by Rita Hestand
Jodi had grown so fond of the boy. It would be hard saying goodbye when the time came. But the boy deserved whatever he wanted because he had worked so hard, and his full intention was to take his money home to his Ma, which made Jodi and Hunt very happy.
After gathering what horses were left, and the chuck wagon, they headed for Texas in great spirits.
It had finally stopped raining and the sun had come out full blast. It appeared that spring was finally on its way to Kansas. It was the middle of June and they were right on schedule.
≈≈≈
Carrying a full payroll in their pockets, Hunt was a little more cautious than the rest of them. Most of the people in Abilene knew they'd just gotten paid, so Hunt kept a watch. Abilene was a wicked little place and he wouldn't put it past anyone to try and rob them.
“Are you going to relax?” Jodi asked as she found Hunt scouting the camp's edge.
“Maybe when we get home,” he responded. “I just want to make sure we get home in one piece.”
Jodi smiled and went to hug him. “We will.”
“Aw Jodi, I guess I really am a coward.” He frowned at himself.
“What do you mean?”
“I'm scared to be this happy.”
“Maybe we should move away from Esser Crossing,” she said after a thought, a flicker of apprehension sweeping across her expressive face.
“What do you mean?”
“Away from Hershel Walker and people who don't understand things.” She began as her stomach clenched from the thought of Hershel.
“I'm not running from anything anymore, Jodi. If you want to stay there, then that's where we'll stay. I doubt we could move Clem anyway, in his condition,” Hunt said, studying the horizon.
“Hunt…Hershel said he'd be back. I think he meant it.” Jodi admitted quietly, not wanting to upset Hunt, but wanting him to know. “Just because we got married, I don't look for him to stay away. Especially since he thinks you are a coward.”
“Well, if he knows what's good for him, he won't try to mess with you again,” Hunt declared, his voice taking on an air of authority.
“I hope so…” she whispered softly into the night.
“We'll deal with Hershel if it comes to that. I'm not worried about him in the least, except for your sake. I mean, he is the f—”
She put her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “No, he isn't. You're the father, remember?”
“Are you sure that's how you want it?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.
“Very sure, from now on and forever. And I don't want to talk about it any longer. As far as anyone knows in Esser Crossing, you are the father of my baby and it's going to stay that way.”
He dipped his head and kissed her gently on the lips, continuing to feather kisses over hers for a full minute. “I can hardly wait to get you home.”
She smiled impishly, her heart beating quickly. “Why Mr. Johnson, what do you have in mind?”
“Let's just say being a gentleman gets a little harder every day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The ominous feeling Hunt had all night came to haunt him about midnight when a shot rang out and woke the entire camp. There was a loud scramble, the horses made a noise, and another shot rang out. Someone yelled. Everyone seemed to be scrambling about, then someone yelled again, a mournful yell.
Jodi lit a lantern so they could see. She wished she hadn't.
“What the heck?” Cole was on his feet and drew his gun as someone was trying to make off with the horses. He fired and felled a cowboy. He ran to get the horses, and to check to see who it was he had fired at. He recognized the kid right away; he left him face down in the dirt.
But the damage had been done. Josh lay at Jodi's feet with a bullet in his stomach. He was bleeding profusely. Hunt shook his head the minute he saw him. Jodi cradled his head in her lap and tried to comfort him.
“He cain't do…that…Jodi,” Josh was saying. “Oh God, it hurts…it hurts bad…” His eyes took on a faraway look, as though he no longer saw any of them.
“Lie still, I'll get some bandages,” Jodi cried, moving toward the wagon.
“No…it's no use…I ain't gonna last.” Josh murmured, his voice slowly becoming a whisper. “Did you get him, Cole?”
Cole came up to Josh, his eyes red rimmed. “Yeah Josh, I got him.”
Josh nodded and fell back. He was gone before Jodi could move.
