Ransom of Love

by Al Lacy

  Frances’s brows pinched together. “You’re not one of those mail order brides, are you?”

  “Oh, no! I wouldn’t marry a man I had never met. Lloyd and I met several months ago at a social function in Mobile. It’s just that … well, we were only together a matter of a few hours. But somehow we just knew we were meant for each other. So when Lloyd got home to Galveston, he wrote to me saying that I had captured his heart. He asked if I would write him back and tell him if I felt any special attraction to him. It went from there to a marriage proposal by letter, and so here goes Stephanie to marry Lloyd and live happily ever after.”

  “I’m sure you will, dear,” said Frances. “I’m glad you met Lloyd in person, though. I saw two of these mail order bride situations right in our neighborhood, and neither one worked out.”

  “Well, now, Fannie,” said Roger, “we’ve seen some others that did work out.”

  “Well, yes. But I don’t know how any of them ever work. Just think of it! Marrying somebody you’ve only met through the mail.”

  “I sure wouldn’t want to try it,” Stephanie said. “Would you, Mr. Johnson?”

  “Oh, ah … no.”

  “Are you married?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. But when I do marry, it’ll be a young lady I have gotten to know well, I guarantee you. No mail order bride for me.”

  The conversation went from the subject of Stephanie’s wedding to the strain developing in the country between the Southern slave owners and the politicians in the northern states who were trying to pass laws against slavery. Dan and Roger discussed it at length.

  At Houston, Dan told the Galloways good-bye and had the pleasure of meeting Stephanie’s fiancé before hurrying to another track to catch his train for San Antonio.

  As the train moved westward across rolling wooded hills and green fields, Dan saw cattle grazing on the ranches. His heart pounded with excitement at the knowledge of his big dream being realized. He thanked the Lord for the way He had led in his life.

  It was almost noon as the train neared San Antonio. Dan ran his eyes over the sun-kissed prairie and thought again of how the town made its indelible mark in America’s history. Twenty-one years ago, a small band of men—including Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, and Colonel William Travis—fought and died at the Alamo in the Texas revolution against Mexico. Such courage had never failed to stir Dan whenever he read about the fierce battle at the Alamo.

  Soon the big engine chugged into the depot at San Antonio. Dan leaned close to the window and studied the crowd on the platform.

  When he stepped off the train, he waited to be approached. He had given his description by mail to Hal Robards.

  Presently, a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a woman in a bright-colored sunbonnet detached themselves from the crowd and headed straight for him. “Dan Johnson?” the man asked, smiling.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He grabbed Dan’s hand. “Hal Robards, and this is my wife, Ethel.”

  After greeting Hal’s wife, Dan said, “I’ll get my trunk from the baggage coach, then I’ll buy you folks lunch. After that, you can take me to the hotel.”

  “I know I told you in the last letter that I’d set you up in one of the hotels,” Hal said, “but Ethel and I decided to keep you at the ranch with us until you can settle your purchase of the Circle J and move there.”

  “Our ranch house has two spare bedrooms, Dan,” said Ethel, “so there’s room for you. Is that all right?”

  “Well, of course! I’m sure the cooking will be much better there than at any café in town.”

  “I guarantee it!” Hal said.

  While they were eating lunch at one of San Antonio’s finer cafés, Hal said, “Whenever you want to go, I’ll take you to the Wickburg ranch near Austin so you can see your old friends.”

  “That would be great,” Dan said. “As you know, I’m to close on the Circle J tomorrow morning.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’m not sure just how long Mr. Jourdan will need in order to get his belongings out of the house, but I’m sure that until that time I’ll need to be at the ranch most of the time every day, learning the ropes. So once I’m all settled in, I’ll let you take me to see Bill and his folks.”

  “You just let me know when you’re ready. I’m sure the Wickburgs want to see you as soon as possible.”

  “And I them. Bill and I are very close friends, and his family has always treated me wonderfully.”

  The next morning, Hal Robards and Dan Johnson left the Rocking R ranch and headed through cattle country toward the Circle J. As the wagon bumped and rattled along the dusty road, they passed a ranch where Dan’s attention was drawn to a patch of black dots near the road.

