Scar and the Double D Ranch

by Jim Cox

  “I’ll catch up with you women at Jenny’s Place in a few minutes,” Mr. Douglas said, climbing back into the buggy. “I wanna see if we have a letter from Thomas. He’s been gone for nearly two weeks, and we should be hearing from him. See if Jake and Bart want to join us at Jenny’s on your way. Order me Jenny’s special.”

  Sometime later at the café, after everyone had finished eating, Mr. Douglas said, “There was a letter from Thomas on the morning stage. Let me read it to you.”

  Mrs. Kaiser had cleared the table and was pouring second cups when the sheriff entered and hurried toward Scar. “Where’ve you been, Scar? I’ve been looking all over for ya. We need to talk.”

  “Have a seat, Sheriff. Mr. Douglas is gonna read us a letter that came in this morning from Thomas. We’ll get to whatever’s got you all riled up afterward.” Mr. Douglas took the envelope from his vest inside pocket, removed the letter, and started reading.

  November 8, 1878

  Hello to my Double D family,

  I arrived in Baltimore 3 days ago. I was travel weary and sore when I got here, but the train is a much better way to travel than stagecoach. I rested up for a day when I arrived and then started my hunt.

  My first stop was Virginia’s ma and pa’s home. I found out her folks had been dead for several years and the new owners didn’t know anything about Virginia.

  My next stop was my old law office. The building had been long gone and replaced with a hat factory that is now out of business.

  I’ve checked around to a few other places but found no leads. It seems like my family has vanished or maybe they never returned to Baltimore in the first place.

  I will write more in a week or so. Sooner if I find Virginia or the kids. Tell everyone I said hello.

  Thomas

  Mr. Douglas put the letter back into the envelope and returned it to his vest pocket. His face looked troubled. After a long pause, he said, “It doesn’t sound like Thomas is having much luck. I hope he doesn’t get discouraged.”

  Alice Douglas reached for her husband’s hand. “He’s only started, Herb. He’ll find some leads directing him to something. Everything has changed in Baltimore since he was there. It had been twenty-three years you know. Once he gets the lay of the land, he’ll make some progress.” Herb nodded and squeezed his wife’s hand. During the minute or two Mrs. Douglas was consoling her husband, thoughts of Thomas circled their minds.

  Mrs. Kaiser, who had remained at the table listening to the letter being read, went for a pot of hot coffee. When she returned and was filling cups, Scar said, “What’s on your mind, Sheriff? What’s got you so jumpy?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s got me so jumpy. The tracks being laid are only ten miles east of town. They’ll be close to Flat Peaks by next weekend. The rail workers will be hankering for some fun and will more than likely tear up our town, if they act like they have in towns they’ve been through in the past.” The sheriff paused and took another swallow of coffee. “What’s got me concerned is that our town doesn’t have a plan to keep the ruckus to a minimum.” Everyone at the table turned quiet.

  A few seconds later, the sheriff said, “I suppose I could make ’em check in their guns when they enter town.”

  “What good would that do?” Jake countered. “I doubt they’d give up their guns in the first place, but even if they did, they’d probably still tear things up with their bare hands. That’s what they did to me, Sheriff.”

  “We could all leave town for the weekend. Let ’em do whatever they want,” Betty suggested. “No one would get hurt, and we can always rebuild.” Heads shook in disagreement.

  “What if the town board met with them when they entered town and outlined the town’s rules and ordinances?” Mrs. Douglas asked. “Would that help?”

  “They wouldn’t even stop to listen,” the sheriff said, shaking his head.

  Everyone at the table turned silent for a couple of minutes. “How many men do you think will be coming, Sheriff?” Douglas asked.

  “I’m not for sure, but I’d say between three and five hundred,” Douglas said. “There’s no way to stop ’em from coming that I can think of. They’re big, burly men who have been lifting rails for months. They’re strong as an ox.”

  “Maybe the town’s men could split up at the various places of business and try to keep ’em in line,” someone called out.

