A Windswept Promise

by Brandi Boddie

  The Assurance train station was a mile and a half outside town. Built upon the connecting tracks from the Claywalk line, the little depot provided a marker of civilization amid the wind-worn shrubs and the grass that turned brown under the hot sun. Weeds sprouted along the border of the tracks, threatening to creep through the gravel and into the ballasts.

  Sophie and David made their way to the building. The simple structure of wood and brick was built on the same level as the train platform, still in the process of being made larger to accommodate increased passengers and freight. Sophie glanced at the clock mounted on the side of the building.

  “The train should be arriving in seventeen minutes.” She read the schedule posted below the clock.

  “You should ask those folks to sign.” David referred to the people gathering beside the platform. One middle-aged man and his wife sat waiting on the long bench. A woman traveling with two small children walked to the platform, carrying a carpetbag. After inquiring as to their town residency, Sophie got a signature from the woman. The older couple declined.

  As Sophie waited for the approaching train in the distance, she saw movement to her left. Turning, she discovered five of the new black settlers, two young men and three women. She recognized two of the women, a mother and her daughter, from having seen them seated in the same pew near Dusty in church.

  The daughter spotted her and held eye contact. She broke away from her party and came forward. Her mother appeared to call out to her, but Sophie couldn’t hear the words over the train’s shrill whistle. Sophie froze until the young woman stopped five feet away.

  What should she do or say? She had never spoken to any of the new settlers before.

  “Excuse me, miss,” the young settler addressed her when the train whistle died. “You don’t know me, but my name is Violet Emmers.”

  Sophie found her voice again. “I’ve seen you in church. You and your family sat next to a friend of mine. Uh, what brings you to the station?”

  “My mother and I are helping Mrs. Willis and her sons welcome Mr. Willis back home.” Violet glanced over her shoulder at them. “I heard Mrs. Willis and Mama talking about your petition. That’s a brave step you’re taking to get women the right to vote.”

  Sophie fidgeted with the string securing her pencil to the petition. “I’m not fighting for the full right to vote. Not yet, I should say. This is just for school elections.”

  “I’d like to sign your petition.”

  “You would?” Sophie’s surprise made her question sound more like an outburst. She winced, hoping Violet would not take offense.

  Violet offered a polite nod. “If it’s fine with you.”

  Sophie saw her brother watching them from the depot with rapt interest. The older couple and the lady with her two small children pretended to be more concerned with the train as it rolled its way closer to the station.

  An emotion prodded Sophie. The country had changed since the war, since she was a little girl. People like Violet were able to live their lives as she did. Freely. In the past years since Sophie matured and grew closer to the Lord, the more she realized that this was the way it always should have been.

  She extended the petition to Violet. “I’d be pleased to have your signature, Miss Emmers.”

  Violet’s face glowed when she smiled. She looked back at her mother, who nodded her approval. She took the petition and wrote her name. “And I’m pleased to support this worthy cause.”

  Now it was Sophie’s turn to smile. To Violet, the simple right to vote in school elections meant another freedom secured. Her boldness in approaching and asking to sign the petition made Sophie think. What would happen if she also dared to embolden herself just a little more?

  Violet and the other settlers moved on to wait near the edge of the platform. David came to Sophie when they left.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” he said with equal parts surprise and admiration. A familiar persistence returned to David’s face. “I bet we can get more signatures if we went to the ranch.”

  “I don’t think the ranch workers are concerned about the goings-on in the town, least of all ladies voting.”

  “Dusty signed it. He’ll be able to get them to sign the petition too.”

  The train whistled again. Sophie observed two plumes of smoke billowing on the horizon. “I doubt it. Besides, I imagine the owner of that ranch would not be pleased to see two strangers trespassing on his property.”

  “We’re not trespassin’. We’re askin’ ’em to show their support, and they’d be right nice to you because you’re a lady.”

  Sophie hid her amusement at David’s perfect display of the Charlton stubbornness. He was going to find a way onto that ranch no matter what he had to do to get there. His point was valid. Gathering signatures for a petition was an acceptable, even if slightly far-reaching reason for her to visit a cattle ranch. No more or less outlandish than handing out the petition at a train station.

  And didn’t she just think about exercising a new degree of boldness?

  She weighed the matter once more. Dusty’s place of work was considered to be well on the outskirts of town, yet still part of it. A portion of the workers had to be residents.

  “I’ll think about it,” she told her brother, but her mind was made up. The road to the ranch lay wide open before them, free from manmade obstructions and, more importantly, people. With their parents well behind on the farm, Sophie and David were free to roam without observation or objection.