Hunt picked her up and took her to the wagon. “Don't.” Hunt saw the pain and tears in her eyes, the questions. “I don't know why these things happen. I should have stayed alert. I felt something was coming. I just couldn't put my finger on it. I began to think I was imagining it.”
Concho and Jose took Josh's body away so Jodi wouldn't have to look at him like that. But she remembered the cold, glazed stare in his eyes for long afterwards.
“Did you recognize him, Cole?” Hunt asked.
Cole nodded. “It was Charlie…”
Jodi cried aloud now. “Why? He was so young…”
Matt cleared his throat as tears streamed down his cheek. “He wasn't much older than me.”
“Don't do this, honey. It will not happen again, I can tell you,” Hunt vowed vehemently. “If I have to stand guard until we get home, it will never happen again.”
“Did Cole get the money back?” she asked out of her concern for his family.
“Yes, he got it,” Hunt said as he saw Cole slinging Josh's saddle bags over his shoulder. Cole deposited the money in the wagon. He tipped his hat to Hunt and went to help Concho and Jose.
≈≈≈
“We'll bury him,” Hunt said quietly. “If you want to speak some words over him, you can do that tomorrow. Now try to get some rest.” He ordered her in the wagon. She went because she couldn't be of any use otherwise.
Concho and Jose started digging the grave, all the while talking in Spanish as they dug. Hunt couldn't speak fluently in Spanish, but he knew enough of the words to know they weren't repeatable.
Hunt didn't sleep that night.
The next day Jodi went with the men to the gravesite. She choked up at first, then she recited the Lord's Prayer. “Walk with God,” she cried.
“He was a good drover and a good man,” Hunt added. “He'll be missed.”
She cried for him, and Hunt had to practically drag her away from the gravesite. Leaving Josh there in the dust of Kansas was the hardest thing she'd done since she thought Hunt had died.
≈≈≈
Taking the horses home wasn't anything like herding the cattle; they moved right along and made good time. The weather cooperated with them, and going through Indian Territory, they met some of the same Indians from the drive north. Since Hunt's camp had plenty of meat, the Indians joined them for a couple of meals. They eyed the horses, but because he had treated them fairly, they didn't steal them. Hunt was appreciative.
Dutch and Sparky wanted to stop off in Ft. Worth and bid everyone goodbye, promising to see them all in the spring of the next year. “Cain't wait to see that little rascal of yours, Jodi,” Dutch chuckled.
Jodi laughed.
Sparky tipped his hat and they were off. Jodi wondered about Sparky. He hadn't talked a lot during the drive, but he had been there when needed and he was just as happy as anyone to get home, especially with a pocketful of money.
Jodi felt herself choking up again, and Hunt noticed. “Okay…what's wrong?”
“I don't know,” she wailed low so everyone wouldn’t know she was crying. “It's just kind of sad seeing everyone go. How can men do this year after year?”
“We get used it, I guess.” Hunt nodded.
It began to warm up on the way home and the countryside was green and full of wild flowers. Jodi managed to pick some every day. Going home was so much easier and enjoyable, except for the robbery. But with the way Hunt guarded their camp at night, nothing was about to happen.
That was until they crossed the Brazos. For some rea
son, getting this close to home made Hunt relax a little. He actually slept some at night. The Brazos was still up a little but they swam over with no trouble. They made camp on the other side, drying their clothes by the firelight.
“So Cole, what are you going to do with your money?” Jodi asked out of the blue that night as they ate supper.
Cole looked a little perplexed, like no one had ever asked him that question before. “Derned if I know. Kind of thought I might tag along with you two, help out on your place, if you don't mind. Maybe I could get some cattle and a place some day, but I'm not one to put down roots very much.”
Jodi looked him over, noting the thick, dark hair and deep brown eyes that seemed too intense all the time. “A handsome man like you should be married.”
Cole laughed, a blissfulness settling over his features. “Never found anyone special like. But maybe that's because I never put down roots before. Maybe I'll get lucky.”
