Craig let the rancher and his fellow ranchers in the area take it from there. He didn’t need to know what happened to the rest of the now identified rustlers, or Frank’s wife. Feeling more than a bit weary, and very lucky not to have been injured or killed, Craig headed for the ranch he’d stabled the horses.
He packed up again and left the area the next day, headed for Wyoming now, wondering about maybe rounding up a few buffalo, if the herds had grown. Just because.
CHAPTER FOUR
Winter was approaching as Craig headed northwest. He began looking for a good situation where he could lay over until spring. It wasn’t until he got to Amarillo that he found an operation needing a hand for the winter.
It was another small ranch needing a little help handling the stock. It was owned by a very young couple with a baby. Alfred and Gwen Jennings, and little Stevie. They’d squatted on the abandoned land and set up a ranch. Having come out of a very successful retreat in Amarillo, the couple had big plans. They had the wherewithal to acquire stock and set up a fairly self-sufficient operation.
Their eyes were a bit bigger than their abilities. They ran out of money and tradable items about the time late fall rolled around. There was no way Alfred could take care of everything by himself. Gwen was pregnant again and in no shape to help, between that and taking care of Stevie.
They’d tried to hire hands for future shares, but people needed sustenance now, not in a couple of years. But Craig just needed a place to stay, something to do to keep him busy, and feed for the horses. He had enough trading goods, not to mention gold and silver, to get the provisions he needed for him.
So, when he heard about the desperate couple, Craig rode out to the ranch to see what kind of deal he might make. He nearly got shot in the process. Alfred was out with the stock, and a very nervous Gwen shot first and asked the questions after. Alfred showed up a few minutes later at a gallop, having heard the shots.
Craig was sitting quietly on Clyde, just out of sight of the ranch house when Alfred rode up, the horse sliding to a stop. Alfred ran into the house, and a few minutes later, called out, “We’re armed! Move along and you won’t get hurt!”
It was sheer bravado. Alfred’s voice had been quivering when he yelled out the warning. “You realize, don’t you,” Craig called back, his voice just loud enough for them to hear him in the house, “that if I was intent on harming anyone I could have shot you down when you rode up. I’m here about the job you’ve been advertising.”
“How do we know that’s the case?” Alfred called back, his voice a bit more under control.
Controlling Clyde with knee pressure, Craig rode back into sight of the house, his hands held up so they could be seen. “You don’t, really,” Craig said calmly, “But if you give me a chance to talk to you, I’m sure I can convince you.”
It was Gwen that made the decision. “Al, maybe I over reacted. He was just riding up calmly. And he has a whole string of horses. He didn’t shoot back or anything, he just turned around and waited for you.”
Alfred stepped out on the porch of the house. “Okay, mister. Come ahead. But keep your hands where I can see them until I’m sure you are what you say you are.”
Craig did as instructed. Alfred was impressed with his ability to guide Clyde without using the reins and the well-mannered string of pack animals following him on a lead rope. The bandits that had plagued Amarillo in the early days after the war, when Alfred and Gwen were children, had traveled hard and fast and light. Despite looking like an outlaw, Alfred was getting the feeling that Craig was anything but. But he still held the rifle pointed at Craig.
When he reached the house, Craig swung down off Clyde, and before Alfred could react, had the rifle out of his hands, the magazine dropped and the round in the chamber ejected. Strictly in passing Craig noted the gun was an AR-15 tricked out M-4 style. He handed it back to Alfred and said, “I’ve had a lot of guns pointed at me lately and am a little shy around them. I’d appreciate being heard out without the gun in my face.”
“It’s okay, Al,” Gwen said, taking her husband’s arm to keep him from trying anything foolish out of embarrassment of being disarmed like that in front of his wife.
Craig bent down and picked up the ejected round, handing it and the magazine to Alfred. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m just a little jumpy around guns.”
“I had to be sure,” Alfred said, managing to keep the whine out of his voice.
“Of course you did,” Craig replied, slightly regretting his actions. He should have handled it differently. But it was water under the bridge. Just have to make up for it in some way. “Now I don’t mind talking out here, but the door is open and I doubt you have heat to spare.”
“Well… I suppose you could come on in and we could talk. If you’re really here about the ranch hand’s job.”
“I am for a fact. But just for the winter. I’m on my way to Wyoming next spring.”
Alfred and Craig followed Gwen into the house, and Gwen offered Craig a seat. Craig took it and the Drover’s coat slid back a bit, exposing the Ruger, Whippet, and derringers Craig wore.
Alfred blanched and so did Gwen. They both suddenly realized that Craig could have done anything he wanted if he had been so inclined. He hadn’t, and despite being in the presence of a heavily armed man, the two relaxed.
“I should say up front,” Alfred said, “That I can’t pay very much. We were really wanting a full time, long term hand that would take a small cut when we begin selling off some of the cattle and horses next spring.”
