by Jim Cox
“I can pay you five hundred dollars.”
Vincent hesitated with sagging shoulders before he responded. “That’s not much. It’s almost a steal at that price. Can’t you pay a little more?”
“I know the ranch is worth a lot more than I’m offering, but that’s all I can afford. Five hundred will buy you a rig and get you started again.”
Vincent studied on the matter for a minute or two and then nodded and extended his hand. “Have the papers drawn up, and I’ll sign for five hundred. The missus will be pleased when I tell her the news.”
They were about to leave when Bart asked, “Jug says you have a couple milk cows, a horse, and several chickens. Would you take a hundred dollars for them?” Vincent had already turned back to his work but gave a favorable nod to Bart’s question. His voice seemed to have left him.
The walk back to camp was silent. When they arrived, everyone was waiting, wondering how the meeting had gone. Jug spoke up. “I can’t stand the suspense any longer. Did you buy the ranch or not?”
“We’ll own the ranch as soon as I find someone to draw up the papers. We settled on five hundred.” Hugs and kisses followed. Douglas noticed Bart ambling away from the crowd, so after the jubilation had settled, he went to him. “What is it, Bart? What’s wrong?”
“I’m ashamed of myself for overplaying your hand, Mr. Douglas. I shouldn’t have offered him a hundred dollars for his stock. They’re not worth fifty. Be sure to take that hundred from my money.”
“Bart, I’m proud of you. You did a neighborly thing. You saw someone in need and reacted with compassion. It’s your nature, and besides, we’ll need the stock.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They were about to sit down for coffee when Jug approached them with an inquiring expression. “I can tell you have something on your mind, Jug. What is it?” asked Douglas.
“You know the ranch papers that need to be drawn up?”
“What about them? Do you know someone who can do the job?”
“Yes, sir. I can do the job.”
Bart and Douglas looked at Jug in amazement. “You know how to prepare legal documents?”
“That’s right. I was a lawyer back East and have done some legal work around here, too.”
Later that afternoon, Mrs. Douglas was starting for the Kaiser wagon with a plate of food when Bart delayed her. “What is it, Bart?”
“I want to ask you about a possibility for Mrs. Kaiser before you go to see her.”
“What do you have in mind, Bart?”
“Mrs. Kaiser will be finding a place in town to live, and won’t have a need for her team and wagon. Isn’t that right?”
“I suppose so. What are you getting at?”
“Well, the Vincents will need a rig when they travel back East. Why don’t we help both families by getting them together?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Bart. I’ll discuss it with her.”
Jug had the deed and other necessary papers ready by noon the following day. Douglas was impressed with the sophistication and detailed content of the documents, especially knowing Jug had prepared them. The sale documents covered all imaginable items, including the transfer of all unbranded and Double Box branded livestock. Double Box was the official name and brand for the Vincent ranch. Jug had left a blank space for the new official name when one was chosen. The selling price of five hundred dollars was specified along with the sale of Vincent’s personal livestock for one hundred dollars Bart had offered.
“I’ll need to borrow two hundred dollars of your money, Bart. I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back.”“Mr. Douglas, I’d be honored if you’d accept the money as a gift. You’ve been awfully good to me.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, as he turned toward the wagon to get the money.
By the following afternoon, the Double Box ranch was officially the Douglas’ property, with all documents signed and recorded. Mrs. Kaiser had talked with Jenny and made arrangements to live with the café owner. She’d start her cooking job in a couple of days or whenever she was up to it. She’d also settled with Mr. Vincent on seventy-five dollars for her wagon and team of horses.
“It’s been a good two days, Alice,” Herb said to his wife with a pleasant smile. “Our plans are coming together like we hoped.”
“Only faster. We didn’t plan to own a ranch for ten years.”
Douglas looked into his wife’s eyes and then pulled her to him for a lingering kiss.
Liz smiled and held back her own questions for a few minutes as she witnessed her parents’ embrace. When they turned to her, she said, “I think we should have a party tonight. Everything has fallen into place better than we expected and that’s a good reason to celebrate, don’t you agree?”
