by Jim Cox
Her stare continued for a full minute before she turned to cut more bacon. Then she picked up the coffee pot and was filling Scar’s cup when she said, “Soldiers killed my husband. I went to the battleground and found the body to bury.” Morning Sun returned the coffee pot to the fire and turned back to Scar. “My people traveled to the winter place. I did not catch up. We had no buffalo robe. We found the cave.”
Scar was about to ask another question when Thomas and Jake opened the kitchen door. “What’s for breakfast, Morning Sun?” Jake asked. “I’m starved.”
While Jake and Thomas sat down, Morning Sun put platters of eggs, potatoes, bacon, and biscuits on the table. Coffee was being poured when Mr. and Mrs. Douglas entered the room and took their seats. Douglas was saying the blessing when Little Eagle and Little Turtle slipped through the door.
After breakfast, everyone left to start their day’s work, except Scar and Morning Sun. He was still nursing a cup of coffee. Morning Sun filled a dishpan that was sitting on the counter with hot water and started gathering dishes. She had placed her first washed plate on a towel lying by the dishpan when Scar rose, picked up a dish towel, and reached for the plate to dry. But Morning Sun quickly grabbed the towel and said with a commanding tone, “This my job. Not a man’s work. It is not work for Scarred Warrior.” Her eyes were frozen on Scar.
“I don’t have anything to do, Morning Sun, and I’d feel honored to be able to help you with your work.”
She looked puzzled. “Do you always do the cooking and wash the dishes by yourself?” he asked.
Morning Sun shook her head and said, “Little Turtle and Little Eagle help me.”
“Why didn’t they help you today?”
She grinned. “They fear the Scarred Warrior. They do not want in the same room.”
Scar reached for the dish towel and with some reluctance, Morning Sun released it. Both were silent.
After the dishes were done and the kitchen put back in order, Scar poured another cup of coffee and went to the porch where he sat down in a rocker. He was sipping coffee and thinking about what the future held for the Indian woman and her children when the door opened and she stepped out.
“I will teach the Scarred Warrior my way and tongue.” She turned and went back to the kitchen.
When Scar had finished his coffee, he walked around the house and grounds, observing the many improvements. Several beds of fall flowers had been planted around the house and were now in bloom. He noticed most of the garden had been harvested, but late summer and fall items were still to be dug. The house was much larger than Scar had anticipated and was very picturesque against the massive rock cliff in the background. The ground floor consisted of a living room, library, an office, and kitchen with all the conveniences. A wide staircase led to the four bedrooms upstairs. A covered stone oven had been constructed outside the kitchen. But the most impressive feature was the sixteen-foot covered porch that ran the length of the house. It was an ideal place to sit in a rocking chair during the evening, drinking coffee and watching the long shadows turn to night.
Scar was in the mood to look at the ranch’s outlying area, so he ambled toward the corral and whistled for Maude. After saddling her, he mounted and went to the corral rails to view the stock. Frankie was starting to fill out. Star had a newborn colt beside her and Star Light, who was now fully grown, was heavy with a foal.
Scar went to the barn and found a loft full of hay. The punching bag was still hanging in the equipment room, which enticed him to take a few swings. But he could feel pain and constriction in his shoulder and chest, so he stopped and left the barn.
As Scar rode past the barn on his way to the storage cave, he saw several cords of wood neatly stacked by the bunkhouse. The area around the cave was the same. The picnic table and benches he had built for Liz were still in place. Memories brought back her kiss. He dismounted and walked inside the cave. Its shelves were full of garden items, and four beef halves hung against the back wall.
He kneeled at the pool and took several swallows of cold water before mounting and riding to the horseshoe-shaped holding pasture. He was surprised to find several mares in its confines along with Black, who was standing against the back rock ledge observing the intruder.
As Scar rode back to the house, he thought how wonderful the homestead of the Double D ranch had become. It offered a wonderful life. A life he wanted but could never achieve. He didn’t have the money.
