by Dani Larsen
"Does anybody know what happened to Lefors after Tom's trial?"
"No, I haven't heard anything about him since then. I think he made up that whole confession he said Tom told him when he was drunk. First of all, Tom was smarter than that. He wouldn't have confessed to anything, and secondly, Lefors was a known liar, and thirdly, I think Lefors just wanted to get rid of Tom Horn, because a lot of people looked up to him, even though he was a known gunslinger, and nobody liked Joe Lefors."
"Yeah, I think you might be right, Charlie. I think Lefors was one bad lawman. I don't know where he's at, but if he's still around I'd bet that he was up to no good."
The train was just arriving at Kemmerer, Wyoming, as they finished their conversation. It was four thirty, and they had a two hour break for dinner. Charlie again went to feed and water Jody, and Sonny went in and saved a table at the restaurant by the tracks. Two hours later, they were headed down the tracks toward Rock Springs, where they would have a short fifteen minute stop. From there, they took a mountainous ride across the Continental Divide through Rawlings, Laramie, and on to Cheyenne, where they were scheduled to arrive early the following morning. The train would travel four hundred forty-three miles from Pocatello to Cheyenne and make five stops in between.
The men tried to sleep on the long ride, but found it difficult with all the stops. When they arrived in Cheyenne they both departed from the train. Cheyenne was a major hub and Charlie needed to change trains, as he was headed south and would take the Denver train, which he couldn't catch until the next day. Sonny and Charlie got their horses off the train, ate breakfast together, and said their goodbyes. Charlie put his horse in the stable overnight and checked into the nearby hotel to await the last half of his trip home.
The next day, his new train left at nine o'clock in the morning and traveled through Greeley and on to Denver, where it arrived at twelve thirty in the afternoon. This route basically followed the north branch of the Old Spanish Trail, which went through the San Luis Valley of Colorado south to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where Charlie's wife and ranch waited for him. After an hour and a half lunch break, the train went on to Pueblo, Colorado, where it arrived at six p.m. Charlie took care of his horse in the livestock car, slept in the car which sat there overnight, and then they left at seven the next morning and headed to Alamosa, Colorado. After an hour lunch break, they headed to the railhead town of Antonito, where Charlie got off of the train for good.
After he spent the night in the hotel and Jody was tended to in the livery stable, he rode out of town early the next morning following the Old Spanish Trail south. He knew he was almost home when he reached the Colorado-New Mexico Territory border. He stopped at Tres Piedras to eat the lunch he had purchased at the hotel, and then rode all the way to Oho Caliente where he spent the night.
When he woke up on the eighth day he felt better than he had in months, as he knew he would be home before dark. The weather was much warmer in New Mexico and the sun was shining. He stopped to eat lunch in Chimayo and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. He made it home to his ranch, just north of Santa Fe, by four o'clock in the afternoon.
His wife was so happy to see him that she squealed when he opened the front door of the ranch house. After a wonderful greeting, she ran back to the kitchen to tell Rosa to prepare a celebratory dinner for their evening meal. All of the ranch hands came in to welcome him home, and to give him an update on the ranch.
The couple enjoyed their happy reunion and the fiesta the workers put on in their honor. Rosa had prepared a huge array of Mexican food for everyone to enjoy. After the sumptuous feast, Charlie and Louise sat back and enjoyed a bottle of Mexican wine while Rosa cleared the table. Finally, she asked him if he was home for good.
"My dear wife, I wish I could tell you that I will not leave again, but there is something I must take care of. There is just one loose end that I must follow, and one criminal that needs to be caught and put in jail. If I can do that, and I think I know where he has gone, then I want to try one more time to track him down. I have been so close for the last few years that I will feel like I have failed if I don't give it one last effort to find him."
"What has this man done that makes it so important for you to catch him?"
"First of all, he was an accomplice in the murder of the governor of Idaho. Secondly, I believe he killed his foster parents by burning their room up with them inside. Thirdly, he beat his mother so badly she had to have her jaw rewired. Fourthly, I believe he had something to do with a car accident that the ranch owner he worked for was involved in, which almost killed him and left him mentally incapacitated. Lastly, I believe he murdered the madam in a bordello in Oregon by tossing her out of a window."
"Oh dear, he does sound like a bad one. How long will you work at trying to find him before you give up, and when will you leave again, Charlie?"
"I plan to leave as soon as winter is over and the trees begin to blossom again. I need to go up to the Montana territory and the Canadian border to look for him. If I don't find him by the end of August I promise to return home, give all my clues to someone else, and retire for good. I wish I could stay home this time, my love, but something is telling me that I am the only one who realizes how evil this man really is. In the meantime, I plan to spend some time with my beautiful wife."