“That’s a good idea, Liz,” her father said. “Starting tomorrow, our days will be busy getting the ranch renovated and making preparations for the winter. Tonight is the only available time we’ll have for a party for several weeks.”
“We can invite a few of our close friends,” her mother said. “Let’s start with a nice supper. Liz, you can help prepare the meal, but first, find Bart and Stu and ask them to come here.”
Twenty minutes later, Liz returned with the two boys. “Do you need us, Mrs. Douglas?” asked Bart.
“Yes, I do. Go tell Mrs. Kaiser we’re having a celebration and let her know if she’s up to it, we’d like for her to attend. Supper will be ready in an hour.” The boys started off, only to be called back. “After you’ve invited her, go find Jug and tell him to come too.”
Neither of the boys moved. Then Stu said, “H-h-he w-w-w-won’t be coming, m-m-ma’am.”
“Why not?”
“H-h-he’s l-l-l-layin on the b-b-b-board walk…dead drunk.”
With tight lips and hands on her hips, Mrs. Douglas gave a command. “You boys go get him anyway. Drag him here if you have to, but I want him in this camp within twenty minutes. And forget what I said about inviting Mrs. Kaiser to the party. We won’t be having one.”
Mrs. Douglas turned to her daughter. “The celebration is off, Liz. Build up the fire and put on a full pot of water. When it boils, dump in a double measure of coffee.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was getting gray in the eastern sky when Jug finished off a second pot of double-strength coffee. He had not slept all night, and neither had Mrs. Douglas. She had sat with Jug, keeping his cup full and making sure he stayed awake.
“Mrs. Douglas,” Jug said in a sheepish voice. “I’ve drunk all the coffee I can stand. Please, may I go lie down? I’m completely sober.”
“You don’t have to drink more coffee, but you can’t sleep—we have work to do.”
“But, Mrs. Douglas, I feel terrible. I have a bad headache, and my stomach feels like I could throw up any minute. Can’t I take a short nap? I’ll be fine afterward.”
“It’s your own fault you have a hangover and feel this way. I don’t have any sympathy for you. Anyone who drinks themselves into a stupor like you did yesterday afternoon should feel terrible.”
“I was only celebrating the ranch deal. Wasn’t it a great idea I had, Mrs. Douglas? I know you’ll be happy once you get settled.”
“Don’t try to soften me up, Jug. I know what you’re trying to do. Now get down to the stream and wash up. I’ll have breakfast ready when you return, and then we’ll get to work.”
Douglas had observed the entire dialogue between Jug and his wife. He smiled as he watched Jug leave and then whispered to himself, “You don’t have a chance, Jug. Once Alice Douglas sets her mind on something, she doesn’t give up until the task is finished, and she has her mind set on keeping you sober. No, sir, you don’t have a chance.”
The Douglas camp was coming to life with folks sitting around the fire eating breakfast and drinking coffee. Jug sat by himself at the outer edge of the firelight. “Why don’t you join us, Jug?” Douglas asked. “The pancakes are delicious, and coffee clears the
cobwebs.” Douglas winked at his wife. She returned the gesture with a smile.
“Mr. Douglas, my stomach is churning, if I attempted to eat anything, I’d lose it all. As far as coffee goes, I don’t care if I ever have another cup.”
Douglas laid out the day’s agenda. Bart and Stu would ride out to the Vincent place with him and start the renovation process. Liz, Alice, and Jug would help Mrs. Kaiser get settled into Jenny’s place and deliver her rig to the Vincent’s.
Jug looked miserable but came to a sloppy attention when Mrs. Douglas walked up to him and asked, “What’s your name?”
“You know what it is, ma’am, my name is Jug.”
“I’ll not refer to you as Jug any longer. It’s not fit. Now, what’s your Christian name? The name your mother gave you?”
“My name is… is Tom Albright, ma’am,” Jug said in an uncomfortable tone.
“Is it Tom or Thomas?”
“It’s Thomas, Mrs. Douglas.”
“That’s a good name, Thomas. Now let’s get to work.” As she turned, she saw Stu sneaking around the wagon. “Come back here, young man,” she called in a firm voice.
