by Anna Schmidt
But if someone challenged her right to the property, she would have to prove it. Remembering an iron box Calvin always kept under their bed, she quickened her step. She should not have waited so long to return, but her focus had been on her new life—the one she was building with Trey.
“Stay there,” she instructed as Joshua started to follow her over fallen beams and past charred walls. She saw evidence others had been there ahead of her, scavenging for whatever they might salvage. She hoped they had not taken the small metal box. When she reached the bedroom, she saw the iron frame of the bed had partially melted in the heat of the fire and collapsed so that it rested on the floor.
Setting aside the photograph of Calvin, she tried pushing on the headboard. The bed moved an inch but no more. She put all her weight into pushing it again, and this time, she saw a corner of the box. It was still there. She stood back and assessed the situation. If she could pull the charred remainder of the mattress free, she could reach through the opening and retrieve the box.
“Ma? Somebody’s up there watching us.”
Joshua pointed to a mesa where she saw a man on horseback scanning the land through a spyglass—a spyglass that seemed to settle on Nell and Joshua. She recognized neither horse nor rider. “Joshua, go get in the buggy. I’ll be right there.”
She wrestled the mattress, the batting made heavier by being soaked in the rain. The box was stuck under the weight of the frame. She tugged and jimmied the box until finally it came free.
“Ma? He’s coming.”
The lock was broken, and her heart sank. But when she lifted the lid, she found what she was looking for—the deed to her property. It was charred at the edges, but it was there. She clutched the box to her chest, then picked up the silver frame and went to meet the man riding toward her son.
“Can I help you?” she called out as she worked her way over broken furniture and remnants of draperies.
“Ma’am.” The man tipped his fingers to his hat, and she saw that it was Pete Collins. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my property,” she replied, having reached the buggy. “I might ask you the same question, sir.”
“Just passing by, Miz Stokes. Being a good neighbor and keeping an eye on things.”
She noticed he had failed to introduce himself. “It’s Mrs. Porterfield now, and I appreciate your concern, Mr. Collins, but I’m sure my husband keeps a check on the place.”
“Still can’t be too careful in these times, a woman and boy out alone.” He was smiling, but his words signaled a threat.
“We’re on our way to see my Aunt Lottie,” Joshua announced.
“Is that right?” He kept his eyes on Nell. “Well, you give Miz Galway my deepest sympathies, won’t you? A real shame what happened.”
Nell got into the buggy and picked up the reins. “Yes, this whole business is a horror, one my husband is trying hard to remedy.”
Pete Collins chuckled. “Your husband is a bit of an optimist, ma’am. He has little idea of how things go in this business, and he’s playing with people’s livelihood.”
Nell handed Joshua the picture of his father. “Better than playing with people lives,” she muttered as she clicked her tongue and urged the horse forward. “Good day, Mr. Collins.”
To her relief, Collins made no attempt to follow them. After a few minutes, Joshua looked back and reported, “He’s leavin’. Is that man a friend of Trey’s?”
“He and Trey are both in the cattle business,” she replied carefully.
“I don’t care for him,” Joshua said after taking a moment to digest Nell’s explanation.
She laughed. “Neither do I.”
Lottie was sitting on the wide covered porch when Nell and Joshua rolled up to the hitching post.
“Aunt Lottie!” Joshua jumped down from the buggy almost before it came to a full stop and ran to the porch. “We brought a picnic. We stopped at our ranch just to look around, and we were gonna eat there, but this man showed up, so Mama said we should come on here, and maybe you’d like to eat with us.”
Lottie hugged Joshua while Nell tied up the horse and retrieved the picnic basket.
“Hello, Lottie. I hope it’s all right we stopped by,” Nell said, gauging her sister-in-law’s mood as she approached the porch.
Lottie kept her focus on Joshua. “A picnic, you say. Well now, that does sound fine. We can have it right here on the porch.” She led the way to a table and took the basket from Nell. “Let’s just see what we have here,” she said. She still had not once looked at Nell.
“There’s even a jug of lemonade,” Joshua announced as he and Lottie began removing things from the basket. “Nita thinks of everything.”
Nell saw Lottie stiffen at that, but then she looked sideways at Nell and asked, “How are Mr. and Mrs. Mendez doing?”
Given this opening, Nell joined her son and Lottie in setting up the picnic. “They’re grieving, like you,” she said softly.
“It don’t get any easier,” Lottie replied. “That business about time healing all wounds? It’s a lie, at least for me and my boys.” After a moment, she added, “I expect it’s no different for the Mendez family. The days and weeks and months come and go, but…” Her eyes welled with tears, and she wiped them away and cleared her throat. “You seem to be doing all right.”
The way her sister-in-law looked at her, Nell knew the underlying message was that while Lottie was still mourning Henry, Nell seemed to have totally recovered from Calvin’s death. “Cal’s been gone for nearly a year. The wounds do heal, Lottie. The scars never will.”
