A Path Worth Taking

by Mariella Starr

  “How far is he taking you, honey?”

  “My husband says our place is about forty miles from here,” Beth replied.

  “Well, land sakes, we’re practically neighbors. Welcome to Denver where all goods are at a premium. It takes us six to nine months to get supplies overland. I read in a San Francisco newspaper they’re building a railroad from one side of the country to the other. Won’t it be something? The East and West railroads are supposed to meet somewhere in the middle. Can you believe it, a railroad out here? They call it the Transcontinental Railroad, and it is supposed to be completed next year.”

  “Augusta quit jabbering and sell the little gal something,” a small man shouted from behind the counter on the other side of the store.

  “As one woman to another, I’ll sell the goods to you at only a bit above cost,” Mrs. Johnson offered. “There are so few of us decent women out here, we have to stick together.”

  Beth bought needles, material, thread, buttons, and hooks, along with a length of a heavy dark blue canvas-like cloth she could use to make work trousers for Garret.

  Garret repacked the wagon stacking the boxes of supplies carefully so they could be used as a sleeping platform if necessary. For the duration of their journey, they would be sleeping under the wagon. With the additional supplies, the wagon was filled to within several feet of the top of the bonnet. They would be hauling an extra heavy load.

  They only stayed one day before moving on. The load was so heavy, some days they barely got much further than five or six miles. Often, Garret walked in front of the oxen pulling and urging them forward. He said they did not need to pull his extra weight. He refused to let Beth walk, claiming he needed her on the brake.

  The far away mountains were beginning to loom closer. Sometimes Beth and Garret both were so exhausted, they collapsed into their blankets at night. They were too tired to even enjoy each other. Garret would lock his arms around her, so she felt safe when the wolves began to howl.

  The weather was holding, warm dry days and cooler dry nights. Garret warned Beth how rain and lightning storms coming over the mountains could be very dangerous. He drove up to a crest of the landscape one day and with a broad smile, he pointed to some buildings in the distance. “There it is, Beth. Our ranch, our home.”

  Beth climbed up to stand on the seat, holding onto the edge of the bonnet. They had several miles left to go, but they both felt giddy because they were truly at the end of their journey.

  Garret pulled to a stop in front of a cabin not much larger than the wagon, and he lifted Beth down into the tall grasses. He took her hand, and they approached the log cabin, and then Garret stopped suddenly and held her still.

  “Someone’s here,” he whispered, his eyes alert and dangerous.

  Garret banged on the door and opened it. It had been a year since he had stepped foot on his property. He immediately saw evidence of someone living there. He motioned Beth to stay where she was and be quiet.

  Suddenly there was a slight noise, and Garret took off running. Beth followed him and saw Garret chasing a smaller man. There was a scuffle and Garret returned guiding a gangly boy in front of him with his hand firmly gripped in the collar of the boy’s shirt. He shoved the boy ahead of him inside the cabin and sat him down in a chair.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wasn’t hurtin’ nobody; no one was living here,” the boy exclaimed.

  “You were trespassing on my property. Have you been using my supplies?”

  “No,” the boy snarled. “I’ve been living off the land, eating rabbits and catching fish at the stream. I’m no thief!”

  “Where are your folks?” Beth asked gently. The boy could not have been much more than thirteen or fourteen.

  “I don’t got any,” the boy said belligerently. “They died May of last year. My whole family drowned when we were trying to forge the South Platte River. The current was too strong, and the mules couldn’t fight it. I washed up on a sandbar, but my ma and my sisters couldn’t swim. I followed the river and found what was left of the wagon. I never found any trace of their bodies.” The boy stood suddenly and turned his back to them. They could tell he was fighting tears.

  “Were you with a wagon train?” Garret asked, his tone sounding less angry.

  The boy shook his head no. “My pa had an argument with the wagon master, and we split off from the main train. Pa said we were going our separate ways.”

