa Fe who’ll buy it,” Pat replied, “but you could get twice as much for it in St. Louis. The men who own the mule train will haul it for you. But they’ll charge you a lot to haul it, and there’s no guarantee it will get to St. Louis. There’s always a chance you’ll lose it to the Indians or to bandits along the way, but if you get it there, it will bring a good price.”

  “It looks like I may have to take it to St. Louis myself. I could hire drivers and ride scout, and we’ll go along as part of the mule train. That way, we’ll strengthen their train, and they’ll give us cover.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I think they’ll go for it. We could talk to them and see.”

  “Thank you, Pat. I’ll talk to Becknell. I want to see Bent’s Trading Post, anyway.”

  “I’ll go with you. I want to buy supplies for the journey to California. Could we leave tomorrow morning? It’s a two-day journey each way.”

  “No, I can’t go tomorrow. I have to be at the ranch with Juanita and Carlos, but we could leave day after tomorrow. I’ll bring a couple of pack mules and two handlers to haul the things we want to buy. Will that be enough?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be enough. Grant might want to come along. He could bring his own mules. He’ll probably want some things, also.”

  “Good, we’ll have plenty of men in case we run into trouble. I’ll see you here, day after tomorrow. I’ll bring two mules and two handlers. I’m going to get some sleep. I’ve got to be at the hacienda early to help get the men started digging. We’re channeling water through the grounds of the hacienda.”

  “Hmm, that sounds like quite a job,” Joe said. “I’ve got to see Frank. He’ll want to be with me when we get started at the ranch. I’d like to buy more Arabian stock, to go with the two you brought. You’ll have to choose another mount if I am going to use that stallion for breeding.”

  “All right,” Sage agreed. “Pick out the best mustang we have in exchange for the stallion. The horse you pick must be either brown or black. I don’t want my horse to attract attention. White horses are pretty, but it isn’t healthy to ride one in Indian country. They’re too easy to spot. I’ll bring the stallion by and make the exchange tomorrow night, after I have dinner with Juanita.”

  * * *

  Sage arrived at the hacienda just after sunrise. Juanita had breakfast ready.

  She said, “I knew you would be early, and I wanted to serve your breakfast. I missed you last night.”

  “I thought of you last night, too. Thinking of you keeps me awake most every night,” Sage said as he embraced Juanita. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about. I want to take the silver to St. Louis and trade it for gold coins. We can get twice as much for the silver in St. Louis as we can get for it here. I’m going to Indian Territory anyway, and if I go with the wagons, I can make sure the bullion gets to St. Louis.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. We could make the exchange from dollars to pesos any time. We’ll have all the money we need. We could take the bullion to Mexico City, but it takes too long to make that journey. This way, we’ll have both American and Mexican money.” Juanita looked at Sage with concern. “There’s trouble brewing between the United States and Mexico. We should be prepared for whatever happens. It’s good we have the land registered in both our names. There are more and more gringos coming into Santa Fe all the time. With my Mexican citizenship and your U.S. citizenship, we should be able to protect the ranch no matter which way the trouble goes.”
<
br />   Sage was amazed—he had no idea she was that aware of what was going on outside the ranch. He was proud of her; not only was she very beautiful, she was also very smart.

  The miners were just gathering for their day’s work, and Carlos was giving them instructions. After that was done, Carlos came to Sage and said, “Buenos dias, Señor, Señorita.”

  Buenos dias, Carlos,” Sage replied.

  Sage showed Carlos and Juanita where the stream would be diverted, and they would take only a small portion of the water from the river. They planned to build a holding pond from which to draw water, so that the amount of water running through the diversionary stream would remain constant under all conditions. They laid out the path the stream would follow, and then dug the trench on through the hacienda to where it would irrigate the fields before it reentered the river.

  The women were thrilled that they wouldn’t have to go so far to get water, and the children could play along the stream. By irrigating the plants in the courtyard, it would make the place more beautiful. The miners were glad to be working in the open instead of working in the dark mine. They were good at moving dirt, and the work proceeded rapidly. All Carlos had to do was tell them what he wanted, and they knew how to do it. The project would be completed in less time than Sage had estimated.

  The workers lined the streambed with rocks to prevent erosion. It would be good to have flowers, trees, and shrubs growing along the new stream. The women brought food and drinks. Everyone was looking forward to getting the work done so they could see the finished project.

  At the end of the day, Sage went to the river, bathed, and changed into fresh clothes. He wanted to look good, for he was having dinner with Juanita. This would be the first dinner together at El Casa Grande. The ladies doing the cooking and serving were excited as they knew this was an important occasion for everyone concerned. Juanita wanted it to be attractive to the man she loved, and Sage wanted time alone with her.

  Juanita chose the veranda as the place for their dinner—the veranda was where the Diego family had dined for three generations. There were memories there. The hacienda was as she remembered it before her mother and father had been killed by the Apaches. But it had not been a happy place since her uncle took over the management of the ranch.

  Sage and Juanita heard men playing guitars, the women were dancing, and the children playing. Juanita had about lost hope that it would ever be this happy again. She was grateful to Sage and his friends for making it possible.

  The ladies served veal, with wine, and dessert. They lit the table with candles and graced it with flowers. The food was served with the finest Spanish silverware. No king and queen ever dined more elegantly.

  After dinner, Sage and Juanita strolled through the grounds. The men serenaded them, the ladies curtsied, and the children came to hold their hands.

  Juanita’s skirt swirled around her long shapely legs and the candlelight sparkled in her soft brown eyes. She was the most beautiful woman Sage had ever seen. They strolled back to the privacy of the veranda where he took her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that took her breath away. She returned the kiss with an eagerness that pleased him. She loved to feel his strength as she nestled closer into his arms. He looked at her amorously.