The two women ate in silence, occasionally acknowledging Joshua’s monologue with a nod or smile. When he saw his cousins coming in from tending the sheep, he hurried off to meet them. Nell watched, mostly to make sure her son was warmly received by Ira and Spud in spite of their feelings for her. She was not disappointed. Ira wrapped his arm around Joshua’s shoulders and led him off to a pen where several lambs were being held. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to Lottie. She cast about for a safe topic of conversation.
“I see Ernest separated those lambs from their mothers. I wonder—”
“They have no mothers,” Lottie interrupted, bitterness dripping from each word. “Their mothers were slaughtered, as were any number of yours. If you cared. But then, why should you? You’ve set yourself and Joshua up with that rancher. What’s it to you if everything Calvin ever did for you gets destroyed?”
“That’s unfair, Lottie. Trey is trying to—”
“Trey this and Trey that.” Lottie spat the words. “If I never hear that man’s name again, I just might be able to mourn in peace.”
Nell was at a loss. Anything she might say, it seemed, would be met with the venom of Lottie’s anger. She understood some of what Lottie must be feeling. After all, the woman refused to believe Trey hadn’t caused Henry’s death. For several long uncomfortable minutes, they sat side by side looking out over the land, watching their boys play marbles in a circle they’d scraped out in the dirt. When Lottie stood and began gathering the remains of their picnic, Nell started to help.
“Leave it,” Lottie snarled.
Nell sat down again. She shifted her gaze to the buggy where she’d left the precious documents that were her security—with or without Trey.
“Lottie? Earlier when Joshua and I stopped by the old house, I was able to retrieve the deed and other important papers. I should have done that months ago, but I didn’t think of it. It would have been the first thing Henry would have thought to do.” She paused and saw that Lottie was listening. “Do you have papers to show ownership of this property?”
Her sister-in-law looked up from clearing the picnic, her eyes wide with panic. “Papers? I don’t know. I mean Henry handled all of that and—” She glanced toward the windows that led to the front parlor. “I never thoug
ht to have to prove anything. This is our place. We own it. Well, us and the bank, I guess.”
“And have you thought about how you might keep going? I mean, the boys are a big help, I’m sure, but maybe Ernest will want to return to Nebraska. After all, he stayed to watch over me and Joshua. He’s Calvin’s kin, not mine and Henry’s.”
She was surprised to see Lottie blush scarlet.
“Well now, Nell, the thing is, Ernest has been… Ernest has offered…” Lottie bit her lower lip. “Ernest is pressing me about getting married. It’s like Henry tried to tell you—a woman out here alone, even without all the trouble the cattle ranchers are causing… Well, it’s the best idea, don’t you think?”
Nell chose her words with care. “What do you think, Lottie? Keeping this place going carries a lot of responsibility, that’s true. But if you married Ernest, then—”
“Oh, I see where you’re headed with this. Well, be sure this ranch belongs to those boys and nobody else.”
“And do you have papers to that effect?”
“I know what Henry would want.”
“Still, maybe you and I should both see a lawyer just to make sure everything is in order.”
Lottie laughed. “Look at you. Madam High and Mighty married to a Porterfield can afford a lawyer. Some of us aren’t married to money, Nell. Some of us decided to stay true to our own kind rather than cross over—for any reason.”
Nell was so tired of being accused of marrying Trey for security. “Maybe that was a piece of it—at first. But I love him, Lottie. Love him so much that he could be penniless for all I care, and I believe he loves me in return. I know he cares deeply for me—and for Joshua.”
Lottie stared at her for a long moment, tears welling in her eyes. “Do you know how blessed you are, Nell? To have not one but two men care for you so much in a single lifetime? I only had Henry, and I’ll never have that again.”
“You can’t know that, Lottie. Don’t settle just because you’re frightened. I’m here, and so is Trey—if you’ll let him. He’s been calling on all the cattle ranchers and tells me at least some of them are starting coming around to accepting that we have to learn to live together and—”
“What about that Collins fella? I seen him in town a few days ago, strutting around like he owned everything and everybody.”
“He recanted his accusations against Trey, and they didn’t have the evidence they needed to hold him for other things,” Nell admitted, “but—”
“But nothing. They can find the evidence they need to accuse my boy of cold-blooded murder for accidentally stabbing that Mexican boy, but they can’t seem to find anything allowing them to lock up a rich white cattleman.”
Nell was not going to debate Ira’s crime with her sister-in-law. “Come inside, Lottie, and let’s look for your deed and any other documents you may want to put in a safe place. Hopefully Henry left a will?”
With obvious reluctance, Lottie led the way inside where she sat down at her late husband’s desk and began opening drawers. “I don’t know what it is I’m looking for,” she grumbled, pulling out scraps of paper, a ledger, and finally an iron box not unlike the one Calvin had used to store important papers.
“That might be it.”
Lottie set the box on top of the desk and sat back. “You open it,” she said softly.
When they couldn’t find a key, with Lottie’s permission, Nell used a letter opener to pry the lid open. Inside were several legal-looking papers. “This is the deed,” she said, handing that to Lottie. “And this looks like a will.”
