by Lilah Rivers
But Jesse stood his ground, as if not knowing what the brave was saying. After a few more harsh words, whatever they meant, the brave climbed down off his pony. Jesse tensed while the brave walked past him and to the shovel. He picked up the shovel and smashed the handle over his upraised knee, cracking it into two splintered halves before throwing it to the ground. The brave poked his finger into Jesse’s chest while he barked out what Jesse took for a condemnation and a threat never to do it again.
But Jesse felt the eyes of the other homesteaders upon him; he knew they were judging him, and harshly. Jesse pushed back against the Comanche, shoving him back a few feet. The homesteaders jutted, but the other mounted warriors took keener aim, ready to fire. The homesteaders backed off.
Their leader pulled a hunting knife from its sheath and held it up, striking distance of Jesse’s throat. The two men stared each other down, tension thick between them. Finally, the Comanche stepped back, sheathing his blade and spitting out a few more angry utterances before getting back on his horse. He pointed at the trenches, barked a few more orders Jesse didn’t understand, and turned to lead his men back over the plain.
Jesse stood with his fellows, all eyes on him.
Samuel Meyerson said, “Strange they didn’t kill us.”
Jesse had been thinking the same thing. He nodded and turned to survey the area. “I don’t think they’ll be quite so timid the next time. I suppose we’re done here.” They collected their tools and steeds, but Jesse couldn’t escape the questions left in the Comanche’s wake.
Samuel’s right, the Comanche aren’t exactly a peace-loving tribe. Normally they’d have killed us and scalped us and left our bodies as a warning to the other whites not to commit the same crimes. Why are we riding away without a scratch?
Jesse thought about it all the way back to Barnock, theories all converging on a single person.
Elroy Archer, Jesse considered. He was against doing this from the start. But he’d be too weak to do it on his own, makes sense he’d have someone else do his dirty work. Man like that could have friends among the savages too, come to think of it.
Riding closer to town, Jesse felt certain he was getting closer to the truth.
Maybe Archer was never really on our side, he reasoned. Maybe Elroy sold out to the ranchers, and now he’s just their puppet, stalling us until we die on the vine.
Yeah, maybe.
Jesse glanced at Meyerson and the others. They could be driven to violence, Jesse knew, and once a mob took form, it could become impossible to control.
Archer’s got a wife, that daughter. Best hang fire until I know fer sure. But if it’s true …
Chapter 17
Josh and Hugh spent the rest of that Sunday afternoon working at the ranch. The hands were all busy with the cattle and sheep, working the stables and the vegetable garden. But that still left the fence posts to be maintained, the chicken coops to be cleaned.
On that day, one of the fence posts had taken a rot and split and needed to be pulled out and a new one chopped and put in its place. Josh had done the chopping while Hugh pulled out the old. The brothers worked together to replace the post and reset the fence properly.
Hugh said, “The Archers, at church today.”
Josh was instantly apprehensive. “Yes?”
“The twins, they’re quite combative, wouldn’t you say?”
“They’re hot tempered, but basically harmless.”
“They may be.” Josh turned to glare at his kid brother before they resumed the chore, tipping the post up and sliding it into the hole. Hugh went on, “The homesteaders, I mean. Just the two of them may be nothing to worry about, but all of them together? If they rise up, we’re the nearest ranch to Archer and the other homesteaders.”
Josh paused, giving it some thought. He’d been relieved Hugh hadn’t mentioned the tension between him and Bella. He still hadn’t told anybody the complete story of his day at the creek, the day she’d saved his life. And he didn’t want to talk about the complications that day had led to.
But the idea of there being any danger of a riot among the homesteaders hadn’t been one which he had given any consideration. “They’re not violent people, Hugh. You go to church with them every week.”
“Church is one thing, but the marketplace is something else. Once they get angry or hungry enough, they could be expected to do almost anything.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Hugh. They’re just people, folks like you an’ me.”
Josh sank to his knees, and Hugh did the same, the brothers pushing the extra dirt back into the hole to fill in the gaps around the fence post. “Maybe if I could come to those meetings —”
“Hugh —”
“What? I’m sixteen years old, however old I may look; I’m not a child anymore.”
“Nobody’s suggesting that you are, Hugh. When we’re at those meetings, you’re the man of the house! Who’d look after Mother with you gone?”