  “Those cattle up there?” he asked.

  “Yep. Looks like they’re roundin’ up a bunch so they can single out the calves born in November and December and brand ’em.”

  “I see. This is all new to me, as you know.”

  Hal chuckled. “You’ll catch on.”

  Gradually the black dots assumed the shape of cattle, and cowboys on horses moving in a wide circle around a dusty patch where several small fires sent tendrils of smoke skyward.

  Moments later the two men were on the outskirts of the scene of action. There was noise, dust, and ceaseless motion as the cowboys singled out the calves, roped them, and slid from their saddles to wrestle them to the ground. Other cowboys moved among them with smoking branding irons, ready to burn the brand into the calves’ hides.

  Dan was mesmerized by the bawling and bellowing of the herd, the crackling of horns, and the pounding of hooves. The great mass of cattle seemed to be eddying like a whirlpool amid the shouting cowboys and the shrill whistling sounds they made as they rode about on their horses.

  He watched with interest as the cowboys with the branding irons pressed red-hot metal to cowhide. Smoke rose from the touch of the iron, and the calves bawled lustily at the burning sensation on their flanks. The rank odor of burned hide and hair rode the morning breeze.

  “I can see I’ve got a lot to learn, Hal,” Dan said.

  “Well, I have to say, my friend, if I went to South Carolina to take over a cotton plantation, I’d have a lot to learn too.”

  Dan kept his eyes on the branding work as the wagon carried him past the scene.

  “Herdin’ cattle, roundin’ ’em up, brandin’ ’em, and takin’ care of ’em is sometimes dangerous work,” Hal said. “Exceedingly toilsome, too. When you’re out there workin with ’em, there’s little or no rest.

  “The danger is that you’re continually among wild, vicious, wide-horned bulls. And even though most of the male types are always steers among the herd, even the steers can be dangerous. In many instances—and I’ve seen this with my own men and cattle—the cowboys owe their lives to their horses.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Sometimes when a bull sees a man down on his knees, holdin’ a calf he has thrown, he’ll charge him. A good cow pony will whistle a warnin’ and put himself between the chargin’ bull and his rider till the rider can get in the saddle. The horse will then dodge the bull till he gives up on gorin’ the cowboy.”

  “I’ve never even thought about that kind of danger,” Dan said. “A steer won’t charge a man, will he?”

  “Not like a bull will, but often when the herd’s milling, the steer’s horns can gore a man’s legs while he’s in the saddle just because he’s in amongst ’em. A good cow pony will keep his rider out of that kind of danger. The Lord has just given ’em a sixth sense about those sharp horns.”

  “Amazing,” said Dan. “You don’t suppose the God of creation planned for men to use horses in cattle work and gave them that sixth sense, do you?”

  Hal laughed. “You’d have a hard time convincin’ a died-in-the-wool evolutionist of that, my friend.”

  “Well, God said in His Word that a person is a fool who says He doesn’t exist, and denying God’s existence is the foundation of f
ools like that fella Jean Lamarck and those upstart pals of his, Charles Darwin and Alfred Russell Wallace.”

  “Fools, all right,” Hal said.

  “Anyway, thanks for telling me about the cow ponies. That’s interesting and necessary information for this green owner of a cattle ranch.”

  “Here it is, Dan,” Hal said. “The Circle J property starts right here at this fence. We’ll get to the gate in about five minutes.”

  Hal guided the wagon off the road beneath a large wooden arch that bore a four-foot-square frame with a J in a circle. “You won’t see the ranch house, bunkhouse, barn and outbuildings till we pass through that stand of cottonwoods up ahead.”

  As Dan ran his gaze over the Circle J property, he could not believe its beauty. The wide creek—often lined by trees of various descriptions—wended its way through the five thousand acres like a golden thread in the Texas sunshine. Among the rolling hills of green pastures dotted with Texas longhorn and white-faced Hereford cattle were huge wooded areas. The slight breeze wafting across the land made the leaves in the tightly packed trees dance and flutter.

