by Jim Cox
“That’s where the Indians kidnapped me,” Scott interrupted in an excited voice. “Buck rescued me, but he got shot in the process. So, we had to spend a few days at the camp while he got healed up. He was going to ride west through Texas on his way to Arizona, but my sister talked him into coming with us.” Scott’s comment brought a smile to Curly, but Margaret looked at her little brother with tight lips and beady eyes.
Curly’s forehead furrowed as he nodded, “I understand why you’re still traveling but it’s at least another two weeks trip from here to Golden, and the weather will most likely be worse there than it is here because of the altitude. There’s over a two-thousand-foot rise between here and Golden. You’ll never make it through the snow that’ll come.”
“What would you suggest we do?” Buck asked. Curly picked up his coffee and took a couple of swallows as he thought on the question.
“I ain’t got enough room in this here shack to keep all of us for the winter, but I ain’t gonna let you head out for Golden, neither. I’m thinking your best bet is to head over to the Broken Bow headquarters first thing in the morning. It’s straight west of here about six miles. You can get there in a half day.”
“What’s the Broken Bow?” Seth asked.
“Broken Bow is the brand name of Mr. Simon Kelly’s ranch. His homestead is quite a sight. There ain’t another house like his in this part of the country. The Broken Bow also has a grub house, a thirty-bed bunkhouse, and two big barns.”
Margaret broke in, “May I ask you something?” Curly nodded. “Why does Mr. Kelly live six miles from you and his ranch?”
Curly smiled. “The Broken Bow is one of the biggest ranches in Colorado with just short of two-hundred thousand acres, counting the government land he controls. It spreads twenty miles from east to west and is fifteen miles deep. The homestead is in the middle of the ranch. We’re just sitting in one small corner of it.”
“Wow,” said Scott, “he sure does own a lot of land. How come you live out here in this place instead of the main ranch?”
Curly smiled. “Me and my partner, Mike, live here during three winter months. Otherwise, we live at the homestead. I got here a mite early, but he’ll be here in a few days. There’s fourteen winter cabins like this spread around on the ranch. We’re nursemaids to the cows. Keep their water holes open, kill wolves preying on ’em, tend to injuries, and make sure they ain’t dying from starvation.”
“Don’t you get lonely staying out here for three months with only one other person?” Margaret asked.
Curly shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been working for Mr. Kelly for nigh-on thirty years. Been holing up in one of these cabins every winter for the last fourteen. The job’s important even though it’s only for the cows’ protection. Sometimes at the end of my stay it gets a little lonely, but on the whole, it’s a good time to slow down and study on things. A good time to get back in the good graces with the Lord.”
Mrs. Hastings broke in. “May I ask what your last name is, Curly? It doesn’t seem right for me to call you Curly.”
“It’s Bloodlow, ma’am. Charles Bloodlow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bloodlow. Don’t you think we should be cooking supper? We’ve talked through the normal meal time, and I’m sure we’re all getting hungry. Margaret and I would be happy to do the cooking if it’s all right with you? We can cut out steaks from the buffalo carcass we have in our wagon, but I’m afraid we don’t have anything else to offer but coffee.”
“You ladies go ahead and do the fixing. I’ve got more ’taters and jars of hominy than I could eat in a year. Got slabs of bacon too. It’ll fry-up and provide the grease to cook the meat in.” Curly stood as he said, “I’ll get out the ’taters and hominy and then bring in some more firewood.”
Buck quickly stood. “We’ll get the wood, Curly, while we’re outside getting the meat.” Buck nodded at Scott, “I saw the wood stacked next to the cabin when we rode up.”
When Buck opened the door, the snow-filled cold wind nearly took his breath, and as he stepped away from the cabin, the snow depth was approaching a foot. If this keeps up we’ll be here for the winter regardless of what Curly says, Buck thought. When he looked back, Scott was hunched down into his coat with his hat pulled low walking in Buck’s footprints. After three trips, back and forth to the cabin, they had carried in enough firewood for the night, six large buffalo steaks, and all of the bedrolls. Buck also looked in on the horses and mules. They were stabled in close quarters, but they were doing fine, especially after he gave them several forks of hay.
