THE DIARY OF JERROD BENTLY
“The Cattle Drive”

Copyright© JWO-Sept 26,2008


The year was 1875. The great American Civil War had been over for a decade. As the nation healed, people moved on, looking for a better life. Some made their way honestly while others blazed their names across the pages of history with feats of heroism or just plain foolishness. There were the James boys. Frank and Jesse who, people talk about even today, more than a hundred years since they robbed the Union trains , The Daltons, Billy the Kid, just to name a few. Then, there was one Jerrod Adam Bently. My great great-grandfather. To the golden history of the Old West, he was rather insignificant. Time would not remember him at all, except for two gravestones on a windswept hillside near Austin Texas.
Time has wiped the names and dates nearly away, but I could still read the impressions, J.A. Bentley and beside him, Samantha Ann Bently, beloved wife and cowgirl. I have thought many times about how wonderful it would be to be able to talk to these people and hear their story told as it really happened. Instead I heard it from my grandparents and parents. Every little girl born to our family wanted to grow up to be a cow girl like great great grandma “Sam.” Even me. When I look out into the pastures that roll across a hundred acres behind my house and see my horses grazing and I think of Sam Dodge-Bently and know that the blood line they all share came from her sorrel stallion named Trouble and a chestnut Indian pony called Desert Rose. Legacy raises his head. He is such a proud stallion with a diamond shaped mark in the center of his forehead. I named him for what he is “Trouble’s Legacy.” He is a grand champion barrel racer, and like his great great-grandfather, he is a deep red sorrel. Horses are and have been our life, a family tradition, handed down from one generation to another.
When I was cleaning out my parent’s house after they moved to the local retirement village I found a treasure in an old wooden box at the back of the closet in a spare bedroom. Antique shoes, an old leather bridle and bit and an old diary. It was between the dusty, dry leather covers of that very old hand written book that I found myself stepping into the misty past, the past that belonged to my Great great-grandfather, Jerrod Adam Bently. I sat down on the floor of that empty room and began to read the faded ink lines written in his hand and I was transported to a different time and place.

Kellie Bentley-Owens
1982


GRANTS CREEK, NORTHERN TEXAS 1875


Scrub Pot was a man the cowboys called a “strange duck.” He was said to be Blackfoot, but he looked more Mexican to me. He had a temper too, especially if anyone criticized his cooking or tried to interfere with that paint horse of his. He was a tall man, maybe six foot three, with shoulders like a buffalo and dark weathered skin. His black eyes held a wise expression and he wore his long dark and grey streaked hair in a long thick braid that fell down his back. He was a powerful man to say the least of him. He had few belongings stashed in the company chuck wagon. A bed roll, a bible, a shot gun and an unopened bottle of whiskey. It seemed that unopened bottle, and the spirited black and white gelding he rode were his prize possessions. I did not know if Scrub Pot could read or not, but he kept his bible close by and that bottle of whiskey locked in a small trunk. He had little to say other than a grunt every now and then. Yes, he was a “strange duck” but there was something about him that would strike the fear of God into a man, or calm the most panicked of horses. Maybe cooking for this rough bunch of men and keeping them fed three times a day was a cover? From what I saw, after getting off the stage two days ago, I could tell my aspiration for gainful employment was going to be more that just a job, it was going to be a great adventure. One thousand long horn cattle grazed a few miles outside of town of Grant’s Creek on the Hinkley Ranch, there were forty horses, give or take a few stabled at the local livery, fifteen men and Scrub Pot with his two mules, the chuck wagon and the wild-eyed paint horse hitched to the back.

Angus Watson was trail boss. It was said that he was the best man to take this herd to market and never would he let anyone forget it. As a horseman, no one could rival him. He was too good, except for Sam Dodge and I think he might have been a little worried about that young wrangler stealing his thunder. He was a commanding presence at six foot six, with red hair that curled around his forehead, and his eyes were a strange shade of blue green. He came to Texas from the Scottish Highlands. Rumor had it that he had left his home land hurriedly after too many scrapes and scandals with English rule and law. His thick Scottish burr when he spoke was a little annoying at first, but when he talked, everyone listened, except Scrub Pot. Watson appeared to have all the qualities of a good leader, but did he know cattle? Horses were his friends, the wilder the horse, the better Watson liked it, but that saddle he rode in was not like anything I’d ever seen before. It was no cowboy saddle. There was no horn to tie off a wild fighting steer. However, Watson would lead this rag tag bunch of misfits and cowpunchers into
Well. , Let’s say no one knew the future, and leave it at that. Watson and Scrub Pot seemed to be two men no one should cross. They were from two different worlds but had more in common than they knew. A thousand scrawny head of cattle, forty or so horses, give or take a few, and trouble. For a moment I was thinking that may be I should have gotten back on the stage coach that day, and gone on to the nearest railroad stop and headed for California. Moving on was the only choice I had, for what waited for me back in New York was far worse than Scrub Pot’s sour face or the annoying Scottish burr in Angus Watson’s voice.
It was at the Livery Barn, after I got off the stage coach and found a less than desirable hotel room, that I met Sam Dodge. He seemed to be a mite shorter than the other cowboys I’d seen and looked much younger. He was a quiet kind of person, soft spoken and come to think of it and in the short time I had known him, I had never seen him without his hat. He never even removed it when the ladies would pass by, or in church when I saw him there Sunday morning. Oh well, everyone is different I guess, but could that boy ride! I have seen Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show twice, and those riders didn’t have a thing on Sam Dodge. I had no idea that later on “Sam” would turn out to be Samantha and she had EVERYBODY fooled, even me. What little I knew about “Sam” was that he was Watson’s ramrod and in charge of the forty, give or take a few, horses. Yes, this was going to be the best adventure I had ever had in my entire young life.
My name is Bentley, Jerrod Adam Bentley . I was twenty one when I joined up with this pack of ruffians and as green as they come. I was from back East, and the horses I knew there pulled trolleys or were ridden by the police. The closest I’d been to one was at Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. However, necessity is the mother of invention and I knew I’d have to learn about them and how to ride one fast. The alternative was far worse if I elected to go back home. I would be back in New York marrying a girl I had no intention of making “an honest woman of.” It was my former friend, Bart Reed who took advantage of her had then and implicated ME to her father. So I had come to Texas with my freedom, four dollars to my name, and depending on my new found friend “Sam” to teach me the ways of the West.

I stood by the corral watching Sam Dodge working a huge and unruly sorrel. That horse had fire in his eyes and muscles bulging everywhere. He was blowing out of his nostrils like a run away locomotive blows steam. When his swished that long tri colored tail of his, I saw much to my horror, that this horse was a stud. He was haltered, but still he towered over Sam, and he looked mighty displeased too. Sam appeared kind of small there in the center of the corral, but seemed very determined as he pulled that rope so tight I thought it might snap. The more that behemoth pulled, the more Sam dug in his heels and when the sorrel reared up, slashing the air with those hooves, Sam yanked him back down again. I think it kind of surprised that wild bronco. I could see now why Sam had the respect of the crew and Watson. This young wrangler feared nothing, not even that horse he had in hand. Of course, had this been the time that the hat toppled of Sam’s head, I would have thought, “What a gal!” But the time for that had not come yet and no one knew Sam had a secret. The horse suddenly backed up and then bucked , throwing his heels toward the sky. Sam gave no ground. “Are you done yet?”, I heard him holler. That sorrel snorted his response and started yet another tantrum. A few minutes later, Sam had him running around in a circle. I got dizzy watching them, but then slowly the horse began to calm down. Had I been in that corral with them, I would have run for my life. Sam Dodge had guts, that was for sure. The next thing I witnessed from my safe place behind the fence post, was Sam getting that horse calmed down by speaking softly to it. One of the cowboys brought a saddle and I watched him carefully put it on the horse’s back. I was fearful watching this small, soft spoken “cowboy” climb into the saddle once it was cinched in place. I had seen the horses in the wild west show buck, but never like this one. Sam stayed firmly in the saddle and as they passed me on their wild ride around the corral, I saw Sam’s face and there was a smile on it. I was sure my new friend was going to end up at the mortuary. The wild bucking went on for a good fifteen minutes and then all of a sudden, the horse seemed to give up his tantrum and stopped. Sam rode him around at a canter and then a walk and then gingerly dismounted and handed the horse over to Scrub Pot. I watched as he led the sorrel away. I stepped up to the fence rail. “Hey Sam,” I said. “Whose horse is that?” Those brown eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief. “Yours,” Sam replied and then walked away, spurs jingling. I swear I thought I heard a laugh.
There was something about Sam Dodge. “He” had a secret to keep and keep it “he” would. At the time, Sam fit in as one of the boys and no one was the wiser. I had heard of cowgirls, but not one being head wrangler or ramrod on a cattle drive. At least the saddles I saw the cowboys using with their horses had a horn to grab on to and if that sorrel and I were going to be partners, I knew all the way down to my boot heels that I would desperately need that saddle horn in front of me. A little worried, I walked back toward the end of town where the saloon was. Maybe Sam could handle horses like that big sorrel stud, but I was not sure I could, and why was that horse so calm when Scrub Pot took him away? I’d heard that Indians had a way with horses, and maybe I could get on the old man’s good side and he would let me have one of his old mules. There was no turning back, I”d made my decision and no matter what the future held, I was going to become a cow boy, no matter what it took. As I pushed open the swinging doors of “The Painted Pony Saloon,” I glanced up at a huge imposing painting on the wall above the bar. It was an image of a wild-eyed sorrel stallion glaring at me from the dingy canvas. Maybe it was an omen. I needed a drink.