“That’s okay,” Craig said. “All I want is a bed under a good roof, and a barn and feed for the horses for the rest of the fall, the winter, and early spring. I’ll provide my own provisions. But sure would appreciate having them prepared for me. I’m not much of a cook.”
“Excuse us for a moment,” Gwen said, again taking Alfred’s arm. This time she led him into the kitchen.
Craig looked around the living room as the two of them whispered back and forth. It was obvious that one of the couple had come from a very well to do family, particularly for after the war. The room was fairly simply appointed, but everything looked to be of the best quality.
His perusal of the room was interrupted when Alfred and Gwen came back into the living room. Immediately Alfred said, rather forcefully, “You’d have to stay in the barn,” But his voice was a little less aggressive when he added, “There’s an office in there with a bathroom… It really shouldn’t be too bad.”
“That’s fine,” Craig replied. Though he didn’t say it, the idea of staying in the house with them, especially with one baby in the house and another on the way, was way down on his list of preferences.
“And it will be really hard work. I would hate to be let down in the middle of the winter if you found the work too hard.”
Craig smiled slightly. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that. What say we give it a couple of weeks and if you don’t like the quality and quantity of my work we’ll just call the whole thing off and I’ll saddle up and ride off, with no hard feelings.”
“Well…” Alfred said slowly.
Gwen, however, immediately said, “You’re hired.”
What could a husband do but nod in that situation? Alfred nodded.
“If you’ll show me the barn, I’ll get my string put up and you can get me started on whatever needs done first.”
Alfred, perhaps just a bit reluctantly, led Craig outside. Craig whistled at Clyde. He’d drifted, with the other horses, out onto the lush grass of the lawn and was grazing. Clyde looked up and headed toward Craig, the other horses obeying the whistle as much as the lead rope looped around the saddle horn of the saddle on Clyde.
“You have a way with horses,” Alfred said, more than a little impressed.
“Fairly newly acquired,” Craig admitted. “But we have been on the trail for some time.”
Craig looked over the place as he followed Alfred over to the barn. It wa
s set quite a distance from the ranch house. It had obviously been an equipment barn before the war. Now it was an animal barn. Most of the concrete floor of the large, slope sided metal building was covered with several inches of earth.
There were half a dozen horses already stabled in the barn, but there were plenty of empty ones available for Craig’s horses. Craig had to give Alfred credit. He had big ideas.
The office in the barn was more than adequate for Craig’s personal use. The large leather sofa was a hide-a-bed, and the bathroom had a shower. For someone used to living outdoors for long periods of time, it was a luxury suite.
“We run the generator for two hours in the morning and two at night. The rest of the time you’ll have to make do.”
“No problem. I can find my way around for now,” Craig said, anxious to get the horses stabled and fed. They were smelling the grain stored in wooden bins built along one wall and were ready for it. They knew what staying in a barn meant.
“Come over to the house and we’ll get you started after you get settled in,” Alfred said, turning and leaving without another word.
Craig chuckled. Alfred needed to get a little of his own back. Craig could understand it and let the little things go. One after the other, Craig unloaded and unsaddled the horses, putting each one in a stall, after leading them down the occupied stalls so the horses could all touch noses and familiarize themselves with one another.
After stacking all the panniers and pack saddles in another of the empty stalls, Craig took his saddle bags into the office and began to rearrange a few things to suit him. He went back to the pannier that held more of his limited personal gear and took the old duffle bag to the office and tossed it in a corner.
“Home, sweet home. For a while.” Craig said, and headed for the house as a blustery wind picked up, blowing swirls of leaves from the many trees that grew around the house.
He expected the first job to be a hard one, and Craig wasn’t disappointed. One of the constants in the post-apocalyptic world was cutting firewood. Fortunately, with the greatly reduced human population, new growth was coming in faster than wood was being cut, despite so many people needing it.
“There’s a good stand of trees we’re harvesting about a mile that way,” Alfred said, coming out of the house with Craig. He pointed, and then said, “We’ll take the truck. The firewood stuff is already in it.”
Craig had seen the old Ford pickup sitting in the driveway of the house. With some pride, Alfred explained. “Got a rebuilt diesel in it. My father makes biodiesel on his farm the other side of Amarillo, so I have a good supply.” He looked at Craig when they got into the truck. “We still limit the use to real needs. Don’t expect to do your work in it,” Alfred warned.
Craig nodded. It took a few minutes to go the mile. Alfred was right. It was a good stand of trees, growing along a small stream. “You replanting what you cut?” Craig asked.
“Uh… well… we haven’t.” Then very quickly he added. “But we plan to start. Got to have plenty of firewood for these longer winters.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Craig commented and then fell silent.
When they reached the trees, Craig saw where a couple had been felled, but not cut up. That was what they did first, using the Stihl chainsaw Alfred took from the bed of the truck. “Pop had contacts on the coast. We get a little gasoline and oil from time to time. Enough for cutting wood and a couple of other things. Plus the lube oil for the diesel engines.”
