“There’s fresh cake and coffee in the kitchen,” Elene Upton said. “Let’s go there.”
They all listened attentively as Kirby described the lush graze along the Green and the intention of the four friends to establish the largest horse and cattle ranch in the territory.
“How long until you aim to start the drive?” Neal Upton asked.
“We’re not sure,” said Kirby. “We’ll need time to buy some extra horses for a remuda and four thousand cows. We’ll need a couple of pack mules, and some bulls, too. Do you have anything for sale? We’re paying cash.”
“I can spare you maybe three hundred cows and a couple of bulls,” Neal Upton said. “I’ve held off as long as I could. The going price is two dollars and seventy-five cents a head, and that’s for prime stock.”
“We’ll pay three dollars and fifty cents a head for prime stock,” said Kirby.
“That’s generous of you,” Neal said. “Why don’t you bring your ma and pa over for Sunday dinner? We haven’t seen Burke and Tilda for months.”
Laura Upton winked at Kirby across the table, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak.
“I … they … we’d all like that,” said Kirby.
“I’ll ride part of the way home with you,” Laura said. “We have some catching up to do.”
Again she winked at Kirby, while Neal and Elene Upton grinned at the embarrassed cowboy.
“Lonnie,” said Mary Kilgore, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. Becky Holt’s ma and pa died when their house burned two years ago. Becky’s tried her best to hold the outfit together, but one by one her riders have quit for lack of pay. She might be willing to sell all her cattle. There’s not much else she can do, but none of the ranchers around here have the money to buy.”
“I purely hate to take advantage of somebody’s hard luck,” said Lonnie, “but I reckon I can talk to her. How old is she now?”
Willard Kilgore laughed. “Maybe a year older than you. You might sweet-talk her and get all her cows for two dollars a head.”
“Willard Kilgore,” said Mary, “I’m ashamed of you. Lonnie, if Becky’s willing to sell to you, then you treat her fair.”
“I aim to, Ma,” Lonnie said.
*These were the first “quarter horses,” but the breed was unnamed until 1941, when the American Quarter Horse Association came into existence.
*Sam Houston resigned as governor of Texas in 1861.
2
San Antonio, Texas. June 28, 1853.
Immediately after breakfast, Lonnie Kilgore rode to the Holt ranch, some ten miles to the east. As he approached, two men came out of the barn. Gus Wilder and Waco Talley had been with the Holts for as long as Lonnie could remember. The two were at the house when Lonnie reined up.
“Get down, cowboy,” said Gus.
Lonnie dismounted, shaking their hands. Both men were in their thirties, and their old hats, run-over boots, and faded Levi’s and shirts attested to some hard times.
“It’s good to see you, gents,” Lonnie said, “but I must talk to Becky. Dallas Weaver, Dirk McNelly, Kirby Lowe, and me have bought eight sections of land along Green River in northeastern Utah. We’re looking to buy cattle, horses, and mules.”
“Then I reckon Miss Becky will be glad to see you,” said Waco Talley. “She’s played out her hand. Gus and me is stayin’ until she decides what to do with this place.”
Becky Holt stepped out on the porch, closing the door behind her. The dark shadows under her eyes and the worry lines in her face made her seem older than she was. Finally she spoke.
“Come in, Lonnie, and I’d like Gus and Waco to join us. They’ve stayed with me to the end, even when I could no longer pay them. I think they deserve to know what I must do.”
Lonnie nodded, and the three cowboys followed Becky Holt into the parlor. Most of the upholstered furniture was worn threadbare. The trio sat down on a sagging couch, while Becky took a chair facing them. What she had to say was painful, and she swallowed hard before she began.
“Three years ago, we started losing more than our share of cattle to rustlers. Pa, Gus, and Waco surprised them one night, killing three of them. A few days later—during the day—the house burned. Nobody was here except Ma and Pa, and there was evidence that gunmen had trapped them in the house while it burned. There were shell casings aplenty.”
“No tracks?” Lonnie asked.
“Plenty, for a while,” Gus said, “but it was comin’ on dark, and there was some rain during the night.”