  “That was a foolish move to make out here,” Garret said.

  “Once Pa made up his mind about something, there weren’t no changing it,” the boy answered. “He made the decision, and he wouldn’t back down no matter how much my ma begged him. He was a stubborn bastard.” He looked up to meet Garret’s eyes square on. “My pa and his stubbornness were responsible for my ma and my two sisters drowning.”

  “How long have you been on your own?” Beth asked.

  “More than a year, I reckon,” the boy admitted. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I could use help,” Garret said suddenly. “I can’t pay you much, but we can feed you. This is my wife, Beth, and I’m Garret Wakefield. We have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it. Summer is on us already, so even if I get a crop in, it will be a late harvest. Are you willing to work for your keep?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy agreed eagerly.

  Garret looked at Beth, who nodded her head in approval.

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Jasper Slater.”

  “Jasper, you can sleep in the barn and we will make sure you don’t go hungry. If you swear in front of my wife again, I will take you to the barn and give you a licking to make you remember your manners. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said. He glanced toward Beth. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “That’s better,” Garret said approvingly. “Someone raised you right. Jasper, we can start by unloading the wagon. Beth, why don’t you start in the cabin? I imagine it’ll need a good cleaning. Don’t start a fire until I unblock the chimney. I blocked it to keep the raccoons and squirrels from building nests in it. I’ll take care of it shortly. We’ll need a real good supper tonight.”

  Beth understood what her husband was not saying out loud. It had probably been a long time since the boy had eaten a decent meal.

  ***

  “You did well today offering the boy a place to stay,” Beth said as she undressed for bed.

  “I wasn’t much older than Jasper when my folks died,” Garret replied as he watched his wife with hungry eyes. “Are you teasing me, woman? Get over here in this bed!”

  Beth laughed as she joined him. “I didn’t expect our cabin to have a bedroom.”

  Garret glanced around the small room not much more than an added on lean-to. There was barely room for the three-quarter bed and a small side table, and the ceiling was only an inch above his head. They had emptied the sack mattress of old, dried grasses, and refilled it with clean-smelling wild hay. Beth had prettied the space by putting a little glass jar on the table with wildflowers in it.

  “It’s not much compared to what you had before. I’ll build you a real house someday. However, I might not get to it for a while.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Beth said snuggling into Garret’s body. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. The cabin is cozy, and it will keep us safe from storms this summer and warm this winter.”

  Garret kissed her and pulled her on top of him. “I don’t want you beholden to me, Beth. I want you to care for me as a wife cares for a husband. I promise I will make a good life for you here.”

  Beth leaned forward and kissed him. “If I have learned anything from the past several years, it is possessions don’t matter a whole lot. What is important is having someone you care about in your life.”

  “I care, Beth. You might have come to me without a choice, but love is growing between us, and it’s the powerful, lasting kind.”

  “I know. Show me,
Garret. Show me how much you love me.”

  He shifted slightly, and she was pinned under the weight of his body for a second. It was not an uncomfortable feeling to be tightly smothered under his strength and weight. He pulled her nightgown over her head and bent to the task of making love to his wife. Beth arched her back to allow him more access, and he responded with his mouth and his hands.

  They forgot about being tired from a long day’s work and celebrated what they had accomplished by reveling in their comfort and need for each other. When they were done and had expended the last of their energy, Garret tucked her in close to his body and kissed her on the forehead.

  “It’s good I told Jasper he should sleep in the barn loft. I’m not sure a boy his age should be aware of what goes on between a man and a woman. You make a lot of noise when you’re satisfied,” Garret teased.

  “Oh,” Beth blushed. “I’ll be silent from now on.”

  “Don’t you change one bit, sweetheart,” Garret protested lightly swatting her bottom. “I like you exactly the way you are, noises and all. It makes me feel good to know you enjoy doing it.”

  “So, when you’re hollering Hell’s Bells it means you are enjoying yourself?” Beth asked.