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“You don’t need that.” The voice came from the far end of the bar. “It’s bad stuff, boy.” I squinted into the smoky dimness of the saloon to see Scrub Pot sitting at the far end. “What you need is confidence,” he added.
I believe that was probably the first time I ever heard that old Indian speak.
“What do you mean?”, I asked.
“Exactly what I said,” Scrub Pot replied “Fire water only makes a man’s trouble worse.” For a moment, I thought about what he was saying. “I thought Indians weren’t allowed in Saloons,” I said.
“Some Indians, may be,” Scrub Pot answered.
“What are YOU drinking,” I asked , waiting for him to say whiskey. “Surely that big sorrel put your nerves on edge.”
Scrub Pot laughed, “No horse has ever put my nerves on edge, boy,” he replied “And I am drinking coffee. Will you join me?”
I looked around the saloon. There were several men, some of them familiar. Probably Hinkley’s men, and most were in varying stages of inebriation, and yet here was Scrub Pot, whom I was sure would be dangerously drunk, sipping black coffee. “Why coffee?” I asked.
“Why not?”, he replied as he motioned to the barkeep to bring a second cup. I shook my head, . Would he always answer with a question?”
“You like horses, Jerrod Bently?”, he asked. I did not reply right away as I was still stinging from the look the barkeep gave me as he delivered coffee after he’d been so sure he would be selling whisky instead. “What ?”, I asked. The Indian was sizing me up, I could tell by the way he was looking at me. “I asked if you like horses.” Scrub Pot repeated. His English was far better than I’d imagined, no “me heap big chief, you white eyes.” This man sounded Educated. “Well, I guess I do,” I replied “Since I am going to be driving cattle in a few days, I guess I had better.”
“Stick with Sam, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot said as he finished his coffee, “and you will be riding that big sorrel by tomorrow night.”
“You mean that one I saw him working in the corral earlier?”, I said trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice, “That one that looked like a runaway train under full steam? The one with the white diamond between his eyes? The one that is a stallion?”
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied stoically.
“That horse is a killer! , “ I stated worriedly “I am going to need a different one.”
“That horse is not a killer, Jerrod Bently. He is special,” Scrub Pot replied “You will see.”
“How do you know?”, I said “All you do is cook for this bunch of drovers.”
“Never be fooled by what a man appears to be Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot warned as he rose from the bar stool he’d been sitting on, “And stick with Sam. He’s head wrangler and he’ll teach you all you need to know.” I watched him walk away and wondered, in the weeks to come, would I figure him out? After all he was the first Indian I had ever met and he was NOTHING like what I’d expected. It seemed he had given me some advice. “Stick with Sam.” Well, why not? Sam was head wrangler and may be he could get me a calmer horse, not that red devil I had seen earlier. Scrub Pot’s words seemed to stick to my thoughts as I pushed aside the cup of coffee and ordered a shot of whisky. “Stick with Sam.” All right, I would do it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Grants Creek, Texas was not big town. It had a jail, a hotel, where the stage coach stopped, a livery, a saloon, and a general store. After sundown, there was lots of trouble to get into everywhere, and Watson’s crew was finding it all. Women, whiskey, fights and gun play. I figured many of the men would end up dead or in jail before it came time to move the herd on to a distant rail head up in Kansas somewhere. I’d had enough trouble and I decided to mind my own business. One day I would have my revenge on Bart, back in New York. But right now plotting it was not foremost in my thoughts. There were two days left before I would be leaving on my first trail drive and I was worried about how I was going to ride that horse Sam Dodge told me was to be mine. I thought that if I went over to the livery barn, I could try to make friends with that horse, and may be he wouldn’t kill me when the time came for me to get on him. The street was dusty, horse pies everywhere as I picked my way through a maze of people, horses and wagons and headed back toward the corrals. The livery barn was a long low building built of logs and surrounded by fences. Behind them were horses of all kinds, some wore the Hinkley brand, but I was concerned with only with one. I walked through the open door and seeing no one around, I started down the isle of stalls. The horses moved around, snorting and nickering as if telling each other there was a green horn in their barn. There at the end of the row, in a large box stall was that red heathen. He was huge, all muscles and dark brown eyes that looked more human than equine. He had a white diamond on his forehead and it stood out like a light in the dim stable. He looked at me and put his ears back. I took a step backward. He looked as mean as a snake and like he was more than willing to stomp me into the dirt floor of his stall if he had a mind to. I decided to stand my ground, like Sam had done, and stepped forward, forcing a nervous “hello.” Suddenly his ears cocked forward and he moved up to the stall door, looking expectantly at me. Was this some kind of a show down? Then, he backed up and snorted. I jumped at least fifty feet into the air. If horses could laugh, I know this one would. At that moment, I thought I heard someone snickering behind me. I looked over my shoulder and there was Sam Dodge coiling up a length of rope at the end of the barn about two stalls away.
“What’s so funny?”, I asked, feeling a little defensive.
“You.”, Sam replied, hanging up the lasso on a wooden peg. “Green as prairie grass.”
“That may be so, Dodge,” I defended, “But I am willing to at least try.”
“Then do it, Bently,” he said, “ if you have the guts to get on that horse.” Sam was pushing me and I did not like it.
“Where did you come from?”, he asked, as he picked up a rag and began dusting off a dark leather saddle on a stand under the ropes. I was a little annoyed “Back East,” I answered, “What about you?” Sam was quiet for a moment “From everywhere,” came the reply and then he walked off in the direction of the front door. Dodge paused and looked back at me as I stood by the red horse’s stall. “Tomorrow, Bently,” he said “Be here by seven o’clock in the morning. The boss says I have to teach you to ride.”
“All right,” I replied, knowing I would be awake all night worrying about riding this horse who was staring at me, as though he too was sizing me up. “Hey Dodge?”, I called out as he was about to walk out of the barn. “Does this horse have a name?”
“Trouble,” Sam replied, “His name is “Trouble.” Oh, this could not be a good thing at all and suddenly I felt as if my blood had turned to ice. I wanted to be a cowboy and I would do what ever I had to become one. Then, when I got back to New York, (after enough time had passed for Bart to own up to compromising Alva Jane O’Donnell and marrying her,) I had every intention of rubbing my adventures in Bart Reed’s face. Yes, that would be a good day, somewhere in the future. Bart would be doomed to a life of working for his father-in-law on the docks and going home to a whining, spoiled wife and screaming child. I would be a person who had experienced the golden west and my former best friend could just be envious. I may have been what the others called a “green horn” or a “city slicker,” but I was willing to work hard. I would try to stay out of trouble and not repeat the mistakes of my past that led me to Texas in the first place. After all the years that passed since then, I have to say that was probably one of the biggest lies I ever told. I tried to avoid trouble, but it always found me, I did become a cowboy and I did marry and was happy as a rancher for over fifty years, but that had not happened yet and I was in Grants Creek Texas facing “Trouble,” who was a cyclone on four legs and I was more than a little nervous.
Well I did not learn much about Sam Dodge that day, except he was quiet, young and a very experienced wrangler and on my way back to the seedy hotel I had been staying at, I caught a glimpse of him, his hat pulled down, shading his eyes as he spoke with Scrub Pot outside the Grant’s Creek General Store. I never saw Sam with the other cowboys unless they were doing something with the horses, but I didn’t figure anything by it. It was none of my business. It seemed that Sam only talked to Scrub Pot and I had never seen him in or around the saloon. Maybe he was too busy. Or perhaps like me, he wanted to avoid trouble. Like I said, it was none of my business so I headed for the hotel to think about my seven o’clock in the morning meeting with that red heathen and Sam Dodge. From what I read in the dime novels that J. W. Titus wrote about cowboys, I understood they were brave, fearless men who rode like the wind on the best of horses and always shot straight and true and always got the girl at the end of the story. “Fiction,” I said to myself as I climbed the creaky steps to my hotel room. I pushed open the door and walked in. The room was nothing to write home about, but at least the sheets had been changed recently and the chamber pot emptied. The window was open to let in smell of horses and dust from the street. As stale smelling and lumpy as that old mattress was, it was still a bed to sleep in, and I figured I had better take advantage of that. In a little while, I would be sleeping on the ground under some wagon. The idea did not seem all that appealing as I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off my boots, then lay down, hoping for sleep as the sounds of horses, drunks and gunfire erupted from outside the hotel. “I will get used to this,” I told myself as I closed my eyes.