  “You’d better put ’em all in the tavern. That’s where the trouble will be,” Mrs. Kaiser countered. “If you can keep ’em in line there, maybe the trouble won’t spill out into town.”

  Silence gripped the table again.

  Jenny spoke up. “Everyone’s thinking they’re all some kind of terrible, brutal men…men with no morals or sense of what’s right and wrong. They’re probably normal men with families somewhere who have worked long hard days with nothing to look forward to, other than coming to town and having some fun. I’m sure there are a few scoundrels among the lot, but if they can be handled, maybe the rest will be okay.” Her words were realistic and caused the people around the table to take a different slant on the matter. Jenny continued, “What if we invited them to a big shindig, especially given for them…a celebration of appreciation for all the hard work they’re doing, bringing the railroad to Flat Peaks. The town’s men could roast a couple of beefs, and the women could bring dishes of food, especially pies. I doubt if they’ve had a good piece of pie for weeks.”

  “You’re right, Jenny. A celebration would be a great way to calm the workers. It’s a great idea.” Liz said enthusiastically. Everyone at the table was nodding their heads in agreement.

  “I could print up some flyers and post ‘em around town,” Jake offered with enthusiasm.

  “Then it’s settled,” the sheriff said. “We’ll be having a celebration for the railroad men next Saturday. Tomorrow I’ll ride out and talk with the rail foreman. He can spread the word.”

  “Why don’t you let me go, Sheriff?” Scar asked. “Since I work for the governor, they might think I could cause some kind of disciplinary action on them if they misbehave.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Why not? They’ve probably heard about you and don’t want a confrontation.”

  Scar was in Betty’s kitchen the next morning fixing coffee when Liz walked in. “Why are you up so early, sweetheart?” he asked. “I was going to let you sleep in until I left for the railroad camp.”

  “I’m going with you. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes. You can saddle Molly for me if you want.”

  “What do you mean, you’re going with me? They’re a rough bunch of men. I don’t want you going.”

  “Western men won’t hurt a woman, Bart, and you know it. Besides, seeing a woman along will improve the chances of our invitation being taken at face value.”

  The big man knew there was no use to argue, so he patronized her. “Besides, men like to look at women, especially pretty ones like you, sweetheart. Don’t you agree?” She only smiled. “When you get ready, we’ll get a bite to eat at Jenny’s.”

  By mid-morning, Scar and Liz reached the rail camp and stopped in disbelief at the sight. Hundreds of men were separated into teams, working in unison at various jobs. The front team was leveling the ground, followed by another team setting the rail ties, and then the rails were placed. After the rails were adjusted to the exact spread, a team of spike drivers did their jobs. Five men on horseback, who were obviously supervisors, rode up and down the work site, making sure the tracks were laid properly and there was no slacking off.

  When Scar and Liz rode up the track line to one of the supervisors, all work stopped as the men eyed the beautiful woman on horseback and the big man on a floppy-eared mule.

  “I ain’t able to make that call,” was the supervisor’s response to Scar’s request. “You’ll have to talk with the boss. He’s up yonder in that there covered wagon on the hill,” the man said pointing to the wagon. Eyes watched the strangers as they rode up the hill.

  “I’m grateful
for the invitation,” the boss man said with a smile and an extended hand. “The men can use an occasion like this to relax. It’ll make them feel appreciated. Most towns try to push us aside and treat the men like they’re some sort of renegades.”

  “What time should we have the food ready?” Liz asked.

  “We’ll be coming through Flat Peaks by Saturday, or at least within a mile of the town. The men normally work twelve to fourteen hours every day of the week, including Sundays, but I’ll break the rules and let ’em off Saturday afternoon. Don’t be expecting a bunch of slicked-up men though. Most of the crew only have the clothes on their backs and seldom have a chance to wash up.”

  Scar interjected, “It sounds the same to me as men on cattle drives.”

  The boss man nodded. “I imagine they’ll start showing up by one o’clock, maybe a little later.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Scar said, reaching for the boss’ hand.