Everyone enjoyed the meal and the evening passed quickly. Curly told tales of his past. About Indians, how Mr. Kelly and his wife started the Broken Bow Ranch, about his time as a wrangler, describing long cattle drives, and the like.
It had been a long hard day, so after Curly’s spell of talking, bedrolls were spread, and the candles were snuffed out, leaving the fireplace to provide the cabin’s only light.
As Buck lay in the dim light, he wondered, Am I ever gonna get to Arizona?
Chapter Twenty-One
Buck woke the next morning to the sounds of someone bringing the fire back to life. He had slept in his clothes, which was customary while traveling with the wagon. Consequently, after crawling from his bedroll, the only thing necessary to get fully dressed was to pull on his boots. He was careful not to wake anyone as he headed for the fireplace.
“Seth’s outside getting firewood,” Curly whispered as Buck approached. “You can throw a few forks of hay to the horses and fill their water barrel if you don’t mind. I’ll have coffee made as soon as you get back.” Buck nodded, reached for his coat and hat, and headed out. It was cold, but the wind had died, and the snow shower had stopped. Looking up, he saw a sky full of stars and a bright half-moon with no clouds in sight. It’ll be light in two hours, and a good day to travel.
By the time Buck got back to the cabin, the women were up, and coffee was poured. Mrs. Hastings was stirring up pancake batter, and Seth was slicing bacon and turning the slices already cooking in the frying pan.
As the last strip of bacon was being taken from the skillet, Mrs. Hastings called out, “You men sit down. I’ll start the pancakes, and you need to be ready at the table to butter ’em and pour on syrup while they're still hot.”
After breakfast, personal items were packed and placed in the wagon. The team was harnessed and hitched. Black and Bell were saddled and ready to go.
The travelers had boarded the wagon and Seth was holding reins. All were saying their goodbyes, and Curly offered some final instructions. “You need to travel straight west from here. In a couple of hours, you’ll see mountain ridges on both sides of the prairie in the far distance. The homestead is in the middle of those mountains. You ought to be there before noon, but don’t rush things, take your time. The horses will get tired walking through this deep snow, and they’ll need plenty of rest stops. You folks should walk from time-to-time to help ’em out.” The travelers gave nods and waves as they headed out, the sun peeping out from behind the eastern horizon. The pull through the foot of snow was more stressful on the animals than Seth and Buck had expected, so they followed Curly’s advice and stopped every twenty to thirty minutes. After every two rest stops, the men and women dismounted and walked through the snow alongside the saddle horses and led the team. Their progress was demanding and tiring for both the people and horses, but they had to keep moving. There were no other choices than to reach the Broken Bow.
On and on they trudged. The snow-covered prairie stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. It seemed as though they gained little ground but they were making headway. By mid-morning the sun beamed down, and the travelers had to squint against the reflection off the snow. A westerly breeze came up, hitting them head-on. Their hands and faces became numb even though they wore gloves and most of their face was covered with scarves, only their eyes were exposed.
As Curly had predicted, hazy snow-covered mounta
in ridges appeared in the far distance just before noon. Green pine trees descended toward a white meadow on both sides of the prairie. Hours later, a faint view of the homestead came into sight and eventually Buck and his companions pulled up several yards in front of the Kelly home at the Broken Bow Ranch. Curly was right. The two-story house was something to behold. It was over a hundred feet wide with a high peaked roof. A deep porch ran across the front. The visitors would later learn the house circled a big open-air, beautiful courtyard, landscaped with flower beds, shrubbery, and sitting areas to be enjoyed during summer. Of course, they were now covered with snow.
The far end of the house was dominated by an enclosed walkway leading to the kitchen and large eating area for the cowhands. Beyond the home were a bunkhouse and two large barns and a view of several fruit trees growing alongside a fast-flowing mountain stream.