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“ Samantha Ann, if your Aunt Lillie knew where you were and what you are about to do, she would skin both of us with a dull knife. ,” Scrub Pot scolded. “You were supposed to be going back to school and learning how to be a lady.”
Samantha Dodge gave her long dark hair a toss as she finished brushing it. “Aunt Lille’s ideas and mine are two different paths, Grandfather,” she replied “my place has always been with you, Doc and the horses.”
“I know what you want, Granddaughter,” Scrub Pot said.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You want to raise good horses of you own.”, the old man said “Trouble will make many fine foals.”
“Yes, that is what I want and what I will have once we get Hinkley’s cattle to market, and he is finally paid off. I have already given him the down payment he asked for the ranch.”
“You will have to marry, Sam,” Scrub Pot said sternly “Women can’t own property without a husband, and no one will be selling to a single woman, let alone one who is one forth Blackfoot. Mark my words, girls, there will be trouble ahead. Hinkley is no good. I do not trust him.”
“So you think I need a husband, to get my ranch for me, do you?” Sam replied.”And I am not afraid of Roger Hinkley.”
“For the purpose of buying The Flying S Ranch, yes,” Scrub Pot suggested. “There are laws against women owning property without a husband.”
“ So I marry some cowboy and I end up like Ma did, alone with two children barely out of their nappies and in an early grave. ,” she stated bitterly.
“Sam, your father did not desert you,” Scrub Pot stated firmly, ‘ He died trying to save the three of you.
“He was a fool,” she spit angrily “He trusted the wrong people.”
“Maybe he did, Sam, “Scrub Pot answered reassuringly “but he loved you, Brian and your mother more than his own life. He was my son and I will always be proud of that. All your life, you have been angry about losing your parents so young. Think like that sorrel stallion you love so much. He wants his freedom, but he yields his will to the rein because you trained him and he loves you. You want your freedom just as much as he does, but sometimes the reins have to be used, Samantha. ”
“I have my freedom, Grandfather,” she answered “And I intend to keep it.”
“What about Bently?” Scrub Pot asked as he stirred the rabbit stew he was cooking over the open fire between them.
“Bently?” , she snickered “ he’s a green horn and I expect I will be seeing him head for the hills or on the first stage going East by tomorrow night.”
“He has will and grit.” Scrub Pot replied “He is a good man.”
Sam leaned back against her saddle and relaxed as she watched her Grandfather’s weathered face. “How would you know if he is a good man or the devil himself?”, she asked.
“I am Blackfoot through and through, Sam,” Scrub Pot answered “I read a man like I taught you to read horses.”
“He’s a green horn,” she said as she rose to her feet. “And soon he will be heading back to wherever it was he came from.”
“I think you like him,” Scrub Pot replied as he added salt to his steaming kettle. “That is why you push him like you do.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she replied as she quickly braided her long hair and twisted it up onto the top of her head.
“Your masquerade is unwise, granddaughter,” Scrub Pot stated. ”You could get hurt.”
“ I’ve taken care of myself for a long time,” she replied as she jammed her hat on over her hair and tied the strings to secure it, “Watson, the drovers and even Jerrod Bently will never know my true identity until the drive is over and I take possession of my ranch.”
“You won’t do that without a husband, girl.”
“We’ll see about that,” she replied and she stooped to pick up her saddle. “I am going to take Trouble out for a run.”
“Trouble” is a perfect name for that horse,” Scrub Pot replied with a wry grin, “That is what he has been since the day he hit the ground. He is just like you.” The old man then looked up at his granddaughter, his deep and abiding love for her in his tired old eyes. “Sam,” he said “ You know I would kill anyone who tried to harm you.”
“Yes, Grandfather,” she said quietly as she touched the carved bone handle of the Indian knife sheathed and hanging off her belt. “You taught me everything I know about how to protect myself.”
“But are you still any good with that knife?”, he inquired with an all-knowing grin.
Between a breath and the wink of an eye, her knife flew past his ear so close he could feel the rush of air and then heard the quivering sound of the blade as it buried itself in the side of the chuck wagon. Scrub Pot smiled as he rose and retrieved it. “That’s my girl,” he said as he handed it back to her, handle first. “Good night, Grandfather,” Sam said “I’ll be back in a little while.”
He watched her walk away, heading for the stable her saddle slung over her shoulder. Her courage was not unlike the old chiefs of his tribe, the ones he remembered so well, the ones who were now long dead. Scrub Pot returned to his fire and sat down. He had watched over his granddaughter since the day she was born and he would continue that watch until the day he died.


Somehow that night, between the crunch of wagon wheels, drunks, gunfire and horses, I did fall asleep. I woke up just before dawn, thinking about the day ahead of me. I had to meet Dodge for my first encounter with that horse I’d spent the night dreaming about. First he was chasing me, than he was rolling on me and then he was rearing up and Sam Dodge was no where in sight. I got up and went to the wash stand. I poured the stale water from a chipped pitcher into the dusty basin and splashed the cold liquid into my face. It didn’t help. I was still nervous, maybe even a little scared. But I had made up my mind. I was going to ride that horse and come what may. I dressed and pulled on my boots and then left my room. There was little going on in the street as I stepped out onto the board walk in front of the hotel. Most of the windows were still dark and three drunken cowboys were sleeping it off, as they leaned haphazardly against the side of the watering troth at the edge of the dusty street. One snored loudly, while the other two seemed to be dead to the world. I did not envy them, because when this day was over with, we would be heading out of Grants Creek, bound for Abilene. I had no intention of starting out with a hang over like these fellows would have when they finally woke up. I walked away, back toward the livery barn. Maybe I could talk to that horse before Dodge got there and well . . . “maybe” and “if,” are two big words in the English language. I saw Scrub Pot’s wagon where it had been for the last two days, and that big paint of his nickered at me. I had heard the cowboys talking about Scrub Pot’s horse and they all said it was crazy. Even had killed a man. I didn’t like recalling those words when in less than a half an hour I would be getting on a horse called “Trouble.” Summoning up my courage, I headed toward the livery door. There was a lantern burning and the end of the barn and in the dim circle of light I saw Sam Dodge. “You are up early,” he said in his usual quiet way, as I walked in.
“Good morning, ” I responded, hoping my nervousness did not show . . .
“Go see Scrub Pot,” Sam said “ He just made some coffee and I have some things to do before we get started.” The idea of a hot cup of coffee, even Scrub Pot’s was appealing at this hour of the morning. “Thanks,” I said and turned back toward the door.


