Trail Drive (The McCabes Book 5)

by Brad Dennison

  The boy called Luke was trying to sift through the wreckage. The woman was standing by, holding the young girl close to her.

  Luke said, “We’re left with nothin’. Nothin’ at all, ‘cept the clothes on our backs.”

  The woman said, “That’s not true, Luke. We are all alive, and we have each other.”

  She heard Zack approaching and looked over her shoulder at him. He was again struck by her beauty. Like something out of a painting.

  He shook his head and said, “The crops are gone. The twister tore right through the corn field. It dug a path of dirt maybe fifty feet wide. What it didn’t tear up directly was torn up by the wind it threw off. There’s nothing left at all.”

  She nodded.

  Zack’s hat was long gone. His horse had run off, and he hoped the animal had somehow been able to evade the funnel.

  He said, “My name’s Zack Johnson, by the way.”

  She sighed and allowed herself almost a grin. “We didn’t have time for proper introductions. Crystal Watkins. This is my daughter Mary and my son Luke.”

  For the first time, Zack noticed a little lilt to her voice. Like a trace of a British inflection.

  Luke was standing where the kitchen had been. He said, “The stove’s gone. You’d think it would be here in pieces. But it’s just plain gone. What’d the storm do? Suck it right up?”

  Zack nodded. He said, “I’ve seen such a thing.”

  The boy looked over at where the maple had stood. “And the tree’s gone. Pulled right up and out of the ground, the way you’d pull a weed.”

  Zack nodded again.

  He said to the woman, “I’m sure your husband will be all right. If he stays in town and waits out the weather. I’ll stay with you until he comes back. We’ll make a fire. It may not be easy, but some of the boards might be dry. We can even stay the night in the storm cellar if we need to.”

  She looked at her son and said, “Luke, why don’t you take Mary and look for Bessie?”

  She said to Zack, “Bessie’s our milk cow.”

  Luke said, “Do you think she lived through this?”

  She said, “We won’t know until we look for her, will we?”

  Luke gave his mother a look like he wasn’t sure she was being reasonable, but gave in to parental authority. He waded out of the mess of broken boards and took Mary’s hand.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go look for Bessie.”

  When the children were out of earshot, she said to Zack, “I don’t know you all that well, but somehow, I feel I can trust you.”

  He nodded.

  She said, “My husband won’t be coming back.”

  He waited for her to say what she had to say. She took a few paces, her arms folded about her. She was as soaked as Zack, and he was sure she was cold. He wished he had a jacket or blanket he could put about her shoulders.

  She said, “The children don’t know this, but Conner died almost eight months ago.”

  Zack wanted to ask how it was possible to keep something like this from her children for so long, but before he could, she continued on.

  “He wasn’t a good man, Mister Johnson. He drank. He was abusive. He never laid a hand on the children, but there were times at night, after he had been working the whiskey bottle, when he might backhand me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “He always was, too, afterward. He would beg forgiveness. And he had spells of ambitiousness. Building this windmill,” she waved a hand to where the windmill had been, though there was not a trace of it now. “But there were times when he just sat and drank and stared off at the wall, as though he was reliving some unimaginable horror from his past. I can’t imagine what it might have been. He talked little of his past. He was from Maryland and fought in the War, your War Between the States. But I know little of his experiences in it.”

  “You sound like you’re not from around here.”

  She shook her head. “Scotland, originally. We came to this country when I was but a child. I met Conner fourteen years ago.”

  She was silent a moment, looking off at the children. They were now beyond where the barn had been. The land dropped off and away, and Luke was looking down the decline and calling out, “Bes-sie!”

  The woman said, “Conner went to town for supplies, that he did, but eight months ago. You must understand, the nearest town is thirty miles away. To go is an overnight venture. The children attend a small schoolhouse two miles away, but any actual town involves a thirty-mile trek by wagon. Well, needless to say, he didn’t come back. I heard second-hand he had gotten into a card game after a few too many glasses of whiskey. He accused a man of cheating and the man didn’t take kindly to it. Conner carried a pistol and so did the other man, and you can imagine what happened. Conner was shot and killed.”