Alfred finally fell silent when he fired up the chainsaw. As Craig used the double-bit axe to trim the smaller limbs, Alfred cut the larger, and cut the trunk up into the correct lengths for the stoves at the ranch house.
They worked the rest of the afternoon, taking the occasional break. Several more than Craig would have taken on his own. When they stopped, a bit before dark, the pickup was loaded down with wood, and there were several stacks ready for transport to the ranch house.
Craig was prepared to unload the truck when they got back to the house, but Alfred said they would do it the next day. Craig shrugged.
“Get cleaned up and come to the house for supper.”
Craig nodded and headed for his room in the barn. The power suddenly came on. He showered and put on fresh clothes before going to the ranch house. Gwen let him in after he knocked and he met Stevie for the first time. He was a roly-poly, happy little fellow and Craig couldn’t help smiling and wondering what kind of babies he and Sally might produce. He put the thought out of his mind and joined Alfred in the dining room when he came out of the bathroom.
“Where is the best place to get provisions?” Craig asked as they ate a hearty meal. Gwen was an excellent cook. And she didn’t short the portions.
Gwen and Alfred exchanged a look, and then Gwen said, “My parents run a trading post in Amarillo. Things run short in the fall, as people stock up on the staples, but I’m sure Mom can scrape up enough for you for the winter.”
“We’ve put by quite a bit this harvest,” Alfred said. “We can supply you with quite a bit ourselves.”
Gwen gave Alfred a look that Craig recognized. It was one his Mother had used on him a few times when he did something she thought was incorrect or impolite.
Ignoring it, Craig said, “I’ll have to trade for it or pay gold or silver, since I can’t work it off.” Craig laughed, trying to ease the sudden tension.
“But…” Gwen started to say something, but Alfred cut her off.
“That is fine. Be easier with gold. I doubt you have anything to trade we might want.”
“Sure thing,” Craig said. Then he thought to himself, “Boy is he going to get it from Gwen. She is not a happy camper!” Glad that the act of eating hid his slight smile, he made a mental note to himself to deal with Gwen when he paid for the food.
The next day, after breakfast, the first thing Craig did was bring in his current supply of provisions and give them to Gwen while Alfred was outside doing something. He pulled out the leather poke that Jason had made for him and opened it. “How much for the winter’s provisions, Mrs. Jennings?”
“I’m not sure…” She looked at the back door that Alfred had gone out a few minutes earlier. Then, with a resolute look on her face she told Craig an amount of gold coin.
Craig counted it out without comment, more than pleased with the bargain he was getting. Alfred never mentioned the transaction, but he rather pouted the next several days, even as he put Craig through the ringer work wise, starting with splitting the wood they’d harvested.
With the amount of work that needed doing, Craig wondered what the small family would have done if Craig hadn’t shown up. “Probably gone back to one of their families,” Craig mused. It would have been a shame. The kid knew cattle and had acquired some prime breeding stock as well as feeders the previous year. The losses would have been severe if the Jennings had just walked away from the place.
Craig just worked away, until he decided he’d shown what he could do without complaint. He told Alfred one evening at the dining table that he was going to go to Amarillo in a couple of days and would pick up anything he or Gwen needed while he was there.
Alfred didn’t like it much, but Gwen quickly produced a small list of items for him to try to find for her. One of the items was salt. Craig still had several pounds of it and brought some of it in the next morning and gave to Gwen.
“How much do…”
“Nada,” Craig replied. “Just my contribution to the provisions.”
Craig, just to keep things amicable, waited for three days before he saddled up Clyde and put the panniers on two of the pack horses, ready to go into Amarillo to get the rest of his winter supplies.
Gwen waved from the front porch of the house. Alfred just stood there. “Be back in two days,” Craig said and clicked at Clyde. Clyde hit his long range, ground covering stride and they were off, the pack horses following along on their lead, keeping the proper distance from each other to make travel fast and easy.
Unlike Gwen, Gwen’s mother drove a hard bargain. Craig enjoyed the negotiations and when the final tally was done he was more than satisfied, as was Alice. Craig had his winter’s worth of staples and Alice had a little gold, some silver, and a few trade items.
It took Craig most of the next day to find everything Gwen had on her list, which had lengthened somewhat when Alfred, a bit reluctantly, added a few items to it. Despite his bartering skills, he paid or traded somewhat more for the items than Gwen had given him for her and Alfred’s needs.
As he was traveling back to the ranch, he decided that he’d just leave the difference unsaid, unless Gwen or Alfred made an issue of it. “Best to keep the peace,” he told Clyde. Clyde’s ears flicked back toward him and then forward again. Craig had a tendency to talk to him when he rode but Clyde had learned the difference between ramblings and instructions, and acted accordingly.
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