Thankful for the Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  Lauren froze and stared at the man. She saw very few strangers. Fort Niobrara had nearly overwhelmed her, but she at least expected to see people there.

  But none came to her place. She didn’t carry a gun when she was around the ranch and maybe, just maybe, she should.

  A rattle and movement from behind the man drew her eye and she saw a second wagon being driven by a very young woman. She wasn’t far behind the man but seeing a woman traveling with him settled Lauren’s nerves.

  Outlaws didn’t bring their wives…her eyes narrowed on the woman…or daughters perhaps?

  The man swung down from the high seat of his buckboard and tugged his battered Stetson off his head. He wore no gun she could see and had a friendly, open expression. His hair was as red as Rory’s. As red as hers. And the girl driving—as she came closer, Lauren saw it was definitely a girl not an adult woman—had tight red curls that had escaped from her woolen bonnet.

  “I’m Thomas MacKinnon, Ma’am.” The man spoke with a deep Scottish accent, far stronger than hers. He hadn’t come over from the old country very long ago. “Your son, Conall, sent me. I build windmills.”

  At the mention of Conall, Lauren had to fight not to pepper the man with questions. Stop herself from begging to know how her son fared.

  Then a bright light flared in her mind. Yes, of course, Conall had known they needed water. That’s why he’d left, to find someone who would dig a well and build a windmill. Her heart soared. “Conall brought you back here?”

  She looked past the man, past the young woman. There was no one else, but maybe Conall had turned off, maybe—

  “No, Ma’am. He was headed on east. He was headed for the train in Norfolk. Said he was off to see a bit of the world.”

  Fighting down the disappointment she forced herself to think of what else the man had said. “Windmills?”

  “Aye, your son found me in a town about one hundred miles east of here over a week ago.” Thomas MacKinnon’s accent had a sound that brought memories of pleasure and grief.

  “I’ve been heading here ever since. He paid out for me to build you a windmill. And he knew I was looking for land. At his advisin’, I claimed the property next over from you. My little sister, Megan claimed a stretch of land herself.”

  “Sh-she doesn’t look twenty-one.”

  Thomas blinked and looked back at the young girl pulling the team of sturdy draft horses to a stop with easy competence. “She’s a full adult woman who carries her weight and then some. And I’ve no real idea how old she is.”

  “You don’t know how old your sister is?”

  Thomas raised his voice. “Megan, how auld are you?”

  “Twenty-one, Tommy and well you know it.” The girl had an impish smile and green eyes to match her brothers. Lauren doubted very much the girl was a day over sixteen.

  “If she says she’s twenty-one then she is.” Lauren thought of her boys chomping at the bit to claim their own homesteads. Would Conall do that? And if he did, would it be around here? He’d gone off, because he was too restless to wait three more years. He’d argued that he wanted to claim a homestead now and she’d told him no. Maybe if she’d—shaking her head before the same thoughts she’d had a thousand times since he’d left began circling—she focused on the pair before her.

  “Welcome. Conall knew I was that worried about water. A windmill is the answer to many a prayer. I didn’t know there was anyone around who could build one. But I hope Conall didn’t short his own money too much.”

  “Conall told me the way of it. The dry year, the expanding herd.” Thomas’s musical accent soothed her worries. “And he helped me claim land close to you and not so terribly far from neighbors to the east and south.”

  “I know where those claims are. A far piece. They can barely qualify as neighbors,” Lauren said.

  Thomas gave her an easy smile. “It’s a vast land and no denying it. Building windmills is my trade but I’ve a longing to claim my own bit of the old sod. I can build windmills for others around even while I’m settling here.”

  “But what about being paid?”

  “Conall said you’d probably need more than one windmill. He thought perhaps you’d be willing to trade a few head of cattle for each windmill, he thought you needed about three windmills to weather the coming cold. I’d trade the labor and material for the second and third windmills for fifteen cattle.”