  Zack was shaking his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s not much to say.” She was still looking off toward the children and her back was to him.

  “You never told the children.”

  “I didn’t know how to. I’ve told them he’s away on business for the farm. Every so often, Mary would ask when he was coming back and I would say soon, or I would say he’ll be back when he can. After a while, she stopped asking. I think Luke suspected something was wrong from the very beginning. He is fast on his way to becoming a man. Maybe I should have told him, but he’s not a man quite yet. In many ways, he’s still but a boy. How can you tell a boy about his father, when his father was a man like Conner? Someday I will, but not yet. He needs to have the image of his father as a good man, something to aspire to.”

  “The crop you were growing...”

  She turned to look at him. “I put it in myself. Luke and I. He has taken on much of the work of a man.”

  “A boy grows up fast out here.”

  “And now it’s all gone.” Tears began running down her face. There were no sobs, but the water flowed.

  “Mrs. Watkins,” he said, “you can’t stay here. There’s nothing left.”

  She wiped away the tears and Zack thought she looked a little embarrassed. “Crystal, please.”

  “Well, only if you call me Zack.”

  She smiled and nodded. He returned the smile.

  He said, “We have a herd maybe five miles back. It’s a walk we’ll have to make on foot because my horse is long gone. I’m not sure what time it is, but if we get started now we ought to be able to make it before nightfall.”

  She said, “I can’t impose.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s no imposition at all. It’s called bein’ neighborly. I can’t just leave you and the children. You have nothing left here. We have food back at the chuck wagon, and you can dry off by the fire. We have extra blankets.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  He wanted to take her in his arms and not let go. But what he said was, “Nothin’ of the sort.”

  She called out to the children and they came back.

  Luke said, “I’m afraid Bessie’s long gone, Ma.”

  “It’s all right. Now, I have to ask you a question? We have a five mile walk ahead of us. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  43

  Johnny didn’t have to bring the herd to a stop, because it was doing so on its own. No critter is going to want to run face-first into cold, hard rain. Johnny sure didn’t want to and he couldn’t blame the cows for not wanting to, either.

  He was riding over to Josh to tell him they would wait out the storm there, but then overhead came a sort of whistling and a roaring.

  Johnny looked up to see a funnel cloud descending. He had seen them before, but this one was coming right at him.

  His horse spun in a complete circle then reared up violently. With the funnel descending right down on him, Johnny didn’t have the presence of mind to hang on, and he slid off and away and landed in a backward somersault on the ground. Josh’s horse was rearing and bucking, and he was managing to hold on, but just bare
ly.

  Johnny looked up at the funnel and saw it bending back upward, forming almost a loop. Then it began to dissipate.

  Even though it wasn’t touching down, it was throwing off enough wind that his hat went flying away and the rain was catching him in the side of the head like pebbles. He saw the canvas of the chuck wagon ripping partly away, and whipping in the wind like a bedsheet clipped to a clothes line.

  The herd wasn’t standing still for any of this. They let out a chorus of bellows, then began to run.

  Josh and his horse went down and the cows seemed to be running over him. Johnny screamed out his name, though his own voice sounded distant in the din all around him. The ground was shaking and the rain was driving into his face.

  Then Josh was up and running toward him. Josh was at the edge of the stampeding herd, and he managed to run past a few charging beasts and was then at his father’s side.

  Visibility was limited with the rain so strong, but Johnny could see Matt out there, still on his horse and riding hard, trying to stay with the herd. Coyote Gomez was there, too, and Kennedy.

  The chuck wagon’s team was turning and bucking, and Johnny saw old Ches fall away from the wagon seat, and then the team bolted into a full gallop. A loud boom of thunder echoed around them, and the team turned to their left and the wagon pitched over. The team dragged the wagon along for another fifty feet before stopping.