Stu stood before Mrs. Douglas, and without waiting for her to ask his name, he said, “M-m-m-my real n-n-n-name is J-J-J-Jacob B-B-Barns, b-b-b-but Ma c-c-called me J-J-J-Jake.”
As Mrs. Douglas looked into Stu’s sad, dark brown eyes, she asked, “What would you like to be called?” Stu thought for several seconds before answering. “I-I-I’d l-l-l-like to an-an-an-answer to what-what-what my ma cal-cal-called me, M-M-M-Mrs. Douglas, if-if-if that-that-that’s al-al-all right w-w-with you?”
“I think it’s an excellent choice. From now on, you’ll answer to Jake Barns.” Jake smiled and thanked her. Mrs. Douglas asked him about his parents. What happened to them and who was taking care of him now?
It took several minutes for Jake to tell his story. He said his ma and pa came to Flat Peaks twelve years ago, two years before he was born. His father left when he was four, never to be heard from again, according to his ma. After he left, his ma had to work hard at odd jobs around town, earning a modest amount of money. Their livelihood mostly came from handouts from town folks. Their house had been sold, and they lived in a shack at the south end of town. His mother died three years ago from colic, according to the town folks, but Jake thought it was mostly from heartbreak—he thought she had given up on life. Since her death, Eli had more or less taken him in. Letting him sleep in the hayloft or by the livery’s pot-bellied stove in the winter. Stu got food from a few people around town, but his big meal each day came from Jenny’s Place. Every night, after hours, he’d go to her back door and receive the daily leftovers.
»»•««
It was midmorning when Mr. Douglas and the two boys came to the Indian trail. They stepped down and looked at the tracks. Some prints lay on top of the wagon tracks made by the Douglas wagon, but their main concern was tracks that appeared to have been made by several horses within the last hour. They mounted back up, Bart on Maude, Douglas and Jake on draft horses. “We need to be very alert,” Douglas said. “The Indians could be watching our every move and planning an attack. If they do, head for town as fast as you can. Don’t wait on me. I’ll be along. Bart, is your rifle loaded?”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
When they arrived at the homestead, Mr. Douglas outlined the day’s chores. First, they would repair the corral for the animals and then start cutting winter hay for the livestock. He calculated the hay needs for four horses, two cows, and a mule would be substantial.
During their last trip, Douglas had noticed several tools in the barn, so the three went to investigate. Among the tools were two shovels and several coils of wire that could be used to repair the corral. There were two hand scythes for cutting hay.
The corral was quickly put back in shape, and their horses placed securely within. Mr. Douglas demonstrated to the boys how to use a scythe. He took long steady pulls in a slight circle from right to left with the blade close to the ground. He said the cuttings would be left in the field for a few days to dry and then taken to the barn. The boys mastered the hay cutting technique within minutes, and then the three took alternating turns with the scythe while the idle person kept watch for Indians.
It was after dark when they returned to Flat Peaks. The boys were worn out with aching arms and shoulders, but they managed to help Mr. Douglas hobble their horses before going to the wagon. Douglas noticed a worried look on Alice’s face when she handed him coffee and a plate of food.
“Did you have a busy day and get everything done? I see Mrs. Kaiser’s rig is gone,” he said.
“Yes, I believe we finished everything,” she said. “Thomas drove Mrs. Kaiser’s rig behind Jenny’s restaurant and unloaded most of her things in Jenny’s barn. The bed and her personal things were taken on to the house.”
Liz butted in, “Thomas let me drive the empty wagon to the Vincent place in town, Papa. It was lots of fun.”
“Are you feeling better, Jug…I mean, Thomas?” asked Douglas.
“Yes, sir, I feel a lot better. Haven’t had a drink all day but can’t say I’m not craving one right now. Your Missus has kept an eye on me all day, keeping me busy most of the time.” Everyone laughed except Mrs. Douglas, who only smiled.
“How was your day, Mr. Douglas? Did you have any trouble?” Thomas asked in return.