“Where we once had three thousand head of cattle, there may not even be a thousand,” said Becky. “They’re wild as Texas jacks, and it’s all but impossible for the three of us to gather them. I can’t honestly sell you cows, because I don’t know how many there are, or where they are.”
“There’s Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me,” Lonnie said. “With Gus and Waco helping, we could round them up in a few days.”
“It’s slow, hard, dangerous work,” said Becky. “I won’t have Gus and Waco taking part in this, when their wages are three months behind.”
Reaching in his pocket, Lonnie handed each of the men five double eagles. Becky Holt caught her breath, and the harsh lines in her face softened. Lonnie spoke.
“Gus, if you and Waco have nothing keeping you here, we’re needing riders to trail the herd to northeastern Utah. Riders who will stay with us.”
“Let us think on it some,” said Gus. “Before we’re done gathering the herd, we’ll have made up our minds.”
“I’ll miss you,” Becky said, “but go, with my blessing.”
Feeling their part in the discussion was over, the two cowboys got up and left the house. Lonnie spoke.
“I reckon it’s none of my business, but do you still owe money on this place?”
“Seven hundred and fifty dollars,” said Becky, “and I think the only reason the bank hasn’t called in the loan is because my pa was a longtime friend of the banker.”
“I hate to say this,” Lonnie said, “but if the bank has to foreclose, they’ll be expecting some cows in the deal. Your pa had cattle when he took out the loan, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Becky.
“Suppose we bought enough cows for you to pay off the bank?” Lonnie asked.
Becky buried her face in her hands, and it was a while before she could look at him. There were tears in the corners of her eyes, and her voice trembled.
“That’s awfully generous of you, Lonnie, but the rustlers have beaten me. I just don’t have the riders, and I can’t afford enough. I’m just hoping I can realize enough out of this place for stage fare back to Missouri.”
“You have kin there?”
“Pa does,” said Becky, “but I’ve never seen them. They didn’t like Ma, and disowned Pa after he married her.”
“So you don’t know if they’ll welcome you or not,” Lonnie said.
“No,” said Becky, “but I have nowhere else to go. I’m almost twenty-five, and I expect them to treat me like an old maid.”
“You’re anything but that,” Lonnie said. “Take that worry off your shoulders and out of your eyes, and you’d be pretty as any girl in Texas.”
“It’s kind of you to say that,” said Becky. “You’re about to make me cry, and it’s a luxury I couldn’t afford since Ma and Pa died.”
It seemed Lonnie had said all there was to say. He stood up, pausing when he reached the door. To his total surprise, Becky Holt threw her arms around him, holding him tight. He put his arms around her, and when she lifted her head, their eyes met. As though by consent, without a word being spoken, they kissed long and hard.
“In case you’re wondering,” Becky said, “that wasn’t in gratitude. I admire the kind of man you’ve become, Lonnie Kilgore, and I just hate the thought of me being in Missouri, while you’re somewhere in Utah.”
“It’ll be a while before we start the drive to Utah,” said Lonnie. “Things could change before then. When ca
n I see you again?”
“I’m here all the time,” Becky said, “but after dark, you’d better sing out, so Gus and Waco will know who you are. They’ve had a bellyful of rustlers.”
“I’ll be back tonight after supper,” said Lonnie. “There must be some way I can help you dig out of this.”
On his way back to the Kilgore ranch, his mind was a turmoil of possibilities, for he was unable to rid himself of Becky Holt’s troubled face. She was near his own age, yet he had never thought of her, except for she and her parents being friends to his family. His only ambition had been to reach the rich diggings in California. Arriving at the Kilgore barn, he unsaddled his horse, rubbed the animal down, and went on to the house. Mary, his mother, was in the kitchen baking pies. It was hot in the kitchen, and she came into the dining room, wiping her sweating face with a towel. Lonnie had sat down at the table, and Mary sat down on a chair across from him.
“It’s too hot, being in the kitchen,” Lonnie said. “It must be a hundred degrees in the shade.”