As people were sitting down for supper that night, Jake spoke up, “I was on the south range this afternoon, checking on water holes, when I ran into a couple of wranglers from the James outfit. They were in town yesterday and talked with the sheriff. He said the Abernathy brothers had robbed a bank in a town north of here and had gotten away. There’s been a five-hundred-dollar reward posted for them. He said they’ll spend at least twenty years in territorial prison if they’re caught.”
“It’ll serve them right,” interjected Thomas. “Thugs like them need to be kept away from decent folks.” Scar made no comment.
After supper, they all sat on the porch, holding cups, enjoying the cool evening breeze. It was a lovely evening but one of very little conversation. Scar’s mind seemed to be in other places. Folks knew something was bothering him, but no one pushed the issue. Cups were refilled.
“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he said rather flatly.
After a minute or two, Mr. Douglas asked, “Where are you headed, Bart?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe back to Chicago to see if I can get my old job back.”
“You’ll sure be missed around here,” interjected Jake.
Talk of the upcoming roundup was discussed, and a bit of small talk was exchanged before Mrs. Douglas went inside and called for Scar.
“Sit down, Bart. I want to talk with you.” They sat at the kitchen table holding their coffee cups. “I know why you’re leaving,” she said. “And, it’s not because you want to find work elsewhere, but because you’re trying to help Liz marry up and find a better life. Isn’t that right?”
His answer was slow in coming. “I suppose you’re right. I only want what’s best for her, Mrs. Douglas.”
“You’re looking at this whole thing wrong, Bart. She loves you and wants to be at your side for the rest of her life.”
Just then, Douglas entered the room to join them, but he encouraged his wife to continue her concerns.
“Please believe me, Bart. Liz has no interest in finding a husband that can shower her with material gifts and a lifestyle of luxury. She wants to walk beside her man reaching for common goals and dreams. She wants to face and solve difficulties as a partner and share in the pleasures life brings. She’s willing to do back-breaking work if that’s what it takes. She wants to build something, Bart, and she wants to do it with you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He only nodded.
“You broke her heart, Bart. She has cried herself to sleep every night since you rejected her. She is devastated.”
“I love her with all my heart, Mrs. Douglas, but I have nothing to offer her. I have a thousand dollars saved, but what would we live on after that’s gone? I don’t even have a job.”
Mr. Douglas leaned forward and said, “How about the job the governor offered? It’s a start.”
“It’s kind of a hit-and-miss job. The deputy’s job could be eliminated if the political scene changes. Besides, it’s dangerous. I could be shot or killed at any time. I don’t want Liz to go through something like that.”
Several minutes of silence passed before Douglas spoke. “I once had a very intelligent young man tell me if you evaluated all the options to a problem, and then chose the best one, almost anything was possible.”
“That’s what my pa always told me. And Captain Willard told me the same thing.”
“Do you believe them?” asked Mr. Douglas.
Scar was jiggling his coffee cup when he answered. “Yes, sir, I do.”
The room became sile
nt except for the clicks of his cup.
He sat with a lowered head, deep in thought. Occasionally, Alice and Herb’s eyes met with an expression of what should we do?
All of a sudden, Scar jumped up and said, “I’m going to Flat Peaks!”
“Can’t you wait until morning? It’s after ten o’clock, and you won’t get there until after midnight,” said a surprised Mrs. Douglas.
“No, ma’am, I can’t wait. I’ve got to see Liz!” Scar had already reached the kitchen door when he called back with a smile. “I couldn’t sleep anyway till I talk to her.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was a beautiful September day. The sky was deep blue except for white, feathery clouds slowly moving eastward. The distant mountains were already capped with snow, and the sun reflected from the pine and birch trees filling the slopes. A slight breeze made the temperature almost perfect. The town’s creek flowed with glistening water.