  She slowly shook her head and said, “Mañana. There are too many people around us right now. When we make love, it has to be special.”

  Sage held her close, nodded his head, and repeated, “Mañana. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I’ll see you when I return from the trading post. I’ll be back in time for Joe and Bonnie’s wedding.”

  Juanita said, “Vaya con dios.”

  Sage mounted his Arabian stallion and rode to his ranch to exchange horses.

  * * *

  Everything was quiet at the McBain Ranch. Most of the vaqueros had gone with Señora Cordova to Mexico. Bonnie’s family had moved into the big house to help Joe get the horse ranch going; Thelma was helping Bonnie get ready for the wedding.

  It took four people working full-time to care for the big house: one doing the cooking, one the cleaning and keeping of the house, another woman and her husband taking care of the courtyard and doing the repairs that were needed.

  Bonnie—the lady of the house—managed the people and assigned their duties. The system worked well indeed. It was a big responsibility for the lady of the house, for she had to greet and care for the guests, as well as make sure the duties were performed well. Being kind and helpful to those who served the household was an important part of the job. Bonnie was well suited for the task; she was naturally kind and caring.

  Sage commented to Joe, “Bonnie will make a great lady of the house; everybody loves her.”

  The wedding was only one week away. Sage and Pat would be gone for three days, maybe four, on their journey to Bent’s Fort. They would be back in time, but Bonnie was nervous. The wagon train would leave only two days after the wedding. It seemed that everything was happening at once. New lives were being started. Old friends were parting for a lifetime. It was a sad time, but it was also a happy time. There was little chance that the people who were going on to California would ever see again the people they were leaving. The distance to California was too great.

  Sage stayed in one of the guest rooms. He would be gone before sunup with the mules and the drivers to meet Pat at Maggie’s.

  * * *

  Sage and his men arrived at Maggie’s as the sun was breaking the horizon. Pat was already there. Maggie fixed everyone a hearty breakfast. Grant was there with trading goods to trade for the things the travelers of the wagon train wanted. The westward travelers had seen the new six-shot revolvers and wanted them. They remembered the Indian raids and wanted to be prepared should it happen again. Grant told them this time their problem would be with the desert and the difficult mountain trails, but the new guns would come in handy should they encounter trouble.

  The small group of men, with the four mules, traveled northeast through the semiarid foothills to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The morning was bright and crisp, with the sun shining on snow-capped peaks. Herds of antelope and elk grazed in the meadows. The hillsides were covered with tall pines. There was majesty about it. Everything seemed so peaceful.

  “Don’t be fooled by this peaceful feeling,” Pat remarked. “This land can be harsh.”

  Sage was wearing buckskins. The horse Joe had chosen for him was strong and bred to the mountains. Sage liked his horse—he was half-mustang and eager for the journey. The mustang had a soft brown color that blended well with the terrain. Sage felt good about being out in the wild again; he was at home. All of his old senses were awakened, and he felt alive and a part of it. He thought the mules would be slow, but they weren’t. They were better on the mountain trails than the horses. At times, they were stubborn, but their handlers were up to the task, and they, too, were enjoying the trip.

  They had packed food for the journey. They stopped in a glen by a mountain stream to eat their midday meal and allow the animals to rest and graze. Sage sensed that Pat was also feeling at home in the mountains, and again he saw why he was called a mountain man. He was equally at home here or in Santa Fe.

  Early in the afternoon, they saw a party of ten Indians. Sage sensed that they meant no harm.

  Pat said, “They’re an Arapaho hunting party.”

  The Indians were wary of the white men and stopped a short distance away.

  Pat signaled to them and then said to Sage, “Come with me.” They went to the Indians, and Pat told them why he and his companions were passing through their hunting grounds.

  Sage remembered some of the words the Arapaho were using—words he had learned when he was with Evening Star. He asked them about the tribe of Arapaho he had known in Indian Territory. They said that they knew of the tribe, but they knew very little about them other than that their chief was called Chief Long Knife. They had heard that the tribe was still having difficulty with the Comanche and the Kiowa. Pat ga
ve them tobacco and salt. The Indians gave Pat blue stones called “turquoise,” like the ones they wore as ornaments. The Indians raised their hands in salutation and rode away.

  Sage was impressed by how well Pat spoke their language.

  “I lived among them several years ago,” Pat explained. “Most of the time they want to be friendly. If you know them, you can tell when they are not friendly or when they want to take what you have. They always want wool blankets and metal tools. They like salt and tobacco, but they prefer knives and axes. Guns are not much use to them because they have no powder or shot. That may change, now that they can use cartridges, like the ones in the new guns. It would be bad for white men if Indians ever get guns.”

  Pat found a sheltered spot for the night, near running water, with plenty of grass for the animals and a supply of wood for their campfire.

  While the others were setting up camp, Sage moved off into the hills and returned with a deer ready to be cooked. Pat and Grant were aware of Sage’s skill at hunting, but the mule handlers were not. They had not heard a gun fired and was amazed that Sage could come back so soon with a fully dressed animal without firing his gun.

  Pat smiled and explained, “He’s had lots of practice and can get food anytime he wants it.”

  After they tended the animals, they sat around the fire talking. Pat told stories of his adventures in the mountains. He told them about living with the Indians and learning to speak five Indian languages. Grant told about his life on the trail with wagon trains. He said that handling the problems the people have between themselves can be just about as difficult as handling the problems with the Indians or the terrain.

  “Men and women can find the damnedest things to argue about,” Grant chuckled, “when they’re restrained for long periods of time. Even though the wagon train is traveling through wide-open spaces, the people are still confined in a group.”