Matt smiled, wanting to join the conversation. “Well, I know my ma is gonna be so surprised when she sees the money. She'll probably cry for two days, knowin' her.”
“You want to go back up with us in the spring of next year?” Hunt asked Matt.
“Sure, if you'll have me. I'll be there. Just stop by on your way up and pick me up.”
Hunt nodded his satisfaction.
“Aren't you gonna keep any of the money, Matt?” Cole asked him curiously.
“Aw…I don't need money. Ma feeds me, and I got a home to go back to. But now I have a horse, and that's something every man needs. I'll be proud as a peacock goin' back with Buddy, my horse.” Matt said, tipping his head so he could see his prize possession hobbled with the others.
Jodi watched Concho and Jose and she had to ask them the same. “What about you two? What's in San Antonio for you?”
Concho smiled, his mustache stretching against his face. “I have mucho relatives. I have a wife and three bambinos.”
“Three?” Hunt's brow went up. “You've been keepin' secrets, Concho. I never figured you for a family man.”
“Si, I have been married ten years now, to the sweetest little lady in all of San Antonio.”
“Jose?”
“Si, I have family also. A wife, a mother, and ten children, and many, many cousins.” Jose smiled when they all seemed surprised.
Willy had been quiet most of the drive back. He sat pensively listening to all the talk of family. Jodi wondered if he was missing his wife. He enjoyed listening to them, but the sadness was still there. She wished she could make him happy. “Willy, you haven't said much about yourself. What are you going to do?”
“Well, I was going to take it up with Mr. Hunt about workin' for him. I've enjoyed the drive to Kansas, and I think I'd enjoy ranchin' some. If you'll have me.” Willy looked at Hunt.
“Looks like I'm going to have all the boys I need when we get back. And from what Jodi's told me of the place, there's lots to be done. The barn is in a sorry state, the corral needs mending, and I don't know what else, but with all of us pulling together, we could make it shine. I'm sure of that. And we'll be heading out again next spring as Jodi and I have talked it over and plan to invest in more cattle. Of course we'll still be rounding up the longhorns on the range, but there's enough for everyone. I guess that's what I like about Texas.”
Jodi smiled teasingly at him. “What's that?”
“Texas,” he sighed with contentment. “It so big, and wide open. It has a little bit of everything, and now that she's gone through so much, she's worth much more than she ever was. You know when we hit the Red, I was already missing the trees. I like to watch the blue bonnets in spring pop up all over the valley. And there's nothing prettier, except maybe a cow, than a big oak tree bending with the wind. Yes sir, Texas has about anything a man could want. Including the prettiest women.”
“Yeah…I like Texas,” Willy laughed. “And I don't even know why.”
Jodi laughed with him. “A lot of people don't know why, but it sort of grows on you.”
≈≈≈
Cole sat cleaning his guns; he was the only man in camp that wore two guns. He’d spent a lot of time cleaning and taking extra care of them during the drive, and everyone noted how well they worked when needed. Still, one could tell he was listening to the conversation too.
About the time everyone was getting melancholy, the sound of horse hoofs came from nowhere. In seconds, the entire camp was surrounded by men on horseback wearing white pointed hoods over their faces and carrying torches in their hands.
“What do you men want here?” Hunt stood up and met them eye to eye, at least as well as he could, since they had those hoods on.
There was a prolonged silence before anyone spoke.
“You ain't that dumb. You know what we want. You got a big black buck here and we aim to take him. Hand him over peaceful like and no one will get hurt,” one of the lead men said through the hood.
“Haven't you heard? The war is over and the Negro people are free,” Hunt said, innocent like.
“Maybe it's over for some, but not us. We aim to see all the Negroes run out of Texas,” the man said without preamble. “They won't vote, they won't sit on juries, they won't testify against white men, carry weapons, or have certain jobs. We are the Ku Klux Klan. We believe in white supremacy and anyone that doesn't agree with it is our enemy, sir.”