Scrub Pot was sitting by the fire, in his usual cross-legged pose, a colorful blanket around his shoulders. A large blue, enamel coffee pot sat on a grate over the flames in front of him. “Good morning, Jerrod Bently,” he said “sit down.”
I sat down opposite him. “You will ride today,” he said as he put another handful of sticks in the fire.
“Yes,” I replied.
“You fear that horse. ,” he said as though he was reading my mind.
“I am not very experienced,” I replied. The old Indian poured the coffee and handed me a steaming metal cup. “Never fear the horse, Jerrod Bently,” he said “They can smell fear.”
There suddenly came the familiar sound of a fresh horse pie hitting the ground. “I can smell that,” I said in disgust.
“ That isn’t fear,” Scrub Pot said as a grin crept across his usually stoic face.“That is shit.” We both guffawed as that big paint looked around his shoulder at us as though he was quite pleased with himself. From that morning on, Scrub Pot and I seemed to hit an accord. He talked about horses mostly, and being a scout and a wrangler for the U.S. Calvary. I could tell that there was far more to this old Indian than what he was letting me see, and I hoped to learn more as we became better acquainted. I heard the sound of spurs and knew Sam Dodge had come for me. It was time to sink or swim, live or die and rising to my feet, I figured I was as ready as I would ever be.

The sun was barely up, and the morning air felt heavy and humid. It was going to be one of those brutally hot North Texas days. No wonder Sam wanted to get started early. I followed him to the corral gate. He pulled it open and walked in. “Close it,” Sam said quietly. I did so and secured it. There at the edge of the corral stood “Trouble.” He was under tack, a bit in his mouth and thankfully a good sturdy looking horn on the saddle that sat squarely on his back. He looked like he might be sleeping, until he sensed us near by. That elegant looking head of his came up and he nickered at Sam, I jumped 50 feet into the air. “Relax, Bently,” Sam said “You are going to be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I replied, “I saw you break that horse just yesterday.” Sam laughed “He was broke and trained two years ago,” he said “He was mad at me and I had to show him who was the horse and who was the wrangler.”
All I knew was that I was not ready to get on that horse for anything. But I had made the commitment and I would see it through. “Wait here,” Sam said, then he walked away and disappeared into the barn. When he came out, he was leading a tall gray gelding. “This horse has no name,” Sam said “His owner died in some mining accident and I think the two of you might get along. But mind you, Bently, he is what we call a cutting horse.”
Now I was confused. “But you said . . . ” Sam cut me off “I know what I said, Bently. I figured if you had the courage to show up this morning, thinking I was going to put you on my stallion, then I’d know you have what it will take to drive this herd to Abilene.” He handed me the reins. “Now get on.” After a few ill-fated attempts to get into the saddle, I made it. It felt good to be sitting up on the back of that gray. He was tall and handsome and I liked the gentle look he had in his brown eyes. Whatever a cutting horse was, I was sure I’d learn as we went along. I watched Sam mount up on that stud, and hoped that one day I would be as quick and as good at it as he was. Greatly relieved that I was not on that sorrel, I learned to ride that morning. Scrub Pot had been right Sam taught me everything I needed to know. The rest would be up to me and the gray gelding I named “Mud.” I was ready. Watson rounded up all the drovers who weren’t locked up in the Grants Creek jail and gave orders for everyone to move out to the Hinkley ranch. The next day we would be heading for Abilene. I would learn much more about horses, riding a cutting horse and cattle as time went on, but that would come later. Right now I was faced with loading wagons, preparing horses and saddles for the long ride ahead. I headed for the saloon to celebrate my victory. For me it was too early for beer, but I also knew I could get coffee there that was better than what was at the hotel. Feeling much better about myself and ready to undertake this adventure, I tied Mud to the hitching rail next to a tall black horse with a fancy saddle on its back and walked into “The Painted Pony.”


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Outlaw or Saint ?


Everybody called him “Doc”. No one knew why. The man used no last name, just wanted to be called “Doc”. He was not the youngest cowboy in the outfit, but not the oldest either. He took his job as foreman of the Hinkley Ranch very seriously and had the respect of his crew. He was not what I would have called a tall man. He was of average height with snow white hair and a neatly trimmed beard to match. His eyes were hazel and spoke of great intellect and his demeanor let anyone who did not know him, see that he was a man well seasoned by life and experience. I’d have to add too, that “Doc” was also a handsome fellow in a roguish sort of way with his cockeyed grin and quick wit. He had the ladies at The Painted Pony charmed and at his beck and call. Everyone speculated that he was a gun fighter laying low where no one would find him. I could believe the rumors, after seeing that pearl handled colt in the fancy holster on his hip. He had Texas written all over him as he sat at the bar enjoying his morning coffee and thoughtfully chewing on the cigar he had been smoking. Yes, Texas was where a m an like him belonged all right. He’d ridden into town from out at the Hinkley place on that coal black horse tied outside. That black was so shiny and slick that you could all most see yourself in its flanks. It was wearing a saddle with more silver on it than I had seen in my life and I imagined that its stride was long and lazy, just like Doc’s drawl when he greeted me. I sat down next to him at the bar.
“Bently,” he said “I remember you.”
“Yes,” I replied “The day I signed up for the cattle drive.”
“You ever been a drover before, boy?” he asked.
“No,” I answered as the barkeep approached.
“You’ll be all right as long as you listen and learn from those around you. Stick with Sam Dodge, he’s young, but he knows what he is doing.”
That was the second person who had offered up that suggestion. What was it about Sam Dodge? I was beginning to think he was a little arrogant myself. Later on, I would find out that I was all wrong about Sam, but that time had not come yet.


