The Santa Fe Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “They’re bearin’ up tolerably well,” said Ash.

  He said nothing more, and seemed not to notice the pained expression on Nell’s face. Naomi tried a more direct approach.

  “What do they intend to do when they reach New Mexico Territory?”

  “They ain’t talked to us about it,” Ash said. “Why don’t you ask them?”

  Naomi blushed. “I fear they would think it’s none of my business.”

  “That’s what I think too,” said Ash, looking her in the eye.

  That silenced them. Neither spoke another word to Ash. The sun was noon-high when they reached the town site and the general store, eight miles distant. Once the longhorns had been bedded, down, Ash rode away without a backward look. He, Rusty, and Vic hadn’t said anything to the Stubbs girls about escorting them to the store across the river, and he quickly joined Rusty and Vic.

  “We’d better talk to ’em pronto,” Ash said. “That money’s likely burnin’ holes in their pockets, and they might leave without us.”

  “That ain’t likely,” said Vic, “unless they swim the river. We’ll have to tell Woody we aim to go, and see if he’ll let us saddle some horses for the girls.”

  “You’re in an almighty hurry to get to that store,” Woody said. “In my saddlebag, I have the five hundred dollars each of you wanted. Am I right in thinkin’ this money, the three Stubbs girls, and that store are all part of some scheme you three Texas coyotes have strung together?”

  The trio laughed delightedly, fueling the flames of his suspicions.

  “Could be,” said Vic. “I reckon you’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “Yeah,” Rusty added, “and it might be a good idea if you and Gavin had Pit advance you some money. At least three hundred dollars apiece.”

  Enjoying the puzzled expression on Woody’s face, the trio laughed until they cried. It was typical cowboy humor, and Woody had recognized it as such. He turned away, and Vic spoke.

  “Woody…?”

  “Yes,” said Woody over his shoulder, “you’re welcome to saddle horses for the girls.”

  Rusty, Vic, and Ash didn’t have to go looking for the Stubbs girls. Instead, the trio came looking for them, and it was Bonita who spoke.

  “Wiley and Whit won’t take us to the store. They say they’re too tired. Will you—all of you—go with us?”

  Rusty, Vic, and Ash silently blessed Wiley and Whit, and with as straight a face as he could manage, Vic spoke.

  “I reckon we can escort you over there. Come on, and we’ll saddle some horses.”

  Suddenly Rusty patted his empty pockets, a motion that wasn’t lost on his two companions. They had forgotten to get their money from Woody!

  “I got to see Woody before we go,” Vic said. “Rusty, you and Ash be saddlin’ our horses.”

  Woody spoke before Vic could say a word.

  “All the money’s in your saddlebags. Don’t start anything you can’t finish.”

  14

  Reaching the store, Rusty, Vic, and Ash carefully avoided the glass showcase with the jewelry. They would save their surprise until the excited trio had satisfied their lust for new clothing. Vic caught McClendon’s eye and winked, lest the storekeeper say something to give away their plot. Bonita, Jania, and Laketa wasted no time, but went directly to the women’s section. They eyed the three cowboys for signs of embarrassment as they began selecting lady’s underwear, but their escorts seemed perfectly at ease. In fact, they appeared to be fascinated by the female unmentionables they had seen only a few times in their entire lives. Bonita held up a pair of frilly, white ankle-length bloomers.

  “What do you think of these, Vic?”

  “I reckon they’ll do,” Vic said, “but I thought you was gettin’ away from britches.”

  “Vic,” said Rusty solemnly, “I think them fancy pants goes under a dress.”

  There was much laughter at Vic’s expense, and the search went on. After more than three hours, there were three enormous piles of underwear, gowns, stockings, and shoes on the counter.

  “Is that it?” an exhausted Vic asked hopefully.

  “Perhaps,” Bonita said. “We’ll have to see how much money we have, after we’ve paid for this.”

  “Oh, Lord,” said Jania, “suppose we don’t have enough?”

  “I suppose we all went a little crazy,” Laketa said.

  “Like cows that’s been grazin’ on locoweed,” said Rusty.

  He was saved from the consequences of that remark by the arrival of McClendon, as he began separating the items and making note of prices. Eventually, he placed a bill with the total beside each girl’s purchases.