“I’m baking you some pies while I can,” said Mary. “You likely won’t have anything like that in the wilds of Utah. Besides, I may never see you again.”
“Oh, Ma,” Lonnie said, fanning himself with his hat, “I came home this time, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Mary, “but to buy stock. You won’t have to do that again. What did you learn at Becky Holt’s place?”
“That she’s in over her head,” Lonnie said. “If the bank calls in the loan, they’ll take everything, including the cattle. She won’t have anything left to sell.”
“That’s what your pa says,” said Mary. “He’s tried to raise enough money among the other ranchers to pay off her mortgage, but nobody has any money to spare. Many of them are behind on their own loans at the bank.”
“Ma,” Lonnie said, “I have the money to pay off Becky’s place free and clear, without it affecting our drive to Green River.”
“That’s generous of you, Lonnie, but without riders and money to pay them, she’d be in trouble again within a few months. She can ride, rope, and shoot like a man, but it’s taking its toll on her. It’s one thing for a woman to have a strong man beside her, and yet another when she’s alone, with everything falling on her shoulders. Did she tell you what she aims to do when the bank takes her place?”
“She’s talking of going to Missouri to stay with some of her pa’s family,” said Lonnie, “but I think she’s just desperate. When Walt Holt married Fannie, he was disowned by his family. At least that’s what Becky told me.”
“You’ve learned more from her than any of the rest of us,” Mary Kilgore said. “When will you see her again?”
“Tonight,” said Lonnie, not meeting his mother’s eyes.
“Then we’ll have supper early,” Mary said, “and you can take Becky one of these pies.”
Eventually Willard Kilgore rode in, and Lonnie joined him on the front porch. Talk turned almost immediately to Becky Holt and her seemingly impossible situation.
“Son,” said Willard, “there’s only one way Becky Holt can come out of this short of bein’ stone broke. She’s got to pay off what she owes the bank, so she can legally sell the cattle she has left. Otherwise, they’ll belong to the bank, too.”
“I know,” Lonnie said. “With her two riders, Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me, we could round up the cattle she has left and find out where she stands.”
“She might have far more cattle than she thinks,” said Willard Kilgore. “Rustlers won’t drag the wild ones out of the brush, and that’s likely where the most of them are.”
After supper, Lonnie rode back to the Holt ranch, one of Mary’s pies wrapped in a clean flour sack. Gus and Waco came out of the barn, recognized Lonnie, and returned to whatever they had been doing. Becky sat on the front porch, and it was obvious to Lonnie that she had taken some time preparing for his visit. He dismounted and climbed the steps to the porch.
“Ma sent you a pie,” he said by way of greeting. “I like that dress you’re wearing.”
“It’s the best I have,” she said. “I last wore it to Ma and Pa’s funeral.”
“Becky,” said Lonnie, wasting no time, “I’m going to pay off what you owe the bank.”
“I can’t let you do it,” Becky said. “I’d have no way of repaying you.”
“All you need is two hundred and fifty cows at three dollars a head,” said Lonnie. “Surely you have that many. With Gus and Waco helping, Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me can round them up. All of us will be meeting at Pa’s ranch on July Fourth. I want you, Gus, and Waco there.”
“Lonnie, I appreciate what you’re doing,” she said, but the sad expression in her dark eyes cast a shadow on her words.
“None of this is going to make you happy, is it?” Lonnie asked.
“No,” said Becky. “I was born here, and however hard the times were, it was home. I have this feeling, deep down, that I won’t ever be happy with Pa’s relations, even if they take me in. I don’t mind the hard life on a ranch, and if I could do it all by myself, then I would. But with the rustling, and cattle prices down, and money owed to the bank, I’m whipped.”
“Becky Holt,” Lonnie said, “when I left here four years ago, I had a mean case of the wanderlust, but this morning, when I saw you, something happened to me. That’s why I’m here tonight, to ask you the most important question I’ve ever asked anybody.”