Roger Hinkley was a gambler, a liar and an expert at cheating at just about anything. Why nobody had shot him or hung him was a mystery to me, considering all the enemies he had. He was probably in his early fifties , a short, stout man with heavy mutton chop sideburns and beady dark eyes. He just looked greedy. He had come to own The Flying S Ranch as a result of a card game a year earlier and the former owner ended up dead. It had been failing ever since Hinkley took possession of it. Most likely, it was because the man was lazy as a slug and spent more time drunk than he did sober. Had it not been for “Doc” showing up out of no where, things would have been far worse then they all ready were. The ranch had begun to fall into disrepair and Hinkley had to sell off that thousand head of cattle to try to get on his feet again. Either that or sell out. He’d seen Sam Dodge as an easy mark when she’d inquired about purchasing the ranch. That was probably one of the worst mistakes Hinkley would ever make. At least that was what Scrub Pot thought as he stepped down from the chuck wagon. He loved Sam more than his own life and he wanted her to be happy and successful, but The Flying S Ranch with its disrepair and scrawny cattle was not at all what he had in mind for her future. But Scrub Pot knew a secret about the property, and he had kept it for many years. He thought about that very secret as he watched his wagon being loaded. Scrub Pot had walked away before he and Angus Watson locked horns over several wooden boxes filled with sealed glass jars, being put under the wagon seat. “You’ll not be leaving’ my bottling behind,” Watson stated firmly “It came all the way from Edinburgh from my mother’s kitchen. God rest her sainted soul.”
“The heat will cause that red stuff to spoil or explode,” Scrub Pot argued.
“Never,” Watson insisted “T’is boysenberry jam, my favorite and I intend to enjoy it with biscuits.” Scrub Pot merely grunted and walked off. Watson looked after him. “Strange duck,” he muttered as he slipped his boot into the iron and mounted to his English saddle. His tall bay side stepped in protest. Maybe he did not like that saddle. Now, I had no idea what bottling was, nor did I know a thing about boysenberry jam, but later on that would really cause a whole lot of trouble, and I would find my self smack dab in the middle of an unholy mess. By early evening, the wagons were loaded with supplies, the remuda fed and ready, the cattle counted up and we’d be moving out as soon as it was light. The men sat around the fire after dinner discussing how surprised they were at how delicious that stew had been. The meat had to be the best chicken they’d ever eaten and the biscuits were light and fluffy. If that sour faced old Indian they called Scrub Pot could cook like that, this drive would be a good one. Sam Dodge brushed her stallion and smiled to herself as she heard the drovers praising her Grandfather’s cooking. Little did they know, that the chicken they so enjoyed in the stew was really a few choice rattle snakes she and Scrub Pot had caught and butchered earlier that day. She had to snicker to herself as she recalled the many times she had heard it said to never trust and Indian. She sensed a presence long before she heard the foot steps. Her hand quickly went to the brim of her hat, making sure it was secure. “Bently,” she said, without even turning around.
I was surprised. I thought I had been so quiet, yet Sam knew it was me and called me by name. “Yeah,” I answered “How did you know?”
“One of your boot heels is worn down farther than the other and your step is off.”, she replied. I was perplexed, how could Dodge know that? Later I would learn that it was because of her Blackfoot up bringing, but at the time I had no idea about that, or the fact that Sam as really Samantha. “That is a real fine horse,” I commented, “I saw you ride him today and it seemed like the two of you were talking to each other.”
“We were. ,” Sam replied as she set down her brush and picked up the stud’s front foot to pick it. “How are you doing with that grey I assigned to you?”
“Fine,” I replied “We made it out here in one piece. I wanted to thank you for your help today.“
”If you are going to drive cattle, Bently, you need to know how to ride a horse.”, Sam answered as she picked the dirt from the stud’s hoof. “Did you give him a name?”
“Mud”, I replied. “It just came to me.”
“Mud and Trouble,” Dodge commented with a grin “Not good for driving cattle.” For the first time, Sam was joking, when I’d thought he was the most serious “cowboy” on the drive. “We leave at sun up, Bently,” Sam said “be saddled up and ready to go.”
Saddled up? I had not saddled Mud or any horse for that matter. Before I retired that night, I decided I should practice saddling my horse, considering that I’d never done it myself. I had watched Dodge do it many times, so I had the right idea. At least I knew back from front...that horn ALWAYS in front.
Mud was standing in a corral next to the supply wagon and the chuck wagon had been parked. He had been fed and looked like he was napping when I approached him, my borrowed saddle over my shoulder like I had seen the other cowboys. He looked up at me with a calculating look, that said. “Surely you do not intend to put THAT back on me.” I walked up to him to put the saddle on, and he side stepped so quickly, that I nearly lost my balance. Mud trotted to the opposite side of the corral and glared at me. I glanced around yet saw no one. That was good. I did not need an audience. Again I approached Mud, the worn saddle in my arms. . He made a strange whirring sound and trotted off with a determined look on his face. That gray had no intention of letting me put that saddle on him. “Come on Mud,” I said “We have to do this. Tomorrow we have to start becoming partners. “ He pawed at the dirt and made quite a dust cloud. “You are scaring him,” a voice said from behind me. There was Scrub Pot, standing quietly at the gate of the corral. I had not heard a sound until he spoke and I had no idea how long he had been standing there watching. “I’m not scaring him,” I defended “He just doesn’t want to get saddled.”
“Try putting the saddle down and walking up to him, Jerrod Bently,” he said. My method was failing miserably, so I put the saddle on the ground and walked up to Mud. He didn’t bat an eye. I turned around and there was Scrub Pot. The man moved like a ghost and he startled me, as I never heard him walk up behind me. “You will need this,” he said as he held out a long raw hide rein. “What is this?” I asked. “Wiki wiki,” the old Indian replied, you will lead him with it. But you will have to put it in his mouth.” I felt like cringing. I had forgotten about bits and bridles. “Ah..” I began. The old man smiled “You are green, Jerrod Bently, “ he said “but you learn fast , are willing, and unafraid.” His arthritic hands moved like magic, and without any struggle or fear, the horse opened his mouth and received the looped end of the rein over his lower jaw. “Come, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot instructed “You will learn.” I did not understand why this old Indian had taken a liking to me, but I sure was glad he had. I had heard tales of the Blackfoot and was glad to be on his good side. He taught me how to saddle my horse. I even got the bit in Mud’s mouth. Yes, I was learning and now I was really feeling good about myself. I will be the first to admit that in those days I was a green horn , but I was not alone. I would watch and learn. “You will ride well,” he said “Like a warrior.” I pulled my saddle off over Mud’s gray back and turned to thank him for his help, but he was already gone. Scrub Pot had vanished, like a ghost and come to think of it, Sam Dodge often did the same thing. . .
Angus Watson counseled with Sam Dodge as the camp fire burned down. They were going over plans for tomorrow. He was talking more about the fine horses in Scotland than he was concerned about the thousand head of scrawny cattle just beyond the fence. I saw Sam shake his head, and I could tell he was worried about something, but this was the trail boss and the ram rod. I was just a drover, or should I say hoped to be a drover, so I went my way, back to the place under the supply wagon where I intended to bed down for the night. I thought of my hotel room and decided I would not miss it or the weekly sheet changes or the chamber pot. I was no stranger to hard work, and this new job, this new life was a chance to start over on my own terms. I could have looked forward to the life my father had back in New York, working on the docks all of his life and then lying in a bed for the last few years of it, his back so painfully damaged that he could not walk or get up. No, that was not for me. I wanted the freedom of the open range, and I was about to find out just how hard this job could get. I was about to settle down for the night. Dawn was not far away and with it would begin the biggest adventure of my life. Some of the men had retired to the bunk house at the Flying S, while others chose to sleep under the stars. I had my spot all laid out under the supply wagon and was just about to lay down when the sound of gun fire erupted way too close for comfort and a thousand cattle suddenly became very noisy and very restless. I sat up quickly, the gunfire kept on. Something was wrong. Watson was on his feet issuing orders, but it was Sam Dodge I saw vault over the haunches and onto the back of Scrub Pot’s paint and ride off at a dead run. With that much action going on, I got up, figuring I would saddle Mud and ride out to see if I could help with whatever was going on. Trouble already and we had not even left the Flying S Ranch. I was half way to the corral gate when I realized I did not have a gun. I saw Doc on his black sweep past me at a gallop. Whatever had happened, he was on his way to join Sam Dodge. “What’s going on?” I hollered after him.