  Sophie reminded herself to stop thinking like a child and feeling guilty. She was grown, and no one could stop her from doing what she pleased. Wasn’t that what Dr. Dorothea implied?

  David raised his voice as another train whistle sounded. “You stay here if you want to. I’ll go by myself.”

  “You can’t leave when you’re supposed to be chaperoning me. I’m the eldest, so I will decide where we go.” She let him make a show of his irritation before she finished her statement. “And the ranch it is.”

  He bounded to the wagon with renewed vitality. She followed after David, but didn’t bother to keep up with his hurried steps. Dusty might be happy to see her brother, but he might not take pleasure in seeing the woman who had a part in making the last days of his employment difficult and degrading.

  Sophie and David stopped the wagon under the sign of the Zephyr Ranch. Wooly red cattle lowed in the distance, but no workers were to be seen near the entrance. Sophie eyed the sign as it creaked back and forth above their heads. “We may have come too late. The day appears to be done for them.”

  “We left the station at three. It ain’t even close to suppertime yet.”

  Reflexively, she started to correct his grammar when a gunshot sounded. Sophie shrieked and lowered herself onto the footboard of the bench. “David, get down!”

  Gunshots fired again. One sounded like it came from the north, the second from the east. The cattle ceased lowing until a third shot made one the bovine creatures produce a sound of alarm.

  Sophie covered her head. “I knew they’d think we were trespassers. Turn this wagon around now before we get killed.”

  “Sophie, I don’t th
ink anyone’s shooting at us.”

  “I know the sound of a shotgun when I hear it.”

  “No, I mean we’re not the targets. Listen. The shots are coming from behind that house over yonder.”

  Sophie took her hands from her head and rose up on her arms. She saw the house David referred to, across from the two smaller bunkhouses. Two consecutive shots fired, this time from a smaller gun. “It does sound like someone’s shooting on the opposite side.”

  Her brother reached around her and pulled the rifle from the back of the wagon. “Grab a few of those cartridges from that crate. I’ll see what’s going on.”

  “Are you insane, David? Don’t you dare leave this wagon.” Sophie made a grab for his shirt collar but he jumped down from the driver’s bench out of her reach. “I’ll drive back to Assurance by myself and leave you here.”

  Her brother kept walking. He went past the gate, treading a path in the grass toward the house.

  “Hardheaded child.” Sophie grabbed her skirt hem and jumped down after him. The horse neighed. Not wanting to lose sight of her brother, she seized the reins and tied them in a haphazard knot to the gate. The horse could break free if it wanted to. She hoped their means of transport would be there when—if—they made it back.

  She broke into a light run to catch up with David. The ten head of cattle she’d seen as the shooting commenced had since gone farther down to pasture. She leapt over a scattering of dung to where David stood in the grass like a wild boy of the woods, holding the rifle and staring down at the main house.

  “This is surpassing foolish. We should go back before we’re caught.”

  David put a finger to his lips. “I hear laughing. I think they’re playing a game.”

  Sophie listened and soon she could also decipher the sound of men’s coarse laughter. One of them made a statement that was followed with more of the same. “What they’re laughing about doesn’t sound funny, David. Let’s go.”

  A door slammed. The sound cracked the air as good as any gunfire. Sophie jumped and moved behind her brother. She watched a man come out from one of the bunkhouses, brawny, bull-shouldered, and carrying a rifle that looked as though it could have given birth to the one David was holding. He fired a warning shot in the sky.

  “What are you children doing? This is private property.” The man growled at them from the under shade of the bunkhouse’s slanted roof. Despite him calling them children, he didn’t lower the rifle. It remained aimed in their vicinity.

  Sophie raised her hands, unable to control their tremors. “Sir, we’re sorry for coming onto the land like this. We’re looking for a man who works here. He’s a friend of ours.”

  “Dusty Sterling,” David supplied.

  The man lowered the rifle, but just slightly. “Who’s lookin’ for ’im?”

  Sophie stepped partly out from her brother’s shadow. “I’m Sophie and this is my brother David. Mr. Sterling used to work in the same trade as our father.” She deliberately withheld the information that Dusty was a former employee. Enough trouble had already commenced with their trespassing.

  The wind blew at the man’s red neckerchief. “What you want with Sterling?”

  “Only to visit. We came all the way from town to see him. We mean you or him no harm.”

  “Then tell your brother to stop pointing that gun like he means to make the sun shine through my gullet. ’Cause he won’t get a chance, I can tell you that right now.”

  Sophie saw what her brother was doing. “Gracious, David, lower that rifle before you get us both shot.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice. Everyone has a gun on this property.”

  David did what she said. Sophie repeated to the cowhand, “My apologies. I told you we meant no harm.”