Hugh seemed to give it some frustrated thought, shaking his head. “If we’re in no danger, why does she need me to stay and look after her?”
“The Comanche? You remember that cougar last year? There’s plenty to worry about, Hugh. Why not let me and Father take care of the homesteaders?”
After what felt like a nervous pause, Hugh said, “Perhaps if you were taking care of them.”
“We’re doing our very best. You don’t doubt our father’s integrity in the matter?”
“No, of course not,” Hugh was quick to say, “but how much can you do? I wonder about some of the others … that land officer father keeps mentioning.”
“Just keep your mind on the ranch, Hugh. We need all hands on deck now, and that means all men manning their stations.”
“Yeah, yeah …” The two brothers picked up the long fence beam and slid it into place atop the fence post. “What do I have to do to prove I’m ready to be treated like an equal, that I’m ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“For … for whatever’s required of me. I’m a man now; I can carry my weight.”
“And you do, Hugh, in all kinds of ways. And if you can’t see that, well, maybe that means you’re not quite ready.”
“Ready for what?” But Josh dipped his face a bit and looked at his kid brother from over the bridge of his nose, eyebrows raised. Hugh seemed to understand that he was spinning them both around in circles; that he wasn’t going to find the satisfaction he was looking for there, or on that day.
Hugh sighed as they lumbered back toward the center of the property. “You’re gonna need me on this, Josh, you and Father both. And when the time comes, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do anything for this family, you know that.”
“Yeah, Hugh, I know it.” The brothers picked up the rotted fencepost and carried it back to the barn to be chopped into kindling. “So you don’t have to prove it.”
Chapter 18
“Such a lovely home,” Bella said as she sat down with her family, Turner Moss and his parents joining them. The two-story home was well furnished, the burgeoning success of the Moss’ general store and their connections to importers back East serving them well.
Ronald Moss looked much older than he had the last time Bella had seen him; his graying hair had gone almost completely white, his big eyes sallow and sunken. But he was ever cheerful, smiling as he always seemed to do. His wife, Isla, hovered nearby, her hand hardly ever pulling away from his.
Turner served the tea, lingering near Bella before sitting down in the empty chair, very close to where she was sitting on the couch.
“So good of you to come,” Turner said. “It’s been too long.”
“Our fault entirely,” Sybil said with a sheepish tilt. “It’s been a busy year.”
“Of course,” Ronald said, his voice soft and grainy, much more than the year before when Bella and her family had first moved in.
Elroy looked the Moss patriarch over. “You’re feeling better, Ronald?”
Isla tapped his hand with hers. “You work too hard, dear.”
“I’ll be running the store full-time from now on,” Turner said, his black mustache twitching. He glanced at Bella as if checking to see how impressed she was. She gave him a little nod of congratulations. “Not that I wouldn’t have preferred it come under more pleasant circumstances.”
Elroy said to the younger man, “You’ll do very well with it, we’re sure. Anything we can do to help …”
Isla waved him off with a grateful smile. “Oh please, you’ve done so much already. I feel terrible, putting your boys to work on the barn.”
“It’s their pleasure,” Elroy said.
And so the conversation went on, Bella unable to avoid Turner’s frequent glances in her direction. It wasn’t long before Sybil suggested that Bella and Turner take a little stroll around the property.
Bella wasn’t sure if she should be angry, frustrated, or just resolute, but what she chose to say was, “With Jonah chaperoning, of course.”
Jonah and Dean shared a little glance that told Bella they knew how she felt about Turner, that she wanted some buffer between her and the erstwhile young shopkeeper, and one of the twins was going to have to be it.
So Jonah said, “Maybe we both should go along. There could be Comanche on the horizon.” They shared a little chuckle, but Bella just glared at them, a move which always quieted them. Five minutes later, Jonah was walking ten feet or so behind Bella and Turner; close enough to barely hear then, not so close that he was eavesdropping.
“I’m quite looking forward to taking over the store. My father deserves a rest.”
Bella smiled. “You’re a very dutiful son.”
“It’s not just that, of course. But his vision for the store … I mean no disrespect, of course, but … my father’s an old-fashioned man, and his ideas are from the old world. I want to take our shop, and all of Barnock, into the next era, the new world.”
“Well, that’s … that’s fine, Turner.”