“Rustlers, I expect,” He called back, “There’s either going to be a shooting or a hanging.” Then he was gone into the shadows.
“A hanging?”I said to myself. “In my novels that is what they did with rustlers and I was not at all sure I was up for that. However, I had Mud in hand and I saddled him again and followed the other cowboys heading out to calm the restless herd. How they would do this, I had no idea.. The moon was full that night, so I could see where I was going. Some of the cattle had spooked and were running wild, I saw Doc and Sam out the in the middle of them and with them was a man on a huge sorrel. I did not recognize him as he waved his coiled rope in the air, as they tried to turn the runaways back toward the herd. The cattle seemed to be calming down as I rode into the field urging Mud into a trot. “Rustlers?” I asked as I rode up to Doc and Sam. Sam grinned when he saw me, it seemed like he was glad I had shown up. “No”. the big man on the sorrel replied “A couple of mountain lions. It’s safe now. I shot one of them. The other one is probably all the way to Houston by now. “
”Mountain lions,” I thought to myself. “I had forgotten about them. My palms began to sweat as I held onto my reins. “This fellow said there were two and he had only shot one of them.” Oh this was not good at all. “I-I didn’t think there’d be critters like that out here?’ I stammered worriedly.
“They are everywhere,” Sam answered quietly “Except New York City.” Sam was sitting on Scrub Pot’s paint, no saddle, no bridle, no wiki wiki either. “What happened to your saddle, Sam?” I asked. Sam grinned devilishly from under the brim of that hat he wore. “I didn’t need it,” he answered “I needed a fast horse quick. “ As I watched, Sam turned the paint around and started back toward the ranch, no saddle, no bridle, no nothing but him and that black and white paint. Only Indians rode like that, or so I had read in my books, but Sam Dodge didn’t look like any Indian I’d encountered. There was a lot about this soft spoken “cowboy” that I was yet to learn. Yes, there was something about Sam that set him apart from the others. In time I would learn all I needed to know about this intriguing young wrangler.
“Hey Bently,” Doc said as he spun his black around to head back in “Glad you came out here. You’ve got grit, I will give you that.” I was impressed by his maneuver but as I watched him ride away, it dawned on me, I was out in the middle of a huge field surrounded by long horns and somewhere a very angry mountain lion. I guess Mud sensed it too and decided to jump into the air. I lost my reins, my balance and my dignity and landed face first smack dab in the middle of a fresh cow pie. So much for fancy cowboy maneuvers, I needed more practice before I could even think about riding like Doc or Sam. The stranger rode up next to me and tipped back his hat. “You all right boy?” he asked, trying not to laugh out loud at my misfortune. “Fine,” I stated sarcastically as I scrambled to my feet , and grabbed Mud’s trailing reins. “Nathan Travis,” the stranger said, offering his hand.
“Jerrod Bently,” I replied as we shook hands. His grip was like a vice and I knew this man was one to be reckoned with. That was when I noticed the silver star inside a circle pinned to his leather vest. “You the sheriff?”, I asked. He grinned broadly “Texas Ranger,” he replied proudly. I was impressed. The Texas Rangers were in all of my dime novels too and they always shot straight, got the bad guy and won the girl in the end. “Pleased to meet you,” I said. We rode back to camp together. It seemed he was looking for some one. Travis didn’t say much but from what little I gathered from our conversation was that he was trailing a dangerous criminal. Mountain lions, stampeding cattle, dangerous outlaws, Indians? Suddenly I missed New York.
The ranger went back toward town, and I slid off Mud and led him to the corral. The excitement was over and thinking I was alone, I started to take the saddle off Mud’s back. “Balance is everything,” a voice said behind me. I looked over my shoulder and there was Scrub Pot standing in the moon light by the fence.”stay in the middle of your saddle.”
“You saw me take that fall?” I asked, a little embarrassed by my lack of horsemanship.
“I see everything, Jerrod Bently,” the old Indian replied. I remembered I had once read that Indians were believed to have a sixth sense. “Where is Sam Dodge?” I asked.
“Gone to bed,” Scrub Pot replied “We rise early, Jerrod Bently,” he added. I went back to tending to Mud thinking there was one more thing I wanted to ask him. When I turned around, he had vanished.. “Indians,” I said as I turned Mud loose in the corral “They sure know how to sneak up on a man.” Sometime between lying down on my blankets under the supply wagon and the raucously loud crowing rooster on the fence post above me, I got a little sleep. By 4:00 in the morning, the men were up and moving. This was it. We took up our positions, the herd would be between us. The wagons were behind. Watson dashed about on his bay, looking impressive and giving the order to “move out.” The gates to the cattle pens were opened and we began moving one thousand head of cattle out onto the trail. It was a dirty, stinking, hot, dusty and very noisy job as we made our first few miles that day. Mud seemed to have forgiven me for my escapades of the previous night and plodded along , not bothered by much of anything other than the flies. Yes, that was when the hat I wore really came in handy, I could swat at the buzzing plague and at least get the off us for a little while. It was going to be a long trek but I was ready and glad to be part of this cattle drive. As the miles slowly passed, I thought of New York and wondered if Alva Jane O’Donnell’s father had figured out that he’d been wrong about me and Bart was now his willing or unwilling son in law after the shot gun wedding. I did not envy him for a second. I was glad I got out of town when the getting was good. I should have beaten the stuffing out of Bart for what he tried to do to me, but now it did not seem to matter. I was forgetting my city life. The dust was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife and as the sun rose higher into the sky it grew hotter, but we kept moving. Sam Dodge and Watson , or should I say Sam, had planned a route that included pasture and water for the herd. I saw Sam for the first time since we had left Grant’s Creek but we were working two different jobs. That was fine. Mud and I were getting nicely acquainted as he picked up his pace and trotted for a little while, keeping the wandering steers in line. I watched Sam and a few of the cowboys getting after strays and bringing them back to the herd. With only a thousand head, we could not afford to lose any. Obviously these cowboys had a good bit more experience than I did, but in time I too would be doing the same things they were. Progress was slow and it gave riders like me time to think. I wondered about Nathan Travis, the Texas Ranger and why he’d been out at the Flying S the previous night. Who was he looking for and why there? I had no idea.
Scrub Pot shifted the reins of the mule team into one had as the mules walked along at a leisurely pace. The crunch of stone and sand under the metal rims of the wagon wheels told him that he was carrying a heavy load and mud or quicksand should be avoided like one avoids plague. All the wagons started out heavily loaded at the beginning of the drive. They would lighten their loads as we progressed. Behind his wagon, the black and white paint walked along keeping pace with the mules and the wagon. Scrub Pot reached inside the canvas flap behind him. “Come out.” he said “It is safe now.” A fuzzy brown and white head appeared behind him. It was a young but rather large dog. She was mostly white with brown ears and matching freckles on her nose. Her furry ears that flopped over in compliment of her bright intelligent brown eyes. She was big and fluffy with four large paws and a fluffy tail that seemed to wag often. Scrub Pot smiled as the dog climbed into the wagon seat next to him and made herself comfortable. How long his grand daughter had this dog? He could not recall. She had been a small puppy when Sam brought her with her when she came back to the small settlement of Bear Claw from back East.
Sam hated Philadelphia and her Aunt Lillian’s restrictive refinement and lack of respect for her Blackfoot heritage. The East seemed to agree with Sam’s brother Brian, and he chose to stay, but Sam missed her grandfather and the horses. Somewhere on her way back home, she had found the pup she named “Diamond”. Diamond had a sweet face, and a loving disposition, but she also had a talent for picking up on danger and sounding the alarm. The previous night while the drovers slept, the second mountain lion had returned to look for its dead mate. Diamond growled, waking Scrub Pot. He had armed himself with his bow, and stepped out of the wagon ready to put and arrow through the beast. Their gazes locked on one another, and then the lion had turned tail and run. Scrub Pot knew that it would be back, and when it came, he would be ready. As a young brave, killing a mountain lion showed his courage and skill to his chief and his peers. Yes, Scrub Pot had faced many a trial in his life, fought many battles, and was known for his bravery, but there was a event coming that would test that bravery he was so famous for and bring back to him part of his past that he would just as soon forget and let stay forgotten.