  Dan could feel it in his bones. He was going to be happy here. “Hal,” he said, “I’m looking forward to visiting your church. I appreciate your letters that answered my questions about it.”

  “You’ll love it. Pastor Mike Custer is a powerful preacher. His sermons are filled with the gospel and sound doctrine through and through.”

  The wagon passed through the stand of cottonwoods and Hal pointed up ahead with his chin. “There’s your new home.”

  Dan immediately loved the log house and log-constructed buildings around it. He could see four men working in the corral next to the barn.

  When Hal pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the ranch house, a silver-haired man sitting on the porch rose from his chair and said, “Howdy, Hal, Dan.”

  Hal wrapped the reins around the brake handle. “Good to see you, Hollis.”

  “Good morning, sir,” Dan said with a smile and hopped out of the wagon. As he headed for the porch, he studied the wizened little man who was ludicrously bowlegged and had a face the color and texture of a burned-out cinder. He was hobbling toward the edge of the porch, and one of his short, crooked legs dragged a bit.

  Dan mounted the steps and extended his hand. He towered over Jourdan. As their hands clasped, he said, “So far, what I’ve seen of the place is magnificent, sir.”

  “Glad you like it.” Jourdan turned to Hal and shook hands, then turned back to Dan. “Do you want to take a ride over the place and look at all of it before we close the deal?”

  “That’s not necessary, sir. Let’s go ahead and close the deal, then I’ll take a tour.”

  “Fine. C’mon into the house. I’ve got everythin’ ready.”

  They sat down at the kitchen table to finish the paperwork. When the money had exchanged hands and the papers were signed, Dan eased back on his chair and said, “This is like a dream, Mr. Jourdan. I can hardly believe it’s really happening.”

  The old man laughed. “You’ll believe it when those hands of yours are blistered good.”

  “Yes, I’m sure I’ll come out of the clouds about then.”

  “Well, the blisters will soon turn into calluses, son, and by then you’ll have this cattle ranchin’ in your blood. It’s a good life. It’s gonna be hard to leave it, but these old bones of mine tell me I have to do it.”

  Dan nodded. “I’m sure glad both of our last names start with a J. The name of the ranch can stay ‘Circle J,’ and the brands won’t have to be changed.”

  “Yeah, I thought of that ’bout the time I sent my last letter,” said Jourdan. “Well, now that the place is yours, I’ll need five or six days to vacate the premises. That okay?”

  “Certainly.” A sly grin curved his lips as he added, “Of course, the rent will be fifty dollars a day.”

  The three men had a good laugh, then Jourdan said, “All that goes with me is my personal property—clothing, keepsakes, and the like. The furniture in the house, lanterns, and everything here in the kitchen stays.”

  Shoving his chair back, Jourdan said, “Let’s go out to the barn. I want the boys to meet their new boss.”

  Hal went with them to the barn where Dan met Tim Cook, Chad Underwood, Floyd Shaffer, and Jose Martinez. They were a jolly bunch, and Dan could tell right off that he and his ranch hands were going to get along well. They told him they would help him in every way to learn the cattle business.

  “Well, Hal,” said Jourdan, “I’ll take Dan through the house, barn, and other buildin’s, then how about you and me takin’ him on a grand tour of the property in your wagon?”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Robards.

  Nearly two hours had passed when the wagon rolled back into the yard after Dan had seen the property lines to every corner.

  As Hollis Jourdan climbed out of the wagon, he said, “Dan, I hope you’re happy with it.”

  “I love it more every minute, sir.” To himself he thought, The only thing missing is a wife and children to share it with.

  On Sunday, Dan went to church with Hal and Ethel Robards and loved it at once. He and Pastor Michael Custer felt a kindred spirit between them, and Dan knew he was going to be happy in the church. When he saw Mexicans and Negroes in the congregation, he was thrilled because Benjamin and Dorena would be welcome here.

  He moved onto his ranch the following week. Ethel Robards and Grace Custer, the pastor’s wife, came to help him with the ranch house by giving it the “woman’s touch.”