  “Oh, I’m afraid to look,” Bonita said.

  Vic laughed. “It’s twelve hundred dollars.”

  With a frightened squawk, Bonita snatched the bill.

  “Why, it’s a hundred and twenty dollars,” she cried.

  “Sorry,” said Vic cheerfully. “I never was good with numbers.”

  It prompted Jania and Laketa to seize their own bills before Rusty or Ash could tease them in a similar manner.

  “Mine’s a hundred and twenty-eight dollars,” Jania said.

  “I owe a hundred and thirty-five,” said Laketa. “We can go through the store again.”

  “My God, no,” Rusty groaned.

  “You can’t wear none of that finery on the trail,” said Vic desperately. “Can’t the rest of it wait till we get to Santa Fe?”

  “If you’re goin’ through all that again,” Ash said, “you’ll be doin’ it without me. I’m plumb dead from the knees down.”

  “Why, you poor boys,” said Bonita, a twinkle in her eyes. “I suppose we can get by with these few things until we reach Santa Fe.”

  The three of them paid for their purchases and waited while McClendon wrapped them in brown paper and tied them securely with string.

  “I suppose we’re ready to go,” Laketa said.

  “None of us has had a chance to buy anything,” said Rusty.

  “Nobody’s stopping you,” Laketa said. “We’ll wait.”

  “No,” said Rusty, “I’m not so good at this kind of thing. You’ll have to help me.”

  “Bonita,” Vic said, “I aim to buy just one thing, and I can’t do it without you.”

  “Whoa,” said Ash. “I’m gettin’ left out. Jania, I want you to go with me.”

  The three women looked at one another and then at the three cowboys, but there wasn’t a telltale grin among them. Each was solemn as a judge.

  “Mr. McClendon,” Vic said, “bring out them goods we was lookin’ at yesterday.”

  McClendon brought out three little boxes, giving one to each of the cowboys. Quickly, each man took the left hand of his intended, removed a diamond ring from the box, and placed it on her ring finger.

  “You don’t get the gold band until the preacher reads from the Book,” Vic said.

  For a long moment, the three women stood there as though in shock. But they came out of it quickly, and with shrieks of joy, began bestowing kisses on the three delighted cowboys. They broke away long enough to pay McClendon for the rings, and with the three excited women taking the lead, rode back across the river. Knowing what was about to take place, Wiley and Whit were waiting, grinning.

  “Wiley, Whit,” Bonita shouted, “look!”

  She seemed to forget her many parcels, dropping them as she all but fell off the horse. Jania and Laketa followed her lead, and the three of them stood there, their left hands in the air. The rest of the outfit wasn’t as surprised and pleased as Wiley and Whit. Gavin and Woody looked at one another, the implication of what they were seeing bringing frowns to their faces. Only Nip Kelly laughed.

  “Congratulations, ladies and gents,” Nip said. “I’ve never seen so many diamonds all in one place. They’re enough to blind a man.”

  But after the initial shock, Gladstone Pitkin had shifted his attention to his daughters, Nell and Naomi. The two seemed struck dumb, but
they cast stormy looks at Woody and Gavin that said their silence was only temporary. Of a single mind, they stomped off down to the river and stood there as though contemplating drowning themselves.

  “Tarnation,” said Vic, “they’re clouded up enough to rain all over Kansas, Texas, and New Mexico Territory.”

  “I reckon we know who’s responsible for that,” Gavin said. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Yeah,” said Woody. “You’re pards to ride the river with.”

  To the total surprise of everybody, Gladstone Pitkin laughed. Slapping his thighs like a cowboy, he roared. None of them had ever seen Pitkin laugh before, and Nip Kelly regarded him as though he had taken leave of his senses.

  “Come on, Gavin,” Woody said. “We got some talkin’ to do.”

  Like condemned men, they made their way toward the river where Nell and Naomi had their backs turned. Woody didn’t beat around the bush. He walked around in front of Nell but before he could say a word, she pushed him in the river. Gavin was careful not to offer Naomi a similar opportunity. Remaining behind her, he spoke.