++++++++++++++++++++++


We made roughly ten miles that day in the dust and sweltering heat. Watson decided it was time to stop for the night. Sam told him we needed to rest near water and grass. We were near neither. Like the other drovers, I had eaten dust all day was sweating like a pig in a Turkish bath and I was ready to get out of that saddle. I was sore in places I never knew a man could be sore in. The word had been passed that we were getting ready to stop and I relieved. Of course, like that red headed Scotsman, who was our trail boss, I did not realize that cattle needed to be where they can eat and drink and I was ready to get off Mud’s hot sweaty back. I was really peeved when Dodge rode up to me on the big stud and told me we were going scouting for water. Sam gave me that look that said “Green horn , go home.” “You wearing spurs?”, Sam asked.
“No,” I answered. Before I knew it Sam was on the ground, taking his off and handing them up to me. “Use mine,” he said as he turned and vaulted up onto that stud’s back. Either Dodge was the best horseman in the West or had a death wish. I am not sure, but that stud never batted and eye. He stood there like a statue.
Well I had never used spurs in my life. Oh yes, I’d read about the silver ones the cowboys wore to get more speed from their horse when they were running from the Indians. At least that was what was said in the dime novels I read all they way from New York to Texas. Begrudgingly I put on the spurs under Dodge’s watchful gaze. What was it about Sam Dodge? He looked so young, may be even a touch delicate, but I just could not put my finger on it. I’d find all that out later, but that time was yet to come. I had come to respect him and thought he was some one I’d like to know as a friend. I had not figured him out yet, but in the days to come I would solve the puzzle that was Sam Dodge. “Let’s go,” Sam said “and use those spurs like I do. Mud has been asleep for most of the drive, Bently, so wake him up!” He set his heels against the sleek flanks of that red stud and I was eating dust again. Now, I am not sure just what it was that I did, but I woke Mud up all right.. He bucked crazily, his heels in the air and when he hit the ground again, he took off like a shot after Sam and the stud. I was grateful for the saddle horn, and I hung onto it for dear life as we passed Sam at a dead run. As we went streaking by I know I heard him laugh. Now I was really peeved. Little did I realize that I’d just had another lesson in horseman ship. It was one that would ultimately save my sorry butt in future days. As it were, we did find water and range enough just a few miles ahead of where Watson had wanted to stop. Another hour and then we would rest. As Sam and I let Trouble and Mud drink their fill from the river, enjoying the brief break , Sam suddenly signaled me to be still. He had seen something, or sensed something. He was pointed down river. Not more than two hundred yards away, there was a rather large woman washing clothes on a rock. “What is—“ I began. “Pawnee”, Sam hissed back at me in a whisper “ They don’t see us yet. Back up quietly and get on your horse.” No painted braves came screaming out of the woods as I climbed into the saddle and that rotund woman with the long greying hair never seemed to notice us. She just went on washing and chattering on and on to herself. Sam got back on his horse and we left quietly. For a moment Sam paused and looked back down stream at the woman. I think he might have recognized her as someone he knew. We started off at a quiet walk and then both of us broke out into a dead run across the prairie back toward the herd. I could hardly believe it, I riding pretty well, and Mud was matching the stud stride for stride. Then half way back, Sam kicked the stud like I thought and Indian might , burst out a head of me and they were gone in seconds. Mud tried to keep up, but with the stud gone and Mud began to slow down. I could not believe it. I was still on him and we had worked very well together. I had felt the wind in my face, and the power of that horse under me and I knew I would never be the same.
Well, we got the herd moved up to the river, and we settled down for the night. Scrub Pot was cooking something in a large kettle beside the wagon and the sour look on his face made me want to avoid him. Obviously he was not in very good humor and in the not to distant future, I would find out just why.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++


BLACKFOOT TERRITORY - 1845

Bird That Talks was the daughter of the Medicine Chief and quite a few young brave hoped to trade many horses for her. She was short, but VERY attractive in those days and it seemed her popularity not only stemmed from her good looks and her father’s position in the tribe, but from the long unshaperoned walks she took with her lovers into the deep woods. Yes, Bird That Talks was a beauty, with her long dark hair and beautiful dark brown eyes. Her alluring shape was distracting to the men when ever she walked by. She was also vain and self possessed. The other young girls hated her. She had many suitors and lovers, and none of them stuck around long. It seemed that, once close to her, wether it be a lover, friend or relative or even her father.. Bird That Talks’ constant chattering on about nothing was a habit that repelled most every member of the village. It had become such an annoyance it was brought before the Chief himself. Chief Black Eagle knew when he saw the faces of his younger brother and two other braves who had just returned from an unsuccessful hunting trip that something had gone very wrong.
“Bird That Talks scared away the buffalo, the deer and even the coyotes”, the young Scrub Pot complained to his brother. “Bird that Talks will not be my choice for a bride. Mouth runs like wild river and never stops.” Black Eagle gave him a sympathetic look ,”Many have complained, little brother, ” he said “I will marry her off to our Pawnee half brother, Dog That Skulks. He is like her and he will take her away. Mouth runs like river, yet says nothing. You speak the truth. “
”Skulking Dog will need to cover his ears.” Scrub Pot’s companion remarked. They all nodded in agreement. The Chief dismissed the other two men but asked his brother to stay. “I never wanted you to marry Bird that Talks, brother,” he said “She is not good enough for you and I know of your white woman.” For a moment Scrub Pot was scared. He knew that his choice to love Alice Marley could get him killed, even if his brother was chief. He would not lie about it now as he faced him . “The white woman is my choice for a wife,” he said bravely.
The chief was quiet for a moment. “Walks With Horses,” he said “you are my brother. I do not approve of this union, but I will not invoke the laws of our people against you. Go in peace. Be with your woman. Remember our father and me when you have children and never let them forget they are Blackfoot.”
Well, to make a long story short, Bird That Talks married Scrub Pot’s Pawnee half brother and they rode off into the hills, talking all the way and were never heard from again. The man known to his tribe as “He Who Walks With Horses”, left his village and his family to marry Alice Marley, the daughter of a trapper and took his talents as a horse whisperer and scout to the U.S. Cavalry where he became indispensable. It was during his early days with the Cavalry that he was given the nick name of “Scrub Pot” and it stuck with him. That had all happened many years ago. No one knew of his ill fated betrothal to the woman he referred to as “Bird That Squawks.” . Little did the old Indian know that very soon, he would come face to face with her.
+++++++++++++

In all of her nineteen years of life , Samantha Dodge had never known her Blackfoot grandfather to be afraid of anything.. Not horse, or man or wild beast. He had never walked away from a fight. He had won many battles against the long knives and rival tribes when he was a young brave. Sam loved and admired him very much, but there were times when they crossed lances. When two are as alike as they were, they did not always see eye to eye. “Cut from the same fabric,” her Aunt Lillie used to say. Sam had never seen fear in her Grandfather’s eyes and never had she known him to back down from a challenge. Not until that late afternoon when she had ridden hell bent for leather into the camp to find him and tell him she had seen a small band of Pawnee at the river.
As you might have guessed, I made it back to the herd and was really glad to see that things had settled down. We were in a good place for water and grazing and everyone was heading for the chuck wagon. Scrub Pot was in a foul mood and it was very evident in his sour expression as he laid out the evening meal of beans, bread and salt pork. I saw him look up suddenly and then drop his pot grips and disappear. Something was wrong. A few seconds later I heard his horse take off at a fast gallop. All the men kind of looked at each other, and then decided to serve themselves. I was next in line when I heard all the noise coming toward us from a small stand of trees near by. It was the loud, raucous voice of a woman that babbled on and on with out a pause. There in the gathering shadows as the sun set, there appeared a Pawnee squaw surrounded by several ill fed Indians and a few small children. The squaw herself was obviously well fed. I’d say she as down right fat. She was short in stature, with long greying hair in a single braid down her back and was dressed in traditional Pawnee attire. Her long grey tunic was smeared and stained with dirt. It fit way too tightly around her ample girth. Since they arrived at the edge of our camp, they had not made a move, but that squaw kept talking and talking. It seemed that her band of companions were deaf to her constant chatter. One of the drovers, Ely Jack, watched them carefully. “What do you want?”, he called out. The rotund woman kept on talking like she had not heard him at all. Then Dodge seemed to materialize out of thin air. “She is speaking Blackfoot,” he said . As we watched, Sam approached the ragged band of wanderers. I realized that this woman who was speaking was the same one we had seen at the river. Sam Dodge was speaking to her in a language I had never heard before, then left them waiting at the edge of the camp. “What do they want?,” Angus Watson demanded. , his hand on his gun.
“They are no threat, Angus,” Sam said firmly “They want food and are looking for someone.” They looked harmless enough, but just the same, they made me feel a little nervous as I watched that fat old squaw waddle into the camp and sit her considerable heft on the ground right by the Scrub Pot’s wagon. The old Indian was no where to be found.