  Johnny and Josh ran over to Ches.

  “I’m all right,” he said, pushing himself up onto one elbow. “I’ve been through worse.”

  Johnny saw another twister drop, off in the distance. It looked like a strand of black yarn from where he stood. It twisted and danced for a few seconds, and then was gone.

  They got Ches to his feet and then Johnny ran to the chuck wagon. The team was panicking, partly because of the storm and partly because they probably felt trapped. They tried to bolt again, and dragged the wagon along for a few more yards.

  Johnny worked fast and unhitched the team and let them run. It would be safer this way. Hitched, they would only hurt themselves and do more damage to the wagon.

  Johnny found the herd was long gone. The ground was still shaking the way it will when a herd this size runs, but the shaking was dying down as they pulled away.

  The rain was now starting to let up a little. A streak of lightning snaked its way to the ground in the distance and there was another clap of thunder. Then the wind began to ease a bit, and the pounding rain slowed to a light drizzle.

  Ches said, “I’m gonna see what I can salvage from the chuck wagon.”

  Dusty and Ramon came riding over. Ramon was riding slumped over in the saddle, holding onto the side of his ribs.

  “Lost the remuda,” Dusty said, “and Ramon’s hurt. Got run over by a horse.”

  Kennedy returned to camp.

  Kennedy said, “They’re gone. Scattered all over the countryside. I never seen a worse stampede. Even worse than the last one.”

  Coyote came riding in. He shook his head and said, “They’re scattered for miles.”

  They all managed to get the chuck wagon uprighted again. The axels and wheels didn’t seem to be damaged.

  Johnny said to Ches, “See what kind of shape things are in. And see if you can get a fire going, and a pot of coffee. These men are gonna be wet and cold.”

  Josh said, “We’ve got four horses. That’s it. And five men missing.”

  “All right. Grab a cup of coffee and get warmed up, as soon as it’s ready. Once the rain fully stops, we’ll start a search.”

  Taggart came riding in. And Matt walked in on foot.

  “Got throwed,” he said. “My horse was killed in the stampede.”

  Taggart said, “No sign of Palmer and Patterson, or your brother Joe.”

  Johnny nodded. “Grab some coffee.”

  Dusty got the saddles off the horses. “One horse has thrown a shoe,” he said, “but otherwise they seem all right.”

  The drizzle eased off to a fine mist, and then was gone entirely. And then the drizzle came back, and then disappeared again. Johnny finally saw a break in the clouds to the west, and some blue sky.

  He said, “I think we’re through the worst of it.”

  Dusty said, “I’m going to saddle up and begin trying to round up the remuda.”

  Ramon was sitting against a wagon wheel, a cup of coffee in one hand. Ches thought he might have broken a rib. Ramon tried lying down, but found it was more comfortable to sit up.

  Ches said, “We gotta find somethin’ to wrap around those ribs.”

  Johnny took a cup of coffee. He checked the rifles and found they were dry, which was more than he could say for the cartridges in his revolver and his belt loops. He unloaded his gun and loaded in five dry .44-40 cartridges, and then filled his belt with them.

  “Let’s saddle up,” Johnny said. “And go find our missing men.”

  Johnny and Josh found the body of Patterson. Looked like he was just lying in the wet grass sleeping, but Josh dismounted and rolled him over. He could see Patterson’s neck was broken.

  Johnny said, “Might have happened when he got thrown, or maybe a steer ran over him.”

  Kennedy and Taggart came riding up. Kennedy said, “We didn’t find Palmer, but we found this.”

  He held up a tattered and torn piece of rawhide.

  “This was his vest. All that’s left of it.”

  The clouds broke up and the sun was once again out, just long enough to drift down toward the horizon. The day warmed a little, but not enough to help. Johnny’s clothes were still damp and he felt a chill.