  Garret laughed. He gave her another swat, rolled over on top of her, and slid into her body again. “I’ll have you screaming to the rafters before I’m done with you.”

  Beth laughed at his nonsense before their play turned serious, and took them on the path to fulfillment.

  ***

  “Come on woman, get out of bed!” Garret exclaimed, yanking Beth’s foot.

  “It’s Sunday. Don’t we get a day of rest?” she moaned.

  “Not until winter. There’s work to be done,” Garret warned her. “I told you not to clean out the cellar by yourself. You could have waited until we had time to help you.”

  “If I had waited for you to have time, I would still be waiting,” Beth teased.

  “Are you getting sassy on me, wife?” Garret asked. “I might have to paddle your pretty little behind. Come on, gal, you need to get breakfast on the table. Jasper and I are finished with the smaller barn. Today we are going to tackle the bigger barn.”

  “I can help,” Beth offered.

  “No, you can’t, it’s man’s work,” Garret said. “You can keep organizing the food provisions in the root cellar.”

  “I’m done with the cellar,” Beth complained. “I can help in other ways.”

  “You have enough to do, doing a woman’s work,” Garret said stubbornly.

  Beth rose from their bed, dressed, and made her way to the kitchen. Garret was funny about what he considered women’s work versus men’s work. He objected to her even touching an ax or a pitchfork. Garret considered anything beyond a skillet and a hoe to fit under the category of a man’s tool for a man’s job. Yet, he had spent hours teaching her how to shoot his Spenser seven-shot repeating rifle. She was under direct orders to carry the rifle with her all the time.

  In her husband’s mind, Beth’s domain was restricted to the cabin and the garden they were beginning to cultivate and plant. There was also a chicken coop, which apparently would be her responsibility, but there weren't any chickens, and there wouldn’t any until they made another trip to Denver. Even that was contingent on Garret finding someone willing to sell him some pullets.

  Jasper was a nice boy who worked hard and was a big help to her husband. They never had any leftovers at their table. The boy ate twice as much as Garret. Beth purposely made extra suspecting Jasper’s thinness was not a natural tendency, but caused by lack of food. The lad was polite and mannerly, though. Except for Garret occasionally having to toss him into the creek to remove a layer of dirt and stink, they had no problems with him.

  Beth cleared the table and sat down to have her own breakfast. She was unable to join Garret and Jasper at the table because they only had two straight back chairs. Such lack of amenities in the house had not caught Garret’s attention, yet. As most men, he seemed to expect Beth to wait on them and he had not noticed she was not actually sitting at the table for meals. She was unwilling to bring it to his attention since he was working so hard.

  Beth didn’t mind the hardships of being a settler’s wife. She had lived so meagerly during and after the war, having enough to eat was a luxury. Considering her circumstances after Nate’s death, she could have found herself in far worse conditions. Just the thought of marrying Melvin Hoffs gave her the shivers.

  However, she did miss the companionship of another woman. Lettie’s absence was an open wound in Beth’s heart. Lettie’s momma had been their house help for years and after her death, Lettie had assumed the job. Beth still mourned Jacob and worried about what had happened to Lettie. Although almost a decade older than Beth, Lettie had been her best friend and companion.

  Garret was turning out to be a good husband. Nevertheless, men would never understand certain things about women. He could not fathom why she got a bit contrary when it was her time of the month. He had no empathy when she sometimes got weepy. Her need for tears because it felt good to cry was incomprehensible to him. If she cried, he took off like a scalded cat or avoided her. There were also many things a woman could not or would not discuss with her man. Even if Garret had been willing to hear her out, he would not have understood.

  “Beth!”

  She heard the shout and, grabbing the Spenser rifle, followed his voice to the larger of the two barns. Garret stood in front of the opened doors with his hands on his hips. When she joined him, he gave a jerk to his chin, and she peeked inside.

  “Goodness!” she exclaimed.