“W-w-we saw f-f-f-fresh tracks on-on-on the Indian t-t-t-trail,” stammered out Jake, who shouldn’t have mentioned the Indians in front of the ladies.
Douglas smoothed out the situation as much as he could by saying no actual Indians were seen. He then gave a detailed outline of their day’s accomplishments.
Later, after dishes were put away, Thomas said, “Vincent borrowed some coops from the livery today, so he can have his chickens and stock ready whenever we want them.”
“When do you think we’ll be ready, Thomas?” Douglas asked.
“I told him we’d take everything off his hands within three days.” A little time passed before Thomas continued. “He offered you his buggy and two saddles for twenty dollars and said he wouldn’t need them. I think he gave you a good deal because of what Bart offered for his stock. I told him you’d come by with the money.”
“Thanks, Thomas. We really appreciate all you’ve done, and while I’m handing out thanks, I’d like to shake your hand and tell you how grateful we are to you for getting us our ranch. It wouldn’t have happened without you.”
They shook hands, and Thomas said, “Mr. Douglas, for the last eight years, people in these parts have treated me like a mangy, stray dog and that’s about all I deserved. Then you and your family came along and treated me good, like a fellow human being. I don’t have words to tell you how it makes me feel. For the first time in years, I believe I can be useful and become like other men again, leading a productive life. It’s a blessing you’ve given me.” He tried to continue but was unable to speak.
The sky was full of stars and bright moonbeams reflected off the snow-capped mountains in the far distance. A breeze had come up, accenting the chill of the night air, making people anticipate their warm beds.
“What time will you be heading out in the morning, Mr. Douglas?” Thomas asked.
“We’ll leave at first light. And, Thomas, friends should call one another by their first names. Call me Herb.”
“I’ll be going with you, Mr. Douglas—I mean, Herb.”
Douglas simply smiled and gave a favorable nod.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The sound of hooves splashing in the stream woke Douglas, and although the day wouldn’t start for another hour, he slipped from his blankets and dressed. Walking in the direction of the sound, he saw Thomas leading the Vincent horse with two saddles aboard, one on top of the other.
“It’s awfully early, Thomas. Don’t you think we ought to have breakfast and wait for the sun to rise before we head out?”
“Can’t wait to get started, Herb.
I woke up nearly an hour ago, bright eyed and as excited as a kid in a candy store. I figured you could ride the Vincent mare, so I fetched her a few minutes ago. Her name’s Star because of the marking on her face. Stu—I mean Jake—can ride one of the draft horses and I’ll ride the black stallion.” It went without saying Bart would ride Maude. The men heard a noise by the creek and turned to see Mrs. Douglas dipping water into the coffee pot. By the time they reached the wagon a few minutes later, the fire had been kindled and coffee water was on, but Mrs. Douglas was nowhere to be seen.
“We’ll let the boys sleep another thirty minutes,” suggested Douglas. “They were worn out from the hay cutting yesterday.”
“Thomas, are you sure you can ride that stallion? He looks mighty spirited. I doubt if he’s ever been ridden by a white man.”
“He’ll be a handful, all right, but the chief rode him, so he’s been broke. I imagine he’ll try to buck me off, but hopefully, he’ll settle down after a while. I think I can stay aboard.”
After breakfast, Liz and her mother watched the four men examine the horses’ feet before saddling Star and the black. After everyone mounted, the men waved goodbye and headed off to the ranch for a second day of hay cutting.
“Why can’t we go along, Mama? There’s work to be done, and we could help.”
“Your father says it’s too dangerous. His mind needs to be on work and not on protecting us.”
“But we went the other day, and the Indians didn’t bother us.”
“We’ll abide with what your father says, Liz.”
The black danced around a little when Thomas mounted, even bucked some as they moved off, but he easily kept his seat. Thomas seemed years younger on a horse. They rode in pairs with little conversation for the next three hours, thinking of the work to be done and the danger that might lie ahead. They didn’t stop at the Indian trace, but everyone noticed the fresh prints from several unshod horses. They rode with caution and were observant of all possible hiding places.