Captain Willard arrived at the livery as Eli was putting the last touches on his polished boots. They sat drinking coffee for twenty minutes or so before the captain excused himself. “I’m going to Jenny’s Place, Eli, I’ll see you this afternoon.” But when he arrived at the cafe, the door was shut, and a sign hung on its facing. CLOSED FOR THE DAY. He was puzzled because he had never seen or heard of Jenny’s Place being closed during the day, but then he smiled; he knew the reason.
Eli knew it was time to leave when he saw buggies filled with folks dressed in their Sunday best heading for the church. The church was full when he entered, but Thomas had saved him a seat and motioned him over.
Minutes later, a young woman took a step through the church door and stopped. Her smile caught everyone’s eyes as they turned and gazed at the beautiful bride. Many had tears. She was wearing a plain white ankle-length cotton dress of pioneer style. Her light red hair was piled high and covered with a long white crocheted scarf that fell to her shoulders. Her mother had made both the dress and scarf. A rawhide necklace with three pieces of elk antlers hung from her neck. Her green eyes glistened.
Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were seated in the front row looking proudly at their daughter standing in the doorway; both had tears.
The preacher rose and signaled for the procession to start, and the piano sounded. A man in a black suit and string tie took his position beside the bride. When she took his arm, they walked slowly down the aisle and stopped in front of the parson, placing their right hands on a water-stained Bible.
The parson asked, “Do you Eliza Ann Douglas take this man, Azro Bartholomew Carter?”
The End
About the Author
Jim was born and raised in SE Missouri, graduated with a B.S. degree from Purdue University, and has lived most of his adult life with his wife, Wilma, in Indiana. Telling stories to his young family members has always been a treasure and resulted in him being asked to write them down for future generations. Jim accepted the challenge and started writing his books after retirement. His writings promote living an exciting good life with high morals as his vocal tales have always conveyed.
If you enjoyed this book, this author has other works available here:
Author's Web Site
Other Books by this Author:
Esther
Riding from Memories
Grandad's Stories
Rusty Crooked Nails
Scar Series:
A Man Called Scar
Scar and the Double D Ranch
And now, a sneak peek at the sequel to this story, Scar and the Double D Ranch.
Chapter One
The big stranger sat a few yards inside the tree line on a high, straight-up rock cliff, watching the last glimmer of the evening sun. Its rays colored the pillow-like clouds floating overhead in all shades of red and pink, creating a picturesque setting. Not far behind the man were a mountain stream and a small clearing where his mule, Maude, was busy eating sprigs of grass. She was reddish-brown, stood over five-and-a-half feet at the withers, which was extremely tall for a mule, and suitable for a man the stranger’s size. The mule had been his mount for years, but more than that, she had been his companion through all sorts of trouble. In fact, their affection for one another was so strong the man didn’t bother to restrict her in any way. She wandered off as she pleased but always responded to his whistle.
It had been several minutes since the riders he was observing left the valley below, so he felt at ease to build a fire to prepare his evening meal and heat water. The man knew smoke could be seen for miles, even during nighttime, so he located an ideal place under a cluster of pine trees which would dissipate it. Close by was a large flat rock, just the right height for sitting.
After the fire was burning, he went to the stream for coffee water. Maude moseyed over to have her head scratched and then went back to the grass. While at the stream, the man laid his hat on a rock, removed his bandanna, and washed his face and neck. Afterward, as he lay on his chest with his head over the water to get a drink, a mirror image of his face came into view. He spent a few seconds observing the reflection. Dark sun-tanned skin, blue eyes, thick coal black hair, and a beard and mustache that matched his hair. His eyes went to the massive scar on his left cheek. It started at his ear, crossed his cheek, barely missing his eye, and then angled back down to his jawbone. The scar was nine inches long and nearly an inch wide, and even though he left the whiskers long around the scar, it was still very noticeable.