Buck and his companions were still taking it all in when the front door opened and a well-dressed man stepped out. Buck quickly collected himself, dismounted, and stepped forward. “Are you Mr. Kelly?” he asked as he approached the man.
“No, I’m Jess Todd, the ranch foreman.” He paused as he took in Buck and the wagon. “May I ask who you are and why you’re traveling in this weather?”
Buck quickly replied, “Curly sent us here. He said he didn’t know what else to do with us. We spent the night with him at one of your range cabins and left at daybreak. My name’s Josiah Johnson, but folks call me Buck. An old man and his wife are in the wagon out yonder, along with their granddaughter,” Buck said pointing to the wagon, “and the boy on the horse is their grandson.”
The foreman grinned. “Ain’t many people like Curly, but his word is gospel with Mr. Kelly. What he says goes. It counts more than anyone’s on the ranch, including mine, and I’m the ranch foreman.”
“He was awful nice to us, Mr. Todd. He wasn’t bossy or talked down to us. We got along fine, and I believe he enjoyed our company.”
“Call me Jess, Buck,” the foreman said with a smile. “He likes you and the folks traveling with ya’, Buck—no doubt about that, otherwise he’d turned you over to the elements. And since Curly sent you here, I’m sure Mr. Kelly will provide you with the comfort of the ranch. Wave your folks in while I alert Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. We better get you settled and warmed up. I’ll send out a couple of men to tend to your wagon and stock.”
Minutes later while the travelers were waiting inside, Jess reappeared with Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. After introductions were made, Mr. Kelly motioned for a maid and instructed her to take care of the guests’ coats and hats. Afterward, he led everyone to a large sitting room where an assortment of handsome furniture sat atop braided rugs. The walls were lined with western paintings and centered on one wall was a massive fireplace. Christmas was only five days away, so in addition to the normal décor, holiday ornaments and decorations sparkled in the firelight.
“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Kelly, and we shouldn’t be in here in our condition,” Mrs. Hastings said. “Our shoes are wet, and our traveling clothes are a mite dirty. We haven’t had an opportunity to change or bathe for the past few days.”
“Don’t worry about your clothing, you’re fine,” Mrs. Kelly said, “but if you’d like, I’d be happy to take you to an area where you can freshen up.” Mrs. Hastings nodded with relief, and she and Margaret followed her into another part of the house while Mr. Kelly led the men to the men’s wash area. Minutes after they’d returned and were in a lively get-acquainted conversation, a maid rolled a cart into the room with a pot of coffee, several pieces of assorted pastries, and the appropriate tableware. “I thought we’d have a snack to hold us over and give Sun Kim time to prepare our noon meal,” Mrs. Kelly said. “Sun Kim does most of our cooking. He’s been with us for nearly twenty years.”
Even though the Kelly’s clearly lived in wealth, they acted like ordinary folks and received their guests with a grace that put them at ease. Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Hastings hit it off exceptionally well and made sure they brought Margaret into the conversation. Likewise, Mr. Kelly was engrossed with Seth’s comments about the war and its effect on the Southeast part of the country. Soon Sun Kim entered the room and announced the meal was ready and would be served in the formal dining room.
As Mr. and Mrs. Kelly rose, Buck observed them closely. Mr. Kelly was a small-framed, rather trim man of average height, clean shaven with a small gray mustache and thick, gray hair cut rather short. His clothing was that of a regular ranch hand. A gray shirt, a black leather vest, black wool pants with a wide belt and silver buckle, and western boots. Buck guessed him to be in his early fifties. Mrs. Kelly was a bit on the robust side with blue eyes and a bright smile. Her gray hair was pulled in a bun sitting low on the back of her head. She wore a dark green dress with white lace around the collar which seemed perfect for Christmas time.
When everyone was seated for dinner, Mr. Kelly said the blessing, and he even included being thankful for the safe travel of the newly arrived guests to his home. Then the food was served, and Sun Kim’s meal was delicious. Fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, and freshly baked bread. Waiting on a sideboard were three pies. As was customary with most western meals, the food was passed and eaten rather quickly with little conversation. When the main course was finished, Sun Kim poured coffee and served the apple pie. An hour later, all left the dining table and went back to the sitting room.