“Read it,” Lottie whispered.
“It’s a lot of legal talk,” Nell replied as she quickly scanned the document, seeking the information she hoped was there. “Here,” she said, pointing excitedly to a section where Lottie’s name and those of her two sons were listed.
Lottie’s lips moved as she read the section. “What does it mean?”
“It means the same as what Calvin wrote in his will—the land and livestock are left to your boys, but until they are of age, you, as their guardian and surviving parent, are in control. And whatever the boys decide once they are of age, you are always to be provided with a home—this house or some other bought for you if they sell the land. It’s almost identical to what was in Calvin’s will, Lottie. My guess is Henry and Calvin had these drawn up at the same time by the same lawyer.” She turned back to the document’s cover and found the name of the attorney. “See? It’s the same man as on Cal’s will.”
Lottie ran her fingers over the paper as if it were a fine piece of fabric, precious and cherished. “Henry was always thinking of me and the boys,” she said softly. “We used to argue about it, the way he was always so serious about putting things in order just in case. I used to tell him he was the only man I’d ever met who was always thinking about dying.”
“He was just making sure you and the boys would be provided for, Lottie. He loved you so much.”
Lottie refolded the will and placed it with the deed back inside the metal box. After closing the lid, she laid her hand on the box and stared out the window.
Nell heard the boys playing in the yard and the clock on the mantel ticking off the seconds. “Lottie, can we not join forces and work together to secure a future for our sons?”
After what seemed like a very long time, Lottie handed the box to Nell. “You keep this for me, Nell. Just in case.” Her lower lip quivered as she pressed the box into Nell’s hands.
“Oh, Lottie, if that means you trust me to do what’s right for you and the boys, I’d be honored.”
Swiping at tears, Lottie stood and cleared her throat. “Well, the way I see it, you and me are now in charge of the two biggest sheep farms in the territory, at least when it comes to how much land we own.”
“We can rebuild the flock, Lottie. It will take time, but—”
“Perhaps.”
“And we can talk to the others—our neighbors and fellow herders. We can work together.”
“Oh sure. We should be right up there in front at the next herders’ cooperative meeting. I expect that would set them back on their heels a bit.”
And for the first time since Henry’s death, Nell saw her sister-in-law smile.
Nell covered a smile of her own as she imagined Lottie standing her ground with a bunch of male herders. Her sister-in-law was a little like Juanita in the way she could make others see things her way—if she felt comfortable speaking out. Of course, when Lottie felt threatened, she withdrew, became fearful and wary, and kept her thoughts to herself, looking to others to take charge. Finding the papers had given her a new sense of confidence.
The boys had finished their game and were climbing the front porch steps, helping themselves to lemonade. Through the open window, Nell heard Joshua telling his cousins about how Trey had promised to teach him how to pitch and hit better when it came to baseball.
“Is he any good?” Spud asked at the same time as Ira said, “Maybe he would let us play.”
“Sure. Trey likes everybody, and he’s really good—hits the ball a mile most every time. Rico says he’s a lot better than his brother, even if Jess is the marshal.”
Nell realized Lottie was hearing this same conversation. Did she dare suggest perhaps Trey could stop by to work with the boys? “Maybe next time we come for a visit, Trey could—” she began, but Lottie cut her off.
“Probably better if the boys come to you. Not sure how Ernest would take it if—”
“Lottie, about Ernest.”
“I expect Ernest will be heading back home after all once I tell him about the papers I gave you for safekeeping. No reason for him to marry me when there’s nothing to be gained now, is there?”
“And you?”
“We’ll see what happens with Ira, but Nell, with the greater part of both our flocks slaughtered, I’d have to rebu
ild. Not sure I’m up to that.”
“You wouldn’t have to do it alone, Lottie. I may have married a cattleman, but I was raised by herders, and that’s part of who I am—and it’s what I want for Joshua.”
The two women walked out to the porch. Nell held the metal box, so Lottie picked up the picnic basket and carried it to the buggy. Joshua continued chattering away to his cousins as he climbed onto the seat. Nell hugged Lottie, a hug her sister-in-law returned with the whispered words, “Thanks for coming, Nell. I’ve missed you.”
“You bring the boys and come visit any time,” Nell replied. “Trey is a good businessman, and he can advise you on how best to rebuild—if that’s what you decide.”
As she drove away, Nell saw Ernest standing in the shadow of the barn, watching her go.
Ten
Trey was in his office later that evening when Nell tapped lightly on the door and walked in.
“It’s late,” she said. “You should get some rest.”
He glanced at his father’s pocket watch lying open on the desk. It showed after midnight. He’d lost all track of time. Running both hands through his hair, he leaned the swivel chair back and let out a long breath of exhaustion. “So much to do that time gets away from me, Nellie.” He stood and indicated the sofa that ran the length of one wall in the small space. “Come sit with me, and tell me about your day.”
At supper, she had told him that her visit with Lottie had been far better than she had hoped, but because Joshua was there, she had not elaborated.