Louise looked at him and smiled, and he came over and kissed her gently. Even in her fifties, she was still a lovely woman. Her hair was mostly dark brown with streaks of white, and her skin was clear and unblemished with only a few tiny wrinkles around her large hazel eyes. He loved her dimpled cheeks and the straight white teeth that sparkled when she smiled. She stood up to meet him and returned his kiss passionately. Without another word he led her toward the bedroom, as Rosa came in to clear the last of the glasses from the table.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Ranch Life in Keating"
1917
Little Bert was five months old when Anna realized she was going to have a sixth child. She was still nursing so she couldn't understand how she could be with child again so soon, but she was sure it was true. She decided to break the news to George when he came in from the fields. After finishing her chores in the barn, she was planning on churning butter when he came in for an early lunch break. Sweat was rolling off of his face in the late spring heat. She picked up a towel and wiped his face and neck off for him, thinking how handsome he was when he smiled at her, as he kissed her on the forehead. He went to the sink and pumped a glass of water and drank thirstily. The baby laughed happily and kicked his little legs with glee when he saw his father. He was sitting in a blanket in the apple crate when George came over and picked him up.
"Bert certainly is the happiest of all of our children at this age."
"Yes, he is. He smiles all the time and never fusses. The girls love to play with him. I guess there is no better time than now to give you the news."
"What news is that, Anna?"
"George, I believe we are going to be parents again."
He looked surprised and sat down at the table without saying a word. He put little Bert on his knee, and the delighted baby started clapping his hands.
"I'm sorry, George, I thought because I was nursing that I couldn't get pregnant until I weaned him, but that doesn't seem to be what has happened."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Anna. God wants us to have another child, and we should be happy about it. I'm just worried about how we are going to be able to feed another one. We both seem to be working twelve hours or more a day and yet we are barely getting by, and you won't be able to keep that up through another pregnancy."
Little Bert reached up and patted his father's face and giggled, as George wiggled his nose and crossed his eyes to entertain his little son.
"I have already been thinking that perhaps we should be making a change. This is just not enough land for us to make a go of it without adding a lot more help, which we can't afford. The children are still too young to be of much help. John tr
ies, but he is only eight."
"Yes, we all seem to be working long hours to make a success of this farm, and it isn't that much land. Do you have some ideas about what we can do to make things better?"
"I'm thinking we should sell the land and move into Baker City for a few years, until the children are big enough to start working a farm. I heard that there is need of policemen in the city, and I think I could easily do that job. We can save the money from the sale of our property and rent for a while, if we can't find a cheap enough house. Then we could save until we have enough money to invest in a bigger piece of property, maybe a dairy farm, which wouldn't have that much work involved. Although I love it here, and I know you do too. I just don't think it is working for us. What do you think about it, Anna?"
"I just feel bad that I can't help you out more on the farm. The kids will be unhappy about moving, because there is so much room to play here. But we are barely getting by, so I have to think you are right, George. Mama asked me last Sunday if we were doing okay, and I really didn't know what to say. It seems Da was worried about us making a go of it with only eighty acres."
"I think your father is right, it is not enough land for us to make a successful living here. If we have more property, we will need our children to be older for them to be of help, or we would need to hire help, which we certainly can't afford with only eighty acres. Anna, you work so hard, don't you dare think you are not doing enough to help me. You do so much, besides taking care of the children. I am so lucky to have you as my wife."
"Thank you, George. I feel so lucky to have found a man like you. Let's talk to my parents about it when they come up for supper on Sunday."
After church on Sunday the Troys arrived for supper, bringing two chickens and several crates of food. When they had all finished the large meal, Anna said that they had some important things to talk to them about. Fan and Zee took the hint, put the children's coats on, and took them outside to play, except for Bert who sat happily grinning in his apple crate.
"Steve, would ye get that saddle from the wagon and put it away in the back of their barn?"
Anna was surprised and looked at her mother quizzically.
"Anna, I know ye are probably not ready for that saddle yet, but we are cleaning things out and taking what we don't need or use into town for that charity event next weekend at St. Francis. We just wanted to get rid of everything possible, so Fan and Zee wouldn't have to try to figure out what to do with things if something happened to us. It is in a big crate, and we covered it with a blanket and put some other things on top of it so John won't see it. Ye can just leave it in the box until ye are ready to deal with it."
"Okay, Mama. We will just leave it in the barn for a while. The kids won't even know it's there. I'm hoping John has forgotten about it anyway. Da, we have some important things to talk to you about. First of all, it seems that I am going to have another baby probably in early spring. George and I have been talking about it, and we don't think we can make it on this farm any longer. We are just barely surviving. If it wasn't for you bringing all this food up every Sunday, I don't know what we would do."
John and Mary looked at each other knowingly, and finally he spoke.
"First of all, congratulations on the new wee one. Yes, six children will be a lot, but we raised six and have always been happy that we had them all. We have been thinking the same thing about yer property. We don't think this is enough land to make it a profitable place for such a large family. The problem is that I don't know if there is any other property available right now that would be big enough for what ye need."
George had been just listening and smoking his pipe, and he finally spoke up.
"We have been talking about it, and we think we have come up with a solution. They are looking for policemen to hire in Baker City, and I think I would be good at that. If I can sell this property, we should be able to either buy a small place there, or rent a house, and still have some money left to save. If I work there until the children are big enough to start helping on a farm, we can save some money, and then we can maybe buy a dairy farm, which would be easier on all of us, and we would have a better chance of making a go of it."