  “Naomi, we didn’t know they aimed to do this. Damn it, Woody and me didn’t know a frontier general store even had such finery.”

  Woody climbed out of the river, shaking his head to clear his eyes and ears of water. Nell regarded him with a half-smile, and it was more than he could take. Seizing her, he dropped her into the river. That prompted Gladstone Pitkin to break into yet another fit of laughter, it proved contagious, and soon he was joined by Nip Kelly, Rusty, Vic, and Ash. Bonita, Jania, and Laketa resisted the urge to laugh, for they understood what had piqued the two Pitkin girls. Nell crawled out of the river, voicing her opinion of Woodrow Miles in spectacular terms that left the listening cowboys envious. Gavin stood behind Naomi, and in a fury, she turned to face him.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she snapped.

  “Oh, but I would,” said Gavin.

  He gave her a gentle shove and sent her headfirst into the river. It was deep enough that when she struggled to her feet, the water came to her armpits. She stood there and called Gavin some choice names that would have done credit to a bull-whacker. Gladstone Pitkin had apparently exhausted his new-found sense of humor. When Nell climbed the river bank on hands and knees, Pitkin was there to greet her.

  “That will be quite enough out of you, young lady,” Pitkin said. “I tend to think you got what you deserve.”

  “Father!” said Naomi, “how can you…”

  “That goes for you, as well,” Pitkin snapped. “If I ever again witness so unladylike a tantrum, I’ll take a strap to both of you. Now you’re going to apologize to everybody for your childish attitudes.”

  “Never!” Nell shouted.

  “I suppose you are of the same mind,” said Pitkin, his eyes on Naomi.

  “Damn right I am,” Naomi said.

  “Very well,” said Pitkin. “The two of you will go to the wagon, where you will remain until you see fit to apologize for your crude behavior.”

  Unrepentant, the two started for the wagon. When they were out of hearing, Woody spoke to Pitkin.

  “Pit, maybe Gavin and me should talk to them.”

  “No,” Pitkin said. “You handled them exactly right. Don’t spoil it.”

  “If they apologize,” Gavin said, “maybe we ought to take them to the store and buy them rings.”

  “No,” said Pitkin. “They’re of age, and if you and Woody still want them when we’ve reached Santa Fe, then take them with my blessing. But until then, they’re going to behave as ladies, if it kills them.”

  Nell and Naomi spent the rest of the day sulking in the wagon, and when suppertime came, Pitkin forbade the taking of any food to them.

  “They got to be half-starved,” Gavin said sympathetically.

  “I reckon they are,” said Woody, “but Pitkin’s laid down the law.”

  The camp was asleep except for the men on the first watch and the unrepentant Pitkin women. They crept out of the wagon seeking Woody and Gavin.

  “How can you let him treat us like…children?” Nell cried.

  “He believes that’s the way you were acting,” said Woody, “and I agree.”

  “Same here,” Gavin said.

  “All men are heartless brutes,” said Nell bitterly.

  “Maybe,” Woody replied, “but we’re all you’ve got. What have you accomplished by sulking, hunkered here in the wagon, without your supper?”

  “Nothing, I suppose,” she replied in a small voice.

  “He’s right,” said Naomi resignedly. “We were jealous of the Stubbs girls, and father knew it. We took it out on Gavin and Woody. We behaved like a pair of harpies.”

  “That you did,” Gavin said cheerfully, not completely sure what a harpie was.

  “Very well,” said Nell. “In the morning we’ll apologize. Then do we get rings like the Stubbs girls have?”

  “No,” Woody said. “Your daddy forbids it. If you hadn’t let your jealousy override your common sense, Gavin and me would likely have bought the two of you a set of rings. Now your daddy says you’ll wait till we reach Santa Fe.”

  “Damn him,” said Nell venomously, “I can’t wait to be out from under his thumb. Him and his proper English ways.”

  Gavin laughed. “His English ways ain’t all that different from Texas ways. You was plumb lucky, gettin’ pushed into the river. When I get my brand on you, and nobody else is around, I’ll strip you and take a piggin’ string to your bare behind.”

  “I couldn’t have said that better, myself,” said Woody.

  “Then maybe you won’t be getting your brands on us,” Nell said spitefully.