  “Fifteen head of cattle in exchange for two windmills?” That was fifteen head of cattle she might not be able to keep alive through the winter with no water. “It’s a deal.”

  Thomas held up a hand. “There’s a bit more I’ll be needin’.”

  She swallowed hard. That was too good of a deal. She should’ve known. Silently she waited for him to want cash money she didn’t have.

  “I’ll be wanting help. Conall said you’ve three strapping lads who know how to work.”

  “I’ve got four strapping lads. But one of them, Conall, set out to seek his fortune two weeks ago.”

  “I can make do with three. I need help getting a soddy up as I’ve no idea how to build such a thing.” Thomas’s eyes gleamed with good humor. “And your wayward son, who seems a fine lad, h-he said…said…”

  The humor faded to…it looked like…nerves. Like the last part of the bargain he wanted to strike might be one thing too many.

  Lauren braced herself.

  Thomas swallowed hard. “Conall suggested that you might be able to help my sister and me learn how to live out here. What you find for food, especially with us too late in the year for a garden. How to cook what there is, and how to build and tend a sod house. You are, he said, the smartest woman he’s ever heard tell of and you know the way of these grasslands better than anyone he’s ever known.”

  The compliment from her son gave her such pleasure she was afraid she was blushing. And then she remembered her son had hardly ever met anyone in his life, so it was pure flattery. Still, it was sweet of him.

  “I’ll help you and be glad of it, Mr. MacKinnon. Yes, you have yourself a deal. And you have time, just barely enough. We’ll see you get a soddy up and herd your fifteen head of cattle to your place. We’ll help you scout your land for water and good grass and see that you’ve got stores for the winter. Conall was wise to think of what we have here on our land and offer you what we have aplenty of, food and strong backs.”

  She reached out a hand and he took it.

  Shaking hands wasn’t really something she did much. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched anyone who wasn’t her son or her husband. And Dougal being gone for months, made that memory faint.

  Lauren quickly released the strong, callused hand. “I’m working on dinner now. Unharness your horses and turn them loose in the corral with mine.” She pointed to her black mustang cropping grass. “You can come in while I get supper on and you’re welcome to rest here a few days after your long journey. And we can discuss where a windmill will be needed most. Or, if you’re eager to get to your own land, we’ll help you find it and get settled there. We need to get your soddy up before the winter winds blow.”

  “A meal will be welcome and we can make a few decisions whilst we eat.” He plunked his hat back on his head and turned to his sister. “Megan, this is Mrs. Drummond. Conall’s mother. You heard we’re invited to share a meal.”

  The girl gave Lauren a grateful smile.

  “Drive the wagons close to the barn. Unharness, turn your horses into the corral, and come on to the house when you’re ready.” Lauren gave them a friendly nod and headed in.

  It was only when she began slicing steak that she wondered how old Megan really was. Girls matured early but she was far short of an adult woman. Although honestly, was she any younger than Lauren had been when she set out, a married woman, with a bairn on the way and a dream of America?

  And Thomas. She considered him to be a fully adult man, close to her age. But with such a young sister, Lauren had to adjust his age dow
n.

  They had a large tarp over their wagons so there could be supplies enough for several windmills in there. But it occurred to her as she near to doubled the food she planned to prepare, that she might well have gotten the answer to her prayers, but it was also possible she’d just adopted two more mouths to feed.

  Chapter Three

  Tom MacKinnon hadn’t sat down to a home-cooked meal made in a house by a woman in years. Probably not since he’d headed for America.

  “That’s venison?” He patted his stomach and smiled at Lauren. “I’ve never done much hunting. But a man needs to learn.”

  “I brought down a deer today,” Niall reached for another biscuit. “I’ll be glad to take you hunting and teach you to butcher a deer and salt the meat to make jerky. It’ll keep the winter through.”