"That actually sounds like a good idea, George. If ye need a letter of recommendation for the job in Baker City I would be happy to provide ye with one. I was a constable here in the county at one time so it might help."
"Thank you, John. That would be much appreciated. I don't think I'd better take that job though until we get this property sold. It would be too hard to keep the farm up and go back and forth daily to Baker City for work. I hope there are still openings in the police force when I get this farm sold."
"Yes, it might be best to wait until after the little one arrives, as it will be a big job to move from a farm to a smaller home in the city. Do ye think ye can make it here until next year?" Mary asked.
"We have made it this long, I'm sure if we wait until next spring it would be the best for all of us."
The summer of 1917 went well for the family. George cultivated his crops and sold his dairy products to the neighbors in the small town of Keating, and every Saturday he took a buckboard full of eggs, milk, butter, and cheese to the market in Baker City and sold most of it. He needed to save enough money for the growing family to make it through the winter to come.
The children helped all they could; John and Helen were good help as they collected eggs in their baskets and fed the chickens. Joseph helped too, but he often got carried away chasing the chickens. Mary and Bert went with Anna to the barn where she milked the cows in the morning hours, until she got too big to continue that job. She carried Bert in her sling, and Mary sat by her side most of the time, until her curiosity got the better of her, and she started wandering around the barn. Anna had to keep an eye out for her while she was milking, or she was likely to get into something dangerous. Anna spent the rest of the day churning butter, making cheese, and putting the milk and eggs in containers to sell.
The children were good at entertaining each other. They played on the rope swing in the yard, picked wildflowers, and played games. John and Helen read to the other children when they got bored. Anna took them with her to pick strawberries and raspberries in the small garden she had planted, and then she would make jellies and jams out of the berries. George sold a lot of her canned goods in the fall along with his harvested products.
George hoped to be able to sell dairy products through the winter, but it all depended on the weather. Winters were usually harsh in Eastern Oregon, especially in the higher country, like Keating. The average high temperature in December was thirty-four degrees and the low was sixteen degrees, so the family rarely made it out of the house during those months. George had to stack up enough firewood to last them through February and maybe through March. It could get bad in November, as the average high was forty-four and the low was twenty-two. Once it snowed, the family could be stuck inside until the beginning of March if it got cold enough to freeze. George would be able to collect eggs and milk and make it far enough by horse to sell to his neighbors in Keating, but he couldn't get as far as Baker City, or even to the Troy Ranch.
The harvest of 1917 was better than expected. George harvested the crops on his own and sold as much as he could. September was colder than usual, but October started out warm with highs in the upper sixties, but by the end of the month the temperatures dropped considerably. On the 31st of October, it was forty-four degrees during the day and dropped to sixteen at night. It started snowing on November 5th and didn't quit until the morning of the 7th.
The wind was blowing so hard that there were huge drifts everywhere, which made it difficult for George to get to the barn, and for everyone to get to the outhouse. Thinking ahead, as he always did, he fed and watered the animals when it started snowing. He brought the shovel inside the house before the flakes became a blizzard. He shoveled a path to the barn, so he could milk the cows and clean the stalls, but the path was covered by the
time he returned on the 5th, and he had to shovel it again to get back to the house.
When he woke up the next day, the snow was piled so high that he couldn't open the door to get outside. There was a four feet high drift in front of it. The little ones had to use the old pail that Anna had saved in case they couldn't reach the outhouse. George had put up a heavy wire which reached from the house to that building, so that anyone could find their way there and back even in a blizzard. But this morning it was covered with snow. He went out the bedroom window and had to shovel a three foot drift out of the front of the barn, before he could reach the sliding door to get inside to take care of the animals. He was exhausted when he finished, and he still had to shovel the drift away from the door to the house. He knew by mid-November that they were in for a long winter, and he hoped by the time the new baby was due in early March that the weather would improve, so he wouldn't have to deliver the child himself.
Anna washed clothes in the kitchen sink, and George made sure the water didn't freeze in the pump from the well. Diapers had to be washed, if nothing else, so that the overpowering smell of ammonia didn't make everyone sick. Then she would drape them over the rocking chairs in front of the fireplace to dry them. George had to bring in firewood from the covered area next to the house, where he had stacked the wood and covered it with a tarp to keep it dry and burnable. Life was tough for the young family during that winter, and Anna and George prayed things wouldn't get worse. They both decided that it was definitely necessary for the family to move to the city come spring. George didn't think they would make it through another winter like this one. He even thought that it might be a good idea to move to a better climate in Oregon, to have a successful dairy farm, when the time was right.
The Troys rarely made it up to see them on Sundays in the winter. If they were lucky, the temperatures would warm up a little, and Fan and Zee would bring up a wagon full of meat, fruits, and vegetables, and turn right around and head for home before it got dark. The last thing they wanted to happen was for it to start snowing or freezing before they got home. The Troy Ranch was pretty much self-sufficient, as they grew almost everything they needed and slaughtered their own beef.
