Father unto Many Sons
Page 22
Abel heard his mother and sat up in his bedding with a sleep-smeared face, blinking bleary eyes.
Lee was slower to wake, but rolled to his side and raised himself on an elbow. “What is it, Sarah?”
“The boys are gone—Richard and Melvin. Emma says the horses are gone.”
Stifling a yawn, Lee said, “I wouldn’t worry. They probably went into town drinking. Wouldn’t be the first time.” His next yawn could not be subdued.
“No. Their bedrolls are gone. Unless I miss my guess, their clothes won’t be here, either.”
Sarah’s opinion proved correct. Lee’s rifle and shot pouch were missing as well. Everything else seemed intact, likely because the boys did not want to awaken anyone by rustling around in the wagon or camp boxes.
Abel pulled on his boots and walked out to where the stock was picketed. The horses were gone for sure. He found where his brothers had led them a ways away and tied them to a tree. This must be where they saddled up, he thought. A faint trail through the grass showed where they rode wide of the wagons and joined the road to town. Abel followed their tracks into Las Vegas, but the closer he got to town the more other traffic obscured the trail. By the time he reached the plaza there was no way to tell where their tracks went among the muddle of prints left by other horses, mules, oxen, cattle, goats, sheep, pigs, dogs, carts, carriages, wagons, boots, shoes, and bare feet left through the night and morning and for days on end.
Back at camp, Abel found Ma and Pa and the Lewises numbed. He told them of the lost trail and that there was no way to know where to even begin looking. Sarah wept and Lee could barely speak for the tightness in his throat.
Daniel sat on the same box as last night when he served the cheese, the upturned box still standing before him. “What ho!” he said. “The cheese! My cheese is missing.” Despite the solemnity surrounding him, Daniel could not help but laugh out loud. “It appears your Melvin really did like that cheese!”
That jolted the women out of their languor and they all at once took up the preparation of breakfast. While Sarah and Mary fixed an over-large batch of fried bacon and corn dodgers to feed them this morning as well as on the day’s trail, Emma scrambled a batch of fresh eggs acquired in town, and hoped it would remind the hens in their cages of their jobs once settled. Another unaccustomed addition to the meal was sliced peaches from trees planted by Las Vegas’s first settlers and just beginning to bear. Jane milked the cow, leaving one teat for the calf. A supply of fresh corn and tomatoes and squash were also laid in to add variety to the meals in the coming days.
“Does this change your plans at all?” Daniel asked over breakfast.
Lee chewed on a chunk of bacon as he thought, swallowed, and said, “Don’t know. Four less hands will make more work for breakin’ ground or puttin’ in a crop—if we can find farm land, that is. Hard to say. We could look more toward raisin’ cattle, but that takes work, too.” He thought some more, munching on a corn dodger. “My brother Benjamin, he had his fingers in all manner of business ventures. I reckon if I could find a borrow of money I could set up as a storekeeper—if there’s a likely place for it.”
“A saloon may require a lesser investment of capital,” Daniel said. “Although I would never consider such a proposition for myself.”
“Nor would I. I ain’t opposed to drink in a general way, but I couldn’t countenance encouraging it.”
Daniel spooned up some eggs and once they were swallowed, said, “The girls and I have some money laid by. Their laundry business was more profitable than we anticipated. Perhaps at some juncture we could consider a partnership of some kind.”
“What would your girls think about you putting their money at risk?”
Daniel smiled. “Martha would have demanded a voice in whatever venture I contemplated—with or without partners, mind you. I would certainly consult the girls, but my feeling is they will bend to my wishes.” Daniel sipped his coffee, and smiled. “I suspect my Emma will be keen on any prospect that will keep the Lewis and Pate families entwined. Unless I miss my guess, she has grown quite fond of Abel. Jane has, as well, since her noble rescue. But while Jane’s interest can be described as hero worship, I believe Emma’s leans more toward the romantic.”
Sarah had suggested much the same concerning Emma and Abel, so while it had not been spoken of out loud, their blossoming relationship was an open secret. Lee looked to the wagons, where Emma and Abel shared the chore of yoking the Lewis oxen. They smiled and laughed and talked as if the job were an enjoyable one. He realized with a start that without Richard and Melvin around, the mules were neither harnessed nor hitched. And while he knew Abel would get to it, he felt obligated to carry some of the extra weight.
“Well, Daniel, it seems we have a lot to talk about. But right now, I reckon we had best get on the road.” With that, Lee ambled away to bring in the team.
By the time the oxen were yoked and hitched to the Lewis wagons and the mules harnessed and hitched to the Pate wagon, Sarah and Mary and Jane had the camp equipment packed and loaded. There was nothing more to do than get up the oxen and slap the lines on the mules’ rumps and set out on the trail. Abel walked with Emma between the wagons. No more would he ride ahead to scout the trail or ride out in search of game. But, as his mother pointed out, horses could be replaced—sons could not.
As the wagon crossed the Gallinas River, Sarah grabbed a wagon bow and leaned out to look back across the stream toward their campsite, thinking it the last place she had seen the sons she would never see again. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear, adjusted her bonnet, and said to the husband walking beside the lumbering wagon, “It finally happened, Lee. One of your damn dreams came true.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author of the Western Writers of America Spur Award-winning novel Rawhide Robinson Rides the Range and Spur Finalist Raw hide Robinson Rides the Tabby Trail, Rod Miller also writes history, poetry, and magazine articles about the American West. The four-time Spur winner is also recipient of writing awards from Westerners International, the Academy of Western Artists, and Western Fictioneers.
Born and raised in Utah, Miller lived for a time in Idaho and Nevada before returning home. He graduated from Utah State University, where he rode bucking horses for the intercollegiate rodeo team, and spent more than four decades as an award-winning advertising agency copywriter.
Learn more about the author at writerRodMiller.com and writerRodMiller.blogspot.com.
The employees of Five Star Publishing hope you have enjoyed this book.
Our Five Star novels explore little-known chapters from America’s history, stories told from unique perspectives that will entertain a broad range of readers.
Other Five Star books are available at your local library, bookstore, all major book distributors, and directly from Five Star/Gale.
Connect with Five Star Publishing
Visit us on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/FiveStarCengage
Email:
FiveStar@cengage.com
For information about titles and placing orders:
(800) 223-1244
gale.orders@cengage.com
To share your comments, write to us:
Five Star Publishing
Attn: Publisher
10 Water St., Suite 310
Waterville, ME 04901