  Finally, the man lowered his rifle to a neutral position and came from the bunkhouse. Sophie planted her feet in the ground as he approached, so as not to take off like a frightened rabbit. She smelled him before he got to her. His scent was a mixture of unwashed skin and horse sweat.

  “You’re no child. Just a tiny woman.” He chuckled at his observation. “You two go around the house. The men are target practicing. Helps keep us sharp in case cattle rustlers come along at night.”

  Sophie and David walked in front of the cowhand. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure that cowhand’s rifle stayed lowered.

  Target practicing. What were the men shooting?

  None of them were shooting anything when she and David reached the back of the house. The gunfire ceased for the moment as five men, Dusty included, stood waiting amidst a field of painted bull’s-eyes placed in strategic locations. Stacks of empty cans, bean brand labels still attached to them, also decorated the grass and the limbs of nearby trees.

  “What’s this, Freeman?” the man on the far right asked. Sophie guessed him to be the owner of the ranch. Standing at medium height, with curling dark hair and broad mustache, his clothes were cleaner and of a higher quality than the other workers. The other men also seemed to defer to him, immediately quieting when he spoke and making way for him as he moved to the front.

  Freeman spit a wad of yellow phlegm. “Some visitors here to see Sterling, Mr. Mabrey. Said their father and him used to work together. Looked to me like they were trespassin’.”

  A tall Negro man on the left stood with his hands on his hips. Violet’s father. Sophie recalled seeing him in church with Violet and her mother. “We’ve had enough of those in the past two months.”

  Sophie felt some of the tension leave as Dusty’s eyes locked onto hers. He came forward. She saw the revolver in his hand before he returned it to a holster at his hip. “I know them, Mr. Mabrey. They’re the children of my former boss, Mr. Charlton.”

  Sophie didn’t like Dusty mentioning her as a child, even though she knew that he said it in reference to her being her father’s progeny.

  “They were telling the truth, then?” The ranch owner’s face was nowhere near as frightening as Freeman’s, but it harbored suspicion.

  “David and Sophie come from a well-provided household. They wouldn’t be out here up to no good.”

  Freeman harrumphed. “Then they should have called out from the gate instead of creepin’ through like they did.”

  With Dusty vouching for them, Sophie deemed it safe to speak freely. “We would have, but we didn’t see anyone. You were all back here shooting. I told my brother not to go onto the property.”

  “You could have stayed in the wagon,” David countered.

  “And let you get killed?”

  “I had the gun in case I needed it. What did you have?”

  “The good sense to stay behind.”

  “Well, you didn’t use it. And you didn’t even bring the rifle cartridges like I told you to.”

  She shot him a cool glance, irritated that the cowhands were being entertained by their bickering. At least it made their hard expressions melt into more agreeable countenances.

  Mr. Mabrey addressed her. “You and your brother seem harmless enough, Miss Sophie, ma’am. Most trespassers come from compe
ting ranches and farms. My name is Eli Mabrey, and I’m the owner of the ranch here.”

  “You have my word that we’re not in any competition with you, Mr. Mabrey. We harvest wheat and vegetables on our farm, not livestock. We came because my brother wanted to see Dusty.”

  “Just him?” A roguish smile spread across Dusty’s lips. “You could’ve waited in the wagon if you didn’t want to be bothered with a visit, Miss Sophie. I know how the ranch is no place for a lady.” He was rewarded with chortles from the surrounding men.

  Sophie didn’t know whether to berate him for teasing her in front of the other cowhands or be grateful that he still had words for her after what she and her parents put him through. She unfurled her hands after realizing she had made them into fists. “As a matter of fact, there’s a second reason for why we came here. I wanted to know if any employees of this ranch would be interested in signing a petition.”

  Dusty turned back to the men. “Any of you want to help enable this lady to vote in school elections?”

  One of the two cowhands that didn’t speak previously sought to voice his opinion. “Vote? What for? She seems outspoken enough already.”

  Sophie decided not to take offense, remembering that her audience did not consist of the mild-mannered merchants and familiar residents of Assurance that she normally approached with the petition. “It wouldn’t be just me you’re helping. The other ladies of Assurance would be most grateful to know that you support them in the right to vote in school elections.”

  “Name’s Wilcox.” A lustful smirk appeared on his face. “I’d have to see just how grateful those ladies would be.”

  “I’ll sign it,” Mr. Mabrey volunteered. “Might as well make an impression in the town. Who better to start with than the ladies?”

  Freeman quipped to his boss. “You may find yourself a woman that way. All of us can, ’cept Emmers, ’cause he’s already got one.”