  On the first night, Dan wrote letters to his family and to Benjamin to let them know he was now living on the ranch.

  Day by day, the ranch hands worked with their new boss, instructing him about raising cattle and operating a ranch. Hal Robards spent half a day with him, teaching him how to structure and handle the financial part of the cattle ranching business.

  When Dan had been on the ranch for ten days, he rode to the Rocking R and told Hal he was ready to go visit the Wickburgs. They left early the next morning on horseback and arrived at the Box W ranch just before noon. There was a warm reunion, and Bill proudly introduced Dan to his new bride, Betty.

  During lunch, Bill elaborated on how he and Betty got together through a mail order bride advertisement.

  Shaking his head, Dan said, “I’m glad for both of you. It’s quite obvious you are happy together. But …”

  “But what, ol’ pal?” Bill said.

  “I’d be afraid to order a bride by mail.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you, Danny, you’ll find that eligible young ladies are scarce as hen’s teeth in Texas. The entire West, for that matter. Something like one for every two hundred unmarried men.”

  “Really? I … well, I’ve known about the mail order bride system since it first hit the papers back in ’49 when the gold rush took California. But it seemed scary to me for both the man and the woman to come to a marriage agreement through the mail. I mean, they’ve never met, yet when she comes west, she’s expecting to be carried off to the marriage altar as soon as she gets off the train or the stagecoach.”

  “No, Danny,” Bill said. “It’s seldom like that. Most of the couples agree that she will live in a boardinghouse or a hotel until they see if they’re really compatible for marriage. And when it comes to Christians using the system, they have tested each other’s salvation testimony by mail before she ever comes west. And they put a lot of prayer in it before she arrives; then they pray together while she’s living in the boardinghouse or hotel. Betty and I didn’t marry until we were absolutely sure the Lord had led us together and we had been counseled over a period of several weeks by our pastor.”

  Dan sighed. “Well, I feel better about it now.”

  Bill chuckled. “Christian men here in the West need wives, too.”

  “How many newspapers did you put ads in?” Dan asked.

  “Eight. And, of course, in the ads I made it plain that I am a born-again man and tha
t only born-again women need reply.”

  “I see,” said Dan, smiling.

  “And then, when Betty answered, she asked for my testimony, wanting to be sure I was a Christian for real. In her first letter she left no doubt for me that she was really saved. Once that was clear, and we had both received peace from the Lord, I sent her the money to come. She lived in the home of a family in the church for several months while we fell in love. Then we got married. And as you can see, we’re happy.”

  When Dan and Hal climbed into the wagon to head back, Betty invited Dan to come back when he could stay longer. She and Bill lived in their own house on the ranch and it had a guest room.

  As the wagon pulled out of the yard, Dan turned and waved. He focused on the happy young couple and once again felt the emptiness in his life and in his heart. Lord, please bring the right young lady into my life soon.

  Letters from Dan’s family and from Benjamin came on Monday, May 4. Benjamin’s letter informed him that Priscilla Moore and Craig Hartman had set their wedding date for Saturday, August 8.

  Dan immediately wrote back, telling Benjamin that he wanted him to arrive the last day or two of May and begin his job the first of June. This would give him June, July, August, and September to save up the money for Dorena’s ransom. He could go back for her the first week of October.

  At the Moore plantation, Benjamin helped Angeline out of the carriage. “I hope you have an enjoyable day, Miss Angeline.”

  Priscilla and Dorena were coming out the door. Glancing at them, she said, “I will, Benjamin. Thank you for bringing me over.”

  Benjamin’s eyes stayed on Dorena, who was warming his heart with a big smile. “Benjamin,” Priscilla called, “I’m excusing Dorena for a few minutes so she can stay here and spend them with you.”

  Benjamin’s eyes brightened. “Thank you, Miss Priscilla. Your kindess is very much appreciated. We do need time together.”

  “I know; I’m in love, too.”

  When the two young ladies had gone inside, Benjamin and Dorena embraced, then sat down on the porch steps.