  It was nearly dark and a fire was blazing away beside the chuck wagon when Johnny and Josh rode in. The wood in the possum belly was still dry. A fresh pot of coffee was boiling away and Ches had dumped some cans of beans into a pot and was heating them.

  Johnny said, “Is that coffee ready?”

  “Will be in a few minutes,” Ches said.

  Ramon was on his feet. Ches had taken an extra blanket and cut it into strips and wrapped them around Ramon’s ribs.

  Ches said, “He needs a doctor. He’s got one rib that’s broken right good. I seen one like that puncture a lung, once.”

  Johnny stripped the saddles from the horses and when he was done, the coffee was ready. He filled a cup.

  He said, “No sign of Palmer at all. I’ve seen it before. A man gets so run over by a herd there’s just nothing left of him. And Joe’s still missing.”

  Josh said to Dusty, “Any luck with the remuda?”

  Dusty said. “I found four of ‘em. One with Pa’s saddle.”

  Johnny said, “In the morning, we’ll get to work. Round up the remuda first. We’ll need them before we can start rounding up the herd.”

  Kennedy was standing off a ways, with a cup of coffee. He said, “Hey, someone’s coming.”

  Johnny walked around the wagon so he could get a better look. It was a man on foot.

  “Hello, the camp,” the man called out.

  It was Joe.

  He was soaking wet and his hat was gone, and he was favoring his left leg a little.

  Johnny shook his hand and said, “We were worrying about you.”

  “That coffee sure smells good.”

  Ches filled him a cup and Joe stood by the fire to try and warm up.

  He said, “I tried to stay with the herd but I got throwed. Landed hard and hurt my leg. Walked all the way in. Probably five miles. I couldn’t make very good time with my leg the way it is.”

  “Did you see any of the herd?”

  Joe shook his head. “They were still so skittish from the last stampede, and the grass fire. They’re long gone.”

  Kennedy called out again, “Someone else out there.”

  Johnny went to the edge of the firelight and saw three people on foot. One was a man and he was carrying a child. One of those afoot was a woman, and another a boy.

  He realized who the man was.

  “Zack,” he sa
id.

  Zack said, “You got four cold, wet, hungry people here.”

  44

  Crystal Watkins sat with Luke at one side of her and Mary at the other. Her arm was around Mary, pulling her close, and Mary was dozing. Zack found his soogan was still dry in the back of the wagon, and he unrolled it and wrapped the blankets around Crystal and the children.

  “But what about you?” she said. “You must be cold.”

  Zack waved off the suggestion, trying really hard not to shiver as he did so. “I’ve been cold before. A lot colder than this. Why, Johnny and me, we’ve ridden through blizzards and hail storms that make this kind of cold look mild.”

  But when Ches announced another pot of coffee was ready, Zack didn’t hesitate. And he made sure he was standing as close to the fire as possible while he drank it.

  Johnny came on over. “I was worried about you. I should have figured you were too tough for a storm like this to stop you.”

  “Like I was just sayin’, you and me’ve been through worse.”

  Johnny glanced down at Zack’s gun. “Your powder’s probably wet.”

  Zack still carried a cap and ball revolver. Each chamber had to be loaded manually with powder and a ball. You could buy pre-rolled paper cartridges, but Zack knew he might have to depend on his gun to stay alive and didn’t want to rely on cartridges rolled by a stranger.

  He said, “We still got that can of powder in the wagon?”

  Johnny nodded.

  Zack said, “What’s left of the herd?”

  “Don’t know yet. But it don’t look good. We could be ruined.”

  Crystal Watkins said, “We’re in roughly the same situation. The children and I now have only the clothes on our back.”

  Josh was there, with a plate of hot beans. He said, “That stream we found, and the pool of water. Shouldn’t be far ahead. Some of the beeves might make their way there. They can smell water sometimes from far off.”

  Zack shook his head. “Crystal and the children and I walked past there on the way here. A twister touched down and tore up the ground all around, and sucked the pond dry. There’s nothing left.”