“It is, and necessary! How are we going to keep up with the rest of the country, how will the nation keep up with other nations, but by commerce … and more importantly, the expansion of that commerce?”
After a stilted silence, Bella said, “I suppose that makes sense, little as I know of such things.”
“No, of course not,” he said, and Bella was struck with a sense of silent offense. “Well, there are enough things for you to have to worry about; being a good wife, raising children, and keeping a house.”
Bella had always blanched at the notion of women being little more than white, female slaves, maids and cooks who procreated for their unofficial employers. But those were the times she lived in, Bella knew that. Turner was hardly the only man who felt that way, and not without some reason. Bella could imagine a world with female politicians and business owners. But hers was a world ruled by men, governed and financed and bought and sold by men. She couldn’t change that tide for the whole country, and she didn’t want to.
In his way, Turner was right; Bella certainly did have more to worry about than running a sundries shop. Her family was increasingly caught in the middle of what could be a great and bloody conflict. This man’s pickles and sacks of oats and coffee could occupy little of her attention or interest. The more he talked, the less she cared.
“But listen to me go on,” Turner said. “Tell me more about yourself. I feel that we hardly know each other. Do you read?”
“Not as much as I’d like. I do enjoy some poetry from time to time. The Revolutionaries still hold a fascination for me, perhaps because of that war not so long ago. ‘I know not what course others may take, but as for me? Give me liberty, or give me death.’”
“Yes, quite so,” Turner said. “Thomas Payne.”
“Patrick Henry, actually.”
“Yes,” Turner said as they walked on, “quite so.”
Bella turned to glance at Jonah, the knowing smile on his lips telling her everything she needed to know about how much he was amused by their conversation. He knew his sister’s leanings and tendencies, her likes and dislikes. But he also knew the fix she was in, the increasingly few options life was presenting her. Not that he was a cruel man; Jonah was a loving brother and a kind man. But he could have a wicked sense of humor, and Bella knew she’d bear the brunt of it soon enough.
Chapter 19
“Really, Father,” Bella said, “I don’t see why there’s such a rush for me to marry in the first place!”
Elroy paced around the living room of the Archer home, a hand on the back of his neck, something he often did on stressful occasions.
“It’s not a matter of simply marrying you off,” Elroy said. “But … be practical! He’s a very sound fellow.”
“He is, that’s true” Bella had to say, the only other person in the room standing. “But there are many a sound fellow to be found.”
“Are there?” Elroy glanced at Sybil, who looked like she was about to speak, but she said nothing. Elroy went on, “Barnock isn’t so densely populated that you can just pick and choose! Your brothers face the same quandary! Eligible spouses do not grow on trees, Daughter!”
Bella turned to her mother, who kept silent, her eyes downcast.
Elroy went on, “And this fellow surely has a keen interest in you, a blind man could see that!”
Jonah and Dean shared a little chuckle but quieted quickly when Bella spun to glare at them. They could only shrug, Dean saying, “He has a keen interest, it’s true.”
Bella turned back to Elroy. “I’m very flattered by his attention, Father, but … I just don’t think I want to give my troth for it.”
As if not having heard her at all, Elroy went on pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course, the young man’s attentions are bound to stray sooner or later. Owner and newly manager of his family’s shop, with plans to expand as you heard? He’ll find another girl soon enough.”
“But … you said eligible women were as rare here as bachelors.”
“Yes, but women … they move across the country just to marry a successful man like that.”
Sybil nodded. “It’s true dear; mail order brides, they’re called.”
“Quite so,” Elroy said. “And very respectable men are doing it, more and more. So while it may seem that we are rushing you into a decision, in fact, it is time and circumstance which pressures us all.”
Bella couldn’t help repeating, “Us all? How is time or circumstance bearing down on any of you?”
Elroy glanced at his sons, and then they all returned their attention to Bella. “Tensions between the homesteaders and the ranchers are getting thicker fast, as I think you know.” Bella nodded, the only answer she needed to give. Elroy shrugged and went on to say, “It may well be that the homesteaders will lose their land, their ability to make a reasonable living in the face of these stampeding herds!”
Bella couldn’t help thinking of the dream she’d had not long before, Bella and her family standing in the face of stampeding cattle, so great and numerous and powerful that surely they all were doomed. She knew then that it wasn’t the cattle she was worried about, but the men who drove them, who raised and sold and slaughtered them.