Scar, as he was known because of his marked face, sat on the rock by the fire drinking coffee and cooking bacon on a forked stick hanging over the fire. Drops of liquid fat occasionally fell, causing rising puffs of black smoke to filter through the overhead pine needles. After eating three bacon and biscuit sandwiches, he sat back and enjoyed another cup of coffee. In the high, mid-November altitude, the mountain breeze cooled things off considerably. Scar relaxed and enjoyed the warmth the coffee gave him. After finishing, he went to his saddle, untied his sheepskin coat, and put it on. He moved his saddle, carpet bag, and saddle bag behind a large boulder, out of sight of any passersby. He removed his sleeping roll and ground tarp and spread them, so his saddle could be used for a pillow. He went back to his sitting rock and poured another cup.
It was well after sunset, but the moon hadn’t come out yet, so the mountain was in inky darkness. Small flickering flames kept the pot hot as it sat on a flat rock at the fire’s edge. Occasionally Scar would add a stick or two and then sit back, holding his cup, as he thought about home in Flat Peaks. Flat Peaks was a small cow town in north central Colorado. It was twelve miles south of a high-up mountain ridge, with some peaks exceeding twelve thousand feet. His home-away-from-home was the Double D Ranch which lay at the foot of the mountain ridge. It was a four-thousand-acre cow ranch owned by his wife’s parents, Alice and Herb Douglas.
Scar had been on this assignment for ten days and was missing his friends and family at the Double D, but mostly, he was missing his wife, Liz. They had married two months ago on September 17, 1876. Scar had been reluctant to leave his bride but felt obligated to the newly appointed Colorado governor, John Long Routt, who had offered him a lawman’s job a month before he married.
Scar was on a last-minute assignment. He had originally intended to oversee the U.S. election in and around Flat Peaks, but days before the event, he received a telegram from the governor saying the United States Congress had passed legislation canceling the election in Colorado and mandated the state’s legislature to fill positions at their own discretion. The mandate included the governorship and Colorado’s three presidential electoral votes. It said the reason for the departure was because of the short duration of Colorado’s statehood. It had only been three months since Colorado became the country’s thirty-eighth state, with statehood occurring on August 1, 1876, so there hadn’t been enough time to get matters organized and the funding secured for a reliable election.
Instead of overseeing the polls, Scar found himself on a last-minute assignment to investig
ate cattle rustling from ranches around Pinneo, a small cow town near the Fremont Butte in the northwest corner of Colorado. It was a little over a hundred miles from his home in Flat Peaks.
During his time in the area, Scar had stayed away from town, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He knew a six-foot-four-inch stranger weighing two-hundred thirty-five pounds and riding a flop-eared mule would certainly draw suspicion. Consequently, he’d spent his days and nights on high up plateaus around the spreads reporting thievery. His surveillance had answered many of the original unknown questions, narrowing his list of suspects to three. Scar’s present campsite allowed him to see for miles down the valley toward many of the ranches. It was a good place to see cattle being driven, even rustled cattle. If the stolen cows could be found, Scar was sure he could solve the case within a day or two.
Scar’s reminiscing was interrupted by an elk bugle from the north. Seconds later, a bugle from the east sounded. He started to add more fuel to the fire but decided to turn in. He wanted to be up by morning gray for a quick breakfast and be positioned in his lookout stand before any activity occurred in the valley. He banked the fire with three slow-burning limbs, picked up his rifle, whistled for Maude, and walked to his bedroll. By the time his hat, shirt, boots, and guns were removed and stored under a protective cover, Maude ambled up. She was his watchdog of the night. It was dark, but the stars and the light from the half-moon were enough to make out silhouettes.
He lay with his hands under his head, thinking about the days ahead. If he were lucky, he could find the stolen cows and figure out who was doing the rustling within a day or two. He listened for night sounds—nothing out of the ordinary. He watched Maude lie down, resting on folded legs. Her relaxed ears meant no unwanted critters were in the area. Scar felt rather small as he took in a sky full of stars, sparkling in the clear Colorado night. The treetops were swaying, and an occasional cloud floated eastward. He turned to his side.