  As they were leaving, the boss called them back. “Don’t worry about my boys tearing up your town. I’ll assign eight or ten men to be watchdogs. We’ll police our own.” Scar thanked him with a nod. “And ma’am, thanks for coming along today. It’s been a long time since the men have seen a woman, especially one as pretty as you.” Liz smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Times were now rather tranquil at the Double D. Winter had set in, leaving behind the fall months that had included a great deal of excitement. The railroad celebration had been a great success—there had been no harm to the town’s citizens or property, and the tracks were now twenty miles west of Flat Peaks. The town, especially the sheriff, was relieved at the party’s outcome. The two new enterprises in Flat Peaks had been well accepted by the town and outlying ranch folks. Both business owners were staying busy. Of course, the ranch was on pins and needles with Thomas’ trip to find his family.

  The ranch’s traditional Thanksgiving gathering was well attended and had gone off without a hitch, with many people asking about Thomas. Folks had heard rumors from Thomas’ original letter but wanted to know of any later happenings; however, the Double D folks could offer no additional information, hoping no news was good news. They still worried.

  Prompted by their guests’ concern over Thomas, Douglas brought up the matter that evening with his wife as they were getting ready for bed. “I hope Thomas is doing okay and hasn’t backslid to the bottle,” he said.

  “Why would you have a thought like that, Herb?”

  “He’s a drunkard, Alice. He’s been sober for three years with us, but he still craves the bottle. If he gets depressed, he’ll be tempted to take a drink, and if he does, he won’t be able to stop. If you recall, he’d been drunk every day for ten years when you got hold of him. It’s a miracle you got him straightened out. He’s enjoyed a new life these past few years.”

  “I didn’t straighten him out, Herb,” she said gazing into his eyes. “All I did was sit with him at nights for a couple of weeks.”

  “You did more than that, sweetheart. You encouraged him to take care of himself, and you kept him busy. Your advice must have been a strong influence on him, too.”

  “I didn’t give him any advice at all, Herb. All I did for those two weeks was to read with him from the Bible. God did all the influencing.” Douglas looked at his wife with admiration as she remarked, “He’ll be all right, Herb. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  By mid-December there had been several snow days but also warm, sunny days, which kept most of the snow melted. On one of these nice days, Liz and Scar decided to go to Flat Peaks. After all, it wouldn’t be long until the deep winter snow would be here to stay, keeping them on the ranch until spring.

  When they arrived in town, the first thing on their agenda was to check on the mail. Scar pulled the team up to the mercantile hitch rail. Since the road was a sloppy mess of horse manure and urine, he took Liz into his arms and carried her to the boardwalk. After looping the tie rope a couple times around the rail, they went inside to the postal area. The clerk wearing a white apron came hurrying from across the room. “Do we have any mail?” Scar asked, a bit of excitement in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Scar. I know you’re looking for a letter from Thomas, but there’s nothing from him.” Scar frowned as he gave a nod.

  They were about to leave when he asked, “Has today’s stage come in yet?”

  “The stage doesn’t provide the mail service to Flat Peaks anymore, Scar. The train took over two weeks ago. Some of the small towns off the beaten path still have stagecoach service.”

  “How’s the service since the train took over?” Scar asked. “I imagine mail gets here much faster these days.”

  “You’d think so, but it doesn’t. It’s been a mess. Ever since the train replaced the stage in Denver a month ago, the service has been terrible. A good share of the time mail gets here in two or three days from Denver, but you can’t count on it. Some of the mail has a month old postmark when it gets to Flat Peaks. You never know these days.”

  Scar asked again, “Has the mail been delivered yet?”

  “Not yet. The westbound normally comes through around noon. It carries the mail from the east.”

  “I’ll either be at the newspaper or Jenny’s around that time,” Scar said. “If we get anything, could you get word to me?” The clerk smiled and gave his nod.

  Scar and Liz went outside and stood on the boardwalk, looking disappointed.