Sam was worried as she saddled her horse and rode off in the direction her grandfather had gone. It was a about half an hour later that she found him a few miles from the herd, and sitting alone on top of a large boulder. His paint was grazing near by. “Why did you leave camp, Grandfather?,” Sam asked “ What is wrong?”
“Pawnee, Samantha,” he replied “I have seen the signs for a while now..”
“Yes,” she said “There were about ten of them.”
“Was the woman we spoke of earlier with them?”, he asked .
“Yes,” Sam replied. She’d never heard him curse before. Sam knew he was very angry. “Do you want to tell me who she is?” she asked.
“She is called Bird That Talks, but I call her Bird That Squawks,” Scrub Pot spit is distaste. “Mouth runs faster than a wild buffalo herd.”
Sam slid out of her saddle, climbed up on the boulder and sat down next to her grandfather. “She is just an old squaw,” she said “Not a war chief and she speaks Blackfoot well.”
Scrub Pot was quiet for a moment and looked up at the stars as they brightened in the darkening sky. “Do you remember your grandmother, Samantha Ann?,” he asked quietly.
“A little,” she said thoughtfully “She was at the fort when we came to live with you after my father died.”
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied quietly “She was white.”
“I know,” Sam said “I remember that she had long golden hair.”
Scrub Pot smiled “You had barely learned to walk and she had you up on the back of her horse with her. ”
“He was a paint,” she said “Black and white, like Wakeeze. I remember that she took Brian for a ride too and he screamed and cried. “ Scrub Pot put his arm around his grand daughter. “Your brother was never meant to be around the horses. I knew that long before anyone else did. You were my little warrior, Samantha. I loved your grandmother very much, enough to leave the Blackfoot nation for her. I was never sorry. We had a good life but how I miss her.”
“She died when I was ten,” Sam answered .
“Yes, and I sent you and Brian from Fort Dodge to your Aunt Lille back East.” He said sadly. “It was best for you both. “
”Who is that woman?,” Sam asked, “That Pawnee Squaw?”
“Once, she was one of the most beautiful women in our village,” Scrub Pot replied “Many braves wanted her. But she was the most annoying, selfish, miserable women I have ever met and I almost got to be her husband.”
“Did you love her, Grandfather?” , she asked.
“No!,” Scrub Pot spit bitterly “I did not even like her, but her father chose me to be her husband. He was the medicine chief and no one dared to cross him. I was already married to your grandmother in secret.. After my father died, my older brother became chief. He knew that Bird That Squawks was not a good choice for a bride. I refused to wed her. No one could stand her because there was no peace when she was around. She talked ALL the time. My brother married her off to our half brother Skulking Dog, who was Pawnee. I went away to be with your grandmother and forgot all about “Bird That Squawks.”
“She sounds like a very annoying person.,” Sam said
“She was then and probably still is,” Scrub Pot said “I think that if she is not with a husband, she will be looking for me.”
Sam laughed out loud at his remark. “So that is why you ran away when you saw them coming,” she said.
“On the day she left our village,” he said worriedly “She swore she would have me.”
“Grandfather, that was a very long time ago,” Sam stated “I am sure she has forgotten all about you .”
“Don’t count on it, Sam,” Scrub Pot answered.
“She can’t be that bad,” Sam commented as she climbed down the side of the rock and waited there for her grandfather.
“No, Sam,” Scrub Pot stated, “She is worse.”
By the time they headed back to the encampment, the evening meal was over and the drovers were sitting by the fire listening to Ely Jack play his guitar. However, their enjoyment of his music was severely impaired by the constant jabbering of the Pawnee woman. The Indians had eaten and disappeared into the woods, but that big squaw had taken up a vigil next to the chuck wagon. Yes, Bird that Talks, or Squawks was awake and waiting. Since the passing of her fourth husband, all she thought about was Scrub Pot and his life with the long knives, training their many horses and going to the white-man’s seminary. She had also heard that his wife had died some years back and that he had never remarried. Bird that Talks planned to take full advantage of this and hopefully claim her fifth husband.
Sam led her horse away as Scrub Pot slid off his paint. Gently he ran his hand over that familiar pink velvety nose.. “Stay near “Wakeeze”, he said in his native Blackfoot tongue. After all their years together Wakeeze, understood and walked off to graze behind the wagon. He knew Sam would be coming in for the night soon and would pet him and give him attention before she retired. It was quite dark now and Scrub Pot could see the flickering light of the campfire. He heard the guitar music, but it was distorted by someone’s raucous voice. Sickeningly , he realized who it was. Scrub Pot might as well get it over with. He knew why Bird That Talks had shown up and he was not going to be part of her plans. He wasn’t all those years ago and he would not be now. Alice had been the love of his life, the mother of his only son and after her death he had returned to the reservation and lived there alone until Sam came back into his life. He was carefully watching his step in the darkness as he headed toward his wagon when he collided with what felt like a buffalo and he nearly went down.
She spoke his real name in their native Blackfoot language. The name, He Who Walks With Horses, was one that Scrub Pot had not heard in many years. His eyes focused on the large shape in the darkness in front of him. “Buffalo that stomps,” he thought to himself. No longer was she young or beautiful. She was rather portly to put it lightly. Gone was any trace of the alluring young woman she had once been. Her chatter filled the air and that told the old man all he needed to know. Bird That Talks had literally rolled back into his life and he was not pleased. “Hello,” he said politely as he offered her his hand. She never heard him because she was too busy talking to acknowledge his greeting. From inside the chuck wagon, Scrub Pot heard Diamond start to growl. At this point he would have welcomed the return of that mountain lion if it meant he could get away from this unappealing and annoying female. “Big as buffalo” he said in his thoughts, “Smells like one too.” The squaw chattered on. Suddenly her chubby hand grabbed his arm and she waddled up beside him. “It has been too long,” she said “My husband, Skulking Dog is dead.. I have eight children. Some of them are his others are my second and third husbands’. I have thought of you so often and missed you so much. Why I said to my friend just yesterday that I would love to see you again. I am sorry about your wife. After all these years I think I am still in love with you...” Scrub Pot cringed. Surely the Great Spirit would come to his rescue.
He turned away from her in disgust and climbed into the front of his wagon. “I know you must be surprised to see me, “ Bird That Talks rattled on as she attempted to follow “But I had heard you left the reservation and......”
“Go away!”, he ordered from inside the wagon “You upset my dog!”
“I will sleep out here tonight, “ she chattered “We can talk in the morning and catch up. There have been many things in my life and...”
“Can you not stop the flow of words, woman!”, he shouted “Go back to your people.”


The shuffling he heard seconds later told him that she was beating as hasty a retreat as possible. Obviously she remembered his temper. He petted Diamond on her fuzzy head. Then his dark eyes turned to the little trunk he kept locked and safely stashed under the narrow bunk he had built and kept vacant for Sam. He reached into the open collar of his red shirt and grabbed the raw hide string that held the key. “He had not tasted whiskey in many years, but tonight just might be the night he gave in. His hand shook as he unlocked the trunk and pulled open the lid. There was the unopened bottle lying there as it has for many years. His mind raced taking him back to the past and the night his son was killed. The raid, the fire, the screaming all of them drunk and he was too late. “No.” He heard his wife’s voice speak firmly “You do not need it.” Then it was gone. With shaking hands he closed the lid and inserted the key. It clicked as Sam was climbing into the back of the wagon. She was shocked to see him. “Grandfather?”, she hissed “What are you doing?”
He looked up at her. “Thanking God that I had the strength to say no,” he replied. As he dropped the key back into its hiding place. It was obvious he did not want to talk about it. “Good night , Granddaughter,” he said stoically as he turned and climbed out of the wagon. Once outside, he lay down on his blankets. Diamond, sensed she was needed and whined from the wagon seat. “Come on then,” he said and a second later the dog was curled up beside him.


It was still dark when Scrub Pot awakened to Diamond’s sniffing the air and growling low. The old man sat up reaching for the shot gun he always kept handy and looked around, seeing nothing but shadows. Diamond jumped up onto the wagon seat and sniffed at something there. Scrub Pot rose to his feet, clutching the shot gun in his right hand as he surveyed the front of his wagon. His concern was for his grand daughter who was sleeping inside. Seeing no danger, he glanced down at the seat to see a bundle of herbs tied with a strand of colorful Indian beads. He cursed. Bird That Talks had left him a gift. He picked up the herbs and held them to his nose. “Hmm,” he said to himself, instead of throwing them as far as he could “Good for cooking deer meat.” He’d seen plenty of signs of game as they had traveled on the day before. Such were his thoughts as he climbed up into the seat of the wagon. “Sam!”, he hissed. She stirred and pulled the quilts over her head. “Sam!”, Scrub Pot hissed again “It is time to get up. “
”Yes, Grandfather,” came her sleepy reply.
Scrub Pot revived his cooking fire from the coals of the night before and set about preparing breakfast for the men. He silently prayed and called on all his patience and training as a Methodist Minister to put his anger over the arrival of Bird That Talks out of his thoughts. He focused on Sam. He would see her succeed and realize her dreams. The Flying S Ranch could be repaired and even