  “Maybe we won’t,” said Woody. “Your daddy’s already said we’re free to change our minds when we reach Santa Fe.”

  “Yeah,” Gavin added. “Pitch another fit like you did today, and your daddy will be stuck with you from now on.”

  “I can’t believe he’d treat us this way,” said Naomi. “Those Stubbs trollops…”

  “They’re not trollops,” Woody said, “and nobody knows that better than the two of you. I don’t blame Rusty, Vic, and Ash for buying them the rings. They’ve never said an unkind word to either of you, while you’ve cut them down at every turn in the trail. Here on the frontier, we don’t abide by snooty, stuck-up behavior. Damn it, you’re going to be civil to them, if it kills you.”

  Neither of the furious women said a word, which left Woody and Gavin with all the excuse they needed to terminate the stormy conversation. They returned to the first watch.

  Santa Fe, New Mexico Territory. July 11, 1869.

  The note from Tobe Hankins was brief. Deuce Rowden read it aloud.

  Crossing the Jornada. Ride.

  “We still don’t know when,” York Eagan said.

  “This is all we’re about to get,” said Rowden. “We know they’ve reached the fort, and it’s maybe twenty miles from there to the crossin’. They’ll be comin’ out of the desert six days from now. We got two hundred miles to ride, and that’s a good four days.”

  “I don’t like the last word in that message,” Jude Epps said. “It sounds like a threat.”

  Rowden’s laugh was ugly. “Threat, hell, that’s a promise. If we don’t carry out Tobe’s orders, we’re finished in Santa Fe, among other places. We got to get us some grub and be on our way.”

  “Look yonder,” Wiley said proudly, pointing to his and Whit’s wagons.

  Each of the wagons had a brand new water barrel mounted on each side of the wagon box.

  “It’s the sensible thing to do,” said Woody approvingly.

  Breakfast was ready, but Pitkin restrained them.

  “My daughters have something to say to all of you,” Pitkin said. “Especially, I think, to Woody and Gavin.”

  The apology didn’t come easy. Nell and Naomi stood with their heads down, and it was Nell who spoke first.

  “I am sorry for my display of temper yesterday. Woody, I’m sorry I push
ed you in the river.”

  She paused as though she half expected Woody to apologize for his similar treatment of her, but Woody said nothing.

  “I am sorry I lost my temper yesterday,” said Naomi. “Gavin, I’m especially sorry for what I did to you.”

  Her eyes couldn’t meet Gavin’s, and like Woody, he said not a word.

  “Now that we have the necessary unpleasantries out of the way,” Pitkin said, “let us all have breakfast and be on our way.”

  Once the herd was moving, Woody rode on ahead. He wanted to be sure just how far they had to travel before reaching the Cimarron Cutoff. He rode twenty miles, and still the wagon ruts continued following the Arkansas. Ten miles later, he found what he was seeking, for there the trail forked. One set of ruts continued almost due west, following the Arkansas, while the other veered away to the southwest. He reined up, looking into the formidable Jornada. As far as the eye could see there was only sand, seeming to stretch on into infinity. There wasn’t a tree or clump of grass. Miles away, in the painful blue of the sky, buzzards circled. It seemed like they always took a hand in the game, and when a man had played his last cards, the macabre scavengers were there to collect all bets. Wheeling his horse, Woody rode back to meet the outfit.

  “Another inaccuracy in the map,” said Woody, as he rode beside Pitkin’s wagon. “I’d say it’s more like thirty miles from Fort Dodge to the Cimarron Cutoff.”

  “I can’t see that it matters,” Pitkin replied. “Even if we reach the crossing at midday, shouldn’t we wait until the following morning to begin the trek across the desert?”

  “Not necessarily,” said Woody. “Half the distance across that desert will be in the daytime, at the mercy of the sun. Suppose we watered the stock, and at sundown, drove them all night? At first light we keep them moving and drive them all day.”

  “It is my belief that you would have an unruly herd, completely out of control,” said Pitkin.

  “The second night,” Woody said, “we would rest them until midnight and then drive them on as far as they would go. With any luck, we can get them three-quarters of the distance across the desert and then stampede them the rest of the way.”