  “I sure thought we’d have a letter from Thomas this morning, Liz. He’s been gone for six weeks.”

  “I thought so too, but maybe his letters are lost in the mail system. You heard what the clerk said.”

  Several seconds went by before Scar spoke. “I’d like to stop at Jake’s, Liz, but first I wanna go visit Eli. Why don’t we all meet at the café at noon?”

  “Can you drop me off at Betty’s?” Liz asked. “It’s two hours until noon. Maybe I can be of some help to her before we eat.” Scar swung Liz into his arms and returned her to the buggy seat.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said, as her husband pulled back on the horse's reins.

  “What’s with the buggy, Scar? Where’s Maude?” Eli asked when the team drove up to the livery and the big man stepped down.

  “Liz came to town with me, Eli. She wanted to see how Betty was getting along with her shop and get a few things at the mercantile.” Scar paused. “I wanted to see if a letter had come in from Thomas, but there’s no word.”

  “Let’s go inside by the stove,” Eli said. “It ain’t winter yet, but a little heat still feels good. I’ve got a fresh pot on. Made it a few minutes ago.” The men went inside, poured coffee, and pulled their chairs closer to the heat.

  “I’m worried about Thomas, Eli. It’s not like him to leave us in the dark. If we don’t hear something soon, I’ve a notion to go looking for him.”

  “Give him time. He may be on a trail and doesn’t have time to write.”

  “I hope you’re right, Eli.” Both men picked up cups of steaming coffee. After a couple of swallows, Scar said, “Wouldn’t it be great if Thomas found his wife and kids and brought ’em back?”

  “It’d be nice,” Eli responded, “but it’ll take a miracle for it to happen. Those kids aren’t little children anymore. They’re mostly grown up and will probably want to stay put.”

  Three cups of coffee had been finished off when Scar pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s eleven thirty, Eli, and I haven’t been to Jake’s yet. I’d better get going. I’m supposed to meet Liz at noon.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by, Scar. It’s always a pleasure talking with you.”

  Jake was setting type when Scar entered the newspaper office.

  Jake greeted him warmly but declined his offer to help. “I’m all caught up on my work, except for setting this type. It’s something I need to do by myself.” Scar took a chair by the door.

  “We’re to meet Betty and Liz at Jenny’s Place at noon if you can spare the time.” The big man re
ached for last week’s paper. Minutes later, when Scar had reread most of the newspaper, Jake came from behind the counter, removed his apron, and the two headed off.

  By the time Scar and Jake got to the café, Liz and Betty were already eating at a back table and carrying on a conversation with Jenny. Sitting on the table in front of two empty chairs were two plates chock-full of steaming food. “We went ahead and ordered for you…knew you’d be hungry.” The women went back to their talking and occasionally took a bite. The men looked at each other and took a seat.

  Jenny had cleared the table and refilled their cups when the telegraph agent walked in. “Heard you were in town and figured you’d be eating this time of day. I’ve got a telegram for you, Scar. It’s from the governor.” Everyone went quiet as the agent handed the big man the dreaded brown envelope. They all imagined it contained orders for another dangerous assignment.

  The agent had started off when Scar called to him, “Do you know if the noon train has come through?”

  “Yes, sir. It stopped at the station about thirty minutes ago.”

  As Scar raised his cup for a swallow, his eyes connected with Liz’s. They looked troubled.

  As the buggy plodded homeward to the Double D, scattered snowflakes had begun to fall, but they went unnoticed by the couple. Finally, Liz spoke up. “Hand me the governor’s telegram, honey. We might as well get the suspense behind us and find out what he wants.” Scar took it from his inside vest pocket and handed it to his wife. She ripped open the envelope.

  December 17, 1878

  Washington is split on the Indian issue, and your help is needed. There is to be a three-day planning meeting in my office the third week of January. Dignitaries from Washington will be there soliciting our help to put all Indians on reservations. You’ll be sworn in as Director of Indian Affairs for the state of Colorado before they get here. Be here by Monday, January 17th.

  Governor John Long Routt