Buck and Scott soon grew bored listening to the dual conversations between the women on one side and the older men on the other. Jess had lagged behind after supper, and as he was preparing to leave, he said to Mr. Kelly, “I’ve made plans for Buck and Scott to sleep in the bunkhouse, Mr. Kelly. I’m assuming Mr. and Mrs. Hastings and Margaret will be staying in the main house?”
“Thanks, Jess. That’s what Mrs. Kelly and I had figured on.”
Jess nodded and then turned toward Buck. “Do you and Scott want to go to the bunkhouse and barn with me, or do you want to stay and visit for a while?”
The bunkhouse had a small divided room in one corner that served as a mini kitchen along with facilities to wash-up. The main room was lined with fifteen bunk beds and wall pegs. Three tables, each with six chairs, centered the room. At one of the tables, five men sat playing cards. The men wore hats even though they were indoors, and two had cigarettes dangling from the side of their mouths. Jess introduced Buck and Scott and said they’d be spending the night in the bunkhouse with them. The men accepted their new bunkhouse guests with friendly nods and went back to their cards.
The barns were huge. The first barn they entered had several stalls. One stall contained three milk cows, another held several hogs and several had draft horses. Chickens ran about wherever they pleased. There was a tack room and a room for grain, mainly bags of oats. The overhead loft was full of hay, and there were three wagons with bonnets at the far end of the barn’s alleyway. Jess explained the barns would be vacant when the weather broke and would then be used to house and nurse orphaned caves during calving time.
The second barn was totally lined with stalls. Buck estimated there were at least forty. He noticed Seth’s mules, his draft horses, and Black and Bell were in separate stalls. Seth’s wagon was at the end of the alleyway.
Buck was scratching Black’s forehead when Jess called out, “You boys might as well get your bedrolls and personal things from your wagon while you’re here and carry them to the bunkhouse. It won’t be long ’til evening chores, and you can help out if you don’t mind.” They both nodded their agreement.
It was close to six o’clock the next morning when the ranch hands entered the kitchen, washed up, and sat down at the long cowhand’s table. Scott sat beside Buck at the far side. Shortly afterward, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly led their guests to the table and pointed to their sitting places. Margaret sat beside Buck and Mr. and Mrs. Kelly took the end chairs. The work hands, including Jess, soon finished their meals, excused themselves and headed for the bunkhouse.
The next f
ew days before Christmas was pretty much repeats for Buck. He rose early, helped tend the stock, ate Sun Kim’s meals, and played checkers in the evening. He and Scott had been indoctrinated into checkers their first night at the bunkhouse by two of the older ranch hands and since then had spent every night in heated matches.
Buck was becoming restless even though he was staying fairly busy. He was eager to get on with his life. He thought of continuing his travel to Arizona several times every day. It seemed to Buck every new day started off with a stronger pull for him to head out.
There had been a dusting of new snow during the night on Christmas Eve but by the time the men left the bunkhouse to do chores Christmas morning the snow had stopped and the clouds were starting to break up. The workers were anxious to get to the house for breakfast and a day of celebration, so Jess instructed them to only do the necessary jobs. Milking, feeding, and watering. The men were soon sitting at the long kitchen table eyeing Sun Kim’s extra special breakfast when Mr. and Mrs. Kelly walked in with their guests. Mr. Kelly was carrying his Bible. “As we all know, today is very special,” he said after they were all seated, “and I’d like to start our day by reading scripture about the Christmas story—about the birth of Jesus.” After the reading, he prayed. The prayer was a bit long but very inspiring as he gave thanks to the Almighty for sending his Son to us for our salvation.
Mr. Kelly said amen and nodded for Sun Kim to start passing the platters of food. Eating lingered much longer than usual as people told stories and laughter abounded. Most men refilled their plates during the second passing and drank several refills of coffee. Then all adjourned to the sitting room.