“And who are you to make these rules?”
“I've just told you, we are the White Knights,” came the same voice from the mob of angry men.
“This man is a cowboy, a good one, and I’m not handing him over to scum like you,” Hunt announced.
“Then we'll just have to take him. Gettin' in our way ain't healthy, mister,” came a gruff voice from the other side.
Willy came forward, his head bent. “I'll go, Mister Hunt. There ain't no use you all gettin' yourself killed on account of me. They done killed my wife. They might as well kill me, too.”
“No, Willy,” Jodi screamed.
Just as they would have shot Hunt, Cole threw one of his revolvers to him. Shots rang out all around. The horses bucked from the noise so much that it was hard to see who came out the best for a few minutes.
Matt, Concho and Jose had quickly scrambled to the wagon to get their guns. Matt had been shot in the arm, but it was only a graze, just enough to stir him up. Cole and Hunt were poised with their guns as they noticed three of the men on horseback falling off. One was the leader.
Hunt walked over to him, ripped the hood off, and threw it away. “Now you gentlemen better take his body back the way you came because I am not burying this man for you. I won't dirty my hands with him. Nor any of the others. We're drovers and we’re just passing through. We want no trouble. But Willy is one of my men and we'll protect him till the death. Do I make myself clear?” Hunt faced them all.
Cole was holding his .44 Colt right at them. He didn't bat an eye. Concho and Jose aimed their rifles and stood beside him.
They didn't understand that Hunt was mad, hurting mad. He paced in front of their horses, grumbling as he did. He wanted to kill them all, shoot them dead. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. Hatred was a scourge to the earth. And as he recognized his own hatred of bigotry, he realized he was doing the same thing they were.
So he looked at them.
“Look at yourselves,” he yelled, trying to dissipate his own fury. “You hide behind a mask to do what you want to do. Does that tell you anything about yourselves? Do you see the irony of your actions? You big, fat, self important people. Who are you to judge who lives or dies in this country? This is Texas—no, better yet, this is America. We have fought for years for the freedom of people, all people. Texas too.
“We've been fighting for years for independence, for love of country, and for pride of the south. When are you bigots going to realize that black is simply a color? Like red or white. You don't ride after the Indians like this. And the Indians have done more harm to you and your families. H
ow many of you have lost kin from Indian raids? You don't hunt down the Mexicans that wanted to take over this state, and that massacred the entire group of men at the Alamo. You don't seek your justice there. No, you want the black people, people who haven't committed a war against us at all.
“And for what? I ask you in God's name, for what? What have they done to you? Have they hurt you? Have they taken anything from you? Why? These people have done nothing. They came, unwilling, to this country and were sold into slavery like animals. But by God, Lincoln freed them. Lincoln! You going to stand there and tell me that don't mean anything?
“Most of you men aren't cowboys, ranchers, or bums. You’re the law; you’re the big wigs in town, people of prominent families who have never known poverty, or what that might be like. Take a good look at what you want to kill. He's just a man. That's all. He bleeds just like you do and his blood is red too.”
The men on horseback were silent. Hunt couldn't be sure he reached any of their hearts, if they had hearts. These men lived by hate and hate alone. Completely insane with wanting to stop the violence once and for all, he looked at Cole.
“Now Cole here, he used to be a gunfighter. By the time you draw your guns, you'll be dead, because if he doesn't get you, I will. If you scum don't get out of my camp now I'm going start shooting you dead. Is that completely understood? I don't care who you are, where you are from, who your family is, or even if you are the law. And I will not bother myself with burying you. I'll leave you to the buzzards.” Hunt’s brows went up as he lifted his gun to the first man. “Now ride!”
There was a long silence that seemed to rip the night in two. No one moved, no one spoke, not one.
Then, slowly, the men turned their horses and began to ride away.
“There will be another time,” one of them muttered.
“That's where you are wrong, friend,” Cole said, and shot the man dead.