  Megan laid her knife and fork aside. His little sister and he had only met about a year ago. Tom felt like he’d taken a stranger under his wing, but when he’d gone home after far too long to see his family, he found his ma long dead. His pa dying, the six brothers and one other sister gone on to homes of their own, and this one straggler child in the kind of tight spot only a pretty young woman with no one to protect her could get into. She needed someone of her own in the world who’d get her away from the place she lived.

  He’d told her his plans to take the skills he’d learned from being apprenticed to a man who built windmills and head to America. She’d beaten him to the wagon to set out.

  They’d gotten on well on their journey and now here he was, finally putting down roots and finding a home for them, clear and away out in Nebraska.

  Running into Conall Drummond was a bit of luck.

  Tom had seen the stores the Drummonds had. Conall had said they’d just thinned their herd and bought land and supplies. The house was modest but in all other ways, the Drummonds seemed like wealthy folks, and good Scottish Highlanders to boot. He could learn how to get on from them. It was a fine bargain.

  “We’ll get your soddy up first,” Lauren Drummond said. “Before the cold settles down on our heads.”

  “I’ll do as you advise, Mrs. Drummond, but I mean to get a windmill up fast for you, too. At least the first one. I don’t expect you to give me cows and help build my home without proof I’m as good as my word.”

  Nodding, Lauren said, “The soddy first. Then one windmill.”

  “No, the windmill first and then the soddy.” Tom was firm.

  Lauren shrugged, not used to anyone else making decisions. “Then you’ll need a corral and, if we’ve time, a sod barn would be a fine thing, though maybe not necessary.” She seemed to ponder that as if weighing all that lay before them.

  “And then the second windmill over here.”

  Lauren seemed to sit straighter and Tom had the sense that she carried a lot of burdens. And well she might, a woman without a husband in a rugged land. But she had fine boys who did the work of adult men and it was clear she’d prospered.

  “And we need to drive our fifteen head of cattle to your land and scout out waterholes. You may need a windmill yourself, Mr. MacKinnon.”

  “Call me Tommy.” He regretted that. It was a child’s name. But the one Megan always used and he’d forgotten to think of himself as anything but a big brother.

  “That’ll be fine, Tommy. And I’m Lauren, the one talking hunting is Niall. Duncan is next, and the youngest is Rory.”

  “And Conall said your husband is gone near half a year. I’m sorry for such a loss as that, Mrs…uh…Lauren.”

  Nodding silently, Lauren didn’t speak for a bit.

  Tom watched her, that vivid red hair, eyes the blue of Loch Scavaig near where the Clan MacKinnon lived in Scotland. She was lively and wise and strong. She had a glorious smile and a deep love for her sons. And he saw the grief in her eyes when he talked of her husband. That grief sat on her shoulders like a heavy weight.

  He found himself longing to ease that weight.

  Now she managed a sad smile and said, “We’ll get your cows settled and try to convince them not to come running back to our herd, then see that you’ve got supplies for the winter.”

  “I’ve got supplies enough in my wagon to build five windmills. And I brought a goodly supply of food, but it’ll be a lean winter if we don’t find fresh meat and a few other necessities I’ll be hoping a few other folks can be convinced to put up a windmill and that’ll give me some cash money to run my place.”

  Megan spoke for nearly the first time beyond please and thank you. “It’s a wonder to me that you can cut the ground into bricks and build a house. A house for free if you’ve got the skill. Land under it for free when you homestead. And deer running about, and rabbits and game birds so food for free if you’ve the skill to catch it. We’ll live well in this country. Aye, it’s every day I wake up thanking God that my brother found me when he did and brought me along to America.”

  And that seemed to be prayer enough to end the meal and the day.

  The Drummond soddy had three bedrooms. Two boys in one, the older boy alone in another but there were two beds. Conall had slept in there.

  Tom was given the spare bed and Megan slept with Lauren in a good-sized bed meant for two.

  The empty places in this house had sad stories to go with them. But still the family worked and talked cheerfully. They all had a smile.