  Garret looked at the boy. “Well, explain it to her.”

  “I wasn't here by myself for a while,” Jasper said. “A man named John Ames was here with me.”

  “Are these his belongings?”

  “Sort of,” the boy looked down and kicked the ground. “John got the idea to scavenge goods left along the trails.”

  “These are stolen?” Beth gasped.

  “No,” Garret disagreed. “Settlers try to bring an awful lot of personal belongings with them coming west. When the animals get tired, and the loads become to much for the animals to pull, the settlers have to lighten the load. They have to discard belongings. Once things are abandoned, they belong to whoever wants them. Usually, when the trail gets rough, everyone’s in the same predicament, and everything becomes expendable except provisions. No one can afford to take what others abandon. Every trip I’ve made across the trails has been the same. Settlers have to discard much of their possessions, especially heavy furniture.”

  “John got the idea of collecting what was left beside the trail and hauling it to Denver to sell,” Jasper explained. “People were buying it, too. There weren’t no one around using this property, and it was close to the trailheads, so he used these barns to store what he found. We made a couple trips with furniture and whatever to sell in Denver. I reckon since this is your barn, this stuff belongs to you now.”

  “It belongs to John Ames,” Garret said. “Where can I find him?”

  “In a cemetery outside Denver. He was killed about eight months back when a poker game went bad,” Jasper said. “The man who shot him claimed John was cheating. Since it’s your barn, I think all these things belong to you.”

  Beth glanced around inside the barn and back at her husband. “What’re you going to do with it?”

  “I guess you can pick out things you want for the cabin, and we’ll be selling the rest.”

  “Goodness. God does provide in strange ways,” Beth said peering inside, again.

  “Well, I reckon you got something to do, honey,” Garret said with a grin.

  Chapter Four

  The sheer amount of furniture, trunks, and crated items stored in the large barn was enormous. Beth rolled up her sleeves and went to work, although it was more like shopping, albeit on a scale she had never done before. Her childhood home had been furnished for generations. Some
of the larger items she found were highboys, bureaus, and even a huge chifferobe. A ten-foot grandfather clock was leaning sideways against a rafter. She discovered a piano with a matching stool, although it needed tuning. Chairs, empty crocks of every size, butter churns, spinning wheels and cradles were plentiful, along with cast iron Dutch ovens and kettles. There were fancy engraved boxes filled with family silver and cartons of bone china in beautiful patterns. One of the boxes contained a set of china in the same pattern her mother had handed down to Beth. She had lost it in the fire that had destroyed her family home. She set aside the china. It was not her mother’s but would serve as a reminder of her home before the war.

  It seemed to Beth a lot more abandoned items belonged to women than men. They were the kinds of things a woman would cherish because they held memories.

  She found several trunks filled with clothing and set aside what could be altered to fit Garret, Jasper, and herself. She no longer had to worry about having enough undergarments since several trucks were filled with bloomers, petticoats, and shifts. She would have to cut down most of them to her size, but she saw no reason not to make use of them. She regretted having spent good money on dress fabric now as she had so many dresses in good condition in the trunks.

  Beth chuckled to herself as she folded the clothing carefully. Before the war, she would have forgone hand-me-downs. Eight long years of thrift and sacrifice had changed the spoiled young girl to a woman who knew how to make do. She supposed her frugalness would hold her in good stead, as she now was the wife of a rancher.

  Sorting through the goods made Beth sad as she thought of the poor women forced to discard their family heirlooms along a trail they had hoped would deliver them to a better life. Garret returned a few hours later and shook his head at the foolishness of people. “Have you found anything you want to keep?”

  “Several pieces, except I feel guilty for wanting them,” Beth admitted. “I keep thinking how desperate the people were who had to leave them behind.”

  “It was stupid to even try to bring some of these things,” Garret said. “The piano probably took three-quarters of the space in a wagon. Who in their right mind would think it was a necessity.”