She didn’t dare look at him. He took her face in both his hands, and her eyes were closed. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, which had been tanned by sun and wind. For just a moment, Lonnie feared she wasn’t going to respond, and then she did. She clung to him until her tears dried, and when her eyes finally met his, something deep inside—not unlike the awareness of salvation—told him he was doing the right thing for them both.
“Becky,” said Lonnie, “I want you to marry me.”
“But I might not have even enough cows to pay off the mortgage at the bank,” she said.
“Damn the mortgage at the bank,” Lonnie said. “I want you, and I don’t care if there’s not a single cow left on this range. I’ll pay what’s owed the bank so you don’t lose the place your pa homesteaded. My pa can look after it, making use of the graze and water, and we’ll round up all the cattle we can find. Now, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “When?”
“July Fourth,” said Lonnie. “Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby will be at my pa’s place. Be sure that Gus and Waco come with you, and you can tell them about us, if you want to.”
“I wish you would stay the night,” Becky said. “I’d just like to show you how happy I am.”
Lonnie laughed. “I don’t dare. After I’ve made you an honest woman, you can have your way with me.”
When Dallas and Mindy Odens rode in to the Weaver ranch, Elvie Weaver stood on the porch. Dallas dismounted and helped Mindy down. His mother’s eyes were full of questions, but Dallas didn’t wait for them.
“Ma, I’m taking Mindy back to Utah with me, whatever her pa says or does. Mindy, I want you to go in the house and show Ma how badly you’ve been beaten. If the sheriff shows up, we may need her to speak up for you. I’ll unsaddle the horses.”
Mindy followed the older woman into the house and wordlessly removed her clothes.
With a gasp, Elvie Weaver wept as she beheld the welts and scars inflicted by the brutal beatings Mindy had suffered.
“Ma’am, I don’t want to be any trouble,” Mindy said.
“Hush,” said Elvie Weaver. “If he shows up trying to take you back, I’ll get a gun and shoot him myself. Come on in here and lie down across the bed so I can doctor you.”
Having unsaddled the horses, Dallas went on to the house. He sat down on the porch, waiting. He had no doubt his mother was doctoring Mindy as best she could. While he did not for a moment regret taking Mindy away from her abusive father, he would have to see that she was always with him until they were ready for the drive to the Green Ri
ver range. He had little doubt that Jess Odens would come looking for the girl and that the situation might well involve the law, but he was equally certain that he wasn’t giving Mindy up.
It was late when Lonnie Kilgore returned to the Kilgore ranch, and he was surprised to find a lamp burning in the parlor. Mary Kilgore sat beside the lamp, sewing.
“You’re up kind of late, Ma,” Lonnie said.
“I had some sewing I’d been putting off,” said Mary. “Besides, I wanted to know what you’ve decided to do where Becky Holt’s concerned.”
Lonnie laughed. “I’ve decided to marry her and take her to Utah with me. Does that meet with your approval?”
“You know it does,” Mary said. “I stopped just short of suggesting it, because Willard told me to keep my mouth shut. When will you marry?”
“Right here, on July Fourth,” said Lonnie, “Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby will be meeting me here. We’ll be taking Becky’s last two riders with us to Utah, and with Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me helping, we should be able to round up what’s left of Becky’s cattle. With some of the money I would have needed to buy stock, I’m paying off Becky’s mortgage at the bank. We want Pa to keep an eye on the place, using the land for graze as he needs it.”
“I don’t think you should count too much on Becky’s cattle,” said Mary. “The rustlers have taken advantage of her, and she may not have a cow left.”
“Ma, just calm down,” Lonnie said. “I’m marrying Becky, not her cattle or the ranch. If she’s been rustled dry, then we’ll manage. If Pa’s agreeable, I’d like for us to have some real festivities on the Fourth. You know, some cakes, pies, and two or three haunches of roast beef.”
Mary laughed. “When Willard learns you’re marrying Becky Holt, nothing will be too much to ask. He’s been worried about what was to become of her, and lamenting all of us being too up against it to help her. We hate to lose you to Utah Territory, but we’ll feel better knowing Becky’s with you.”
San Antonio, Texas. July 4, 1835
The Green River Trail Page 4