  Yes, Tom was glad to be in America. But finding the Drummonds was all the better. Tom thought of the evil they’d left behind. The way his father had died. The way his family had been scattered and what would have happened to Megan if he hadn’t come when he did.

  Aye, he woke up with thanksgiving on his lips every day, the same as his sister.

  But there was more to pray for because Tom hadn’t run to this far flung place at random. He’d put an ocean and half a continent between himself and Scotland because a powerful man wanted Megan.

  A man not used to being told no.

  He hoped he’d run far enough.

  Lauren saw the cold weather coming in the wind. The grass turning brown.

  And she had some doubts about the windmill getting built and doing as it was meant to do.

  Despite the nearby river, this was a dry land. She’d heard it called The Great American Desert.

  Beneath the grass was sand like you’d find on an ocean beach. And it amazed her that it was out so far from water and that grass grew on land that started blowing away the moment the grass was dug through.

  Lauren was inclined to keep her land holdings and her herd small, but losing Dougal had stirred something in her sons. They’d turned, especially in her Viking son, Niall, to talk of expansion. They talked of homesteads for all four of them and buying more land besides. They considered themselves cowboys and had heard of the huge ranches in Texas. They wanted a vast stretch of land to meet their ambitions.

  Niall had plans to double the herd every year from now on with the birth of baby calves, and buy more land along the way. A kingdom fit for a conquering warrior. More cattle, more land, more of everything for all of them. What else was there to do out here but grow?

  She watched Tommy dig right next to the pond nearest her house. The sand blew in his face and down his shirt. It was a mean job.

  “How do you know there’s water down there? Is it because it’s near the pond?”

  “I’ve some experience. I’ll be expecting water before I’ve dug far.”

  Whatever she asked, her questions were met with short answers and quiet confidence. She wanted to fret and ask more questions but she was no nag.

  Two men could dig but there wasn’t a job for the rest of them. The lumber for the windmill—all carried along on his wagons—would be assembled in place, once the well was built so they couldn’t begin building them yet.

  Rather than do one job at a time as they’d planned, first the well, then the soddy, Lauren left Tommy and Niall to the digging. And she, Duncan, Rory and Megan went to scout out the MacKinnon homesteads.

  The landm
arks and property lines were clear and they paced off a spot to build a house on the property line. Megan could sleep on her land, Tommy on his, while living in the same house. This would fulfill the requirement to build on their property, then they’d live there for five years and at the end of that time, they’d have full ownership of their claim.

  Tommy and Megan’s claims weren’t a normal shape. Together, it was long and thin due to the rugged breaks in the land, instead of being a neat rectangle. The border line was directly between a particularly steep sandhill and rather than fight that, Lauren decided to use it.

  She’d build a house that was part soddy and part dugout. Their sandhill they’d dig into had a nice southeast exposure. The north side would have the hill as it’s wall and roof. The wind would be well-blocked, the dugout warm and the house would go up fast.

  Her sons had been too young to build Lauren’s first house, but they’d helped build a barn and add three rooms onto their soddy that had started out as the legally required minimum size, twelve by fourteen feet.

  Now Lauren, Megan, Duncan and Rory were building one with two bedrooms for the MacKinnons right from the start, large enough to fulfill the twelve by fourteen feet requirement for them both. Megan would sleep in a room on her side and Tommy on his. Two bedrooms built on either side of a central room.

  Duncan, Rory and Megan dug up stout rocks to use to build a chimney.

  Lauren took the wagon on the long ride to the Niobrara River and cut down a stand of slender trees. There weren’t enough trees to build a whole house but they could be used for support beams for the bit of roof that stuck out from the hill, a door and window shutters, and a few sticks to use for building furniture.

  By the second day, Duncan turned to sodbusting. The rest of them started building the house. They loaded the sod strips on a sledge and dragged them to the sight of the house. Each strip was four feet long, two feet wide and four inches thick, grass on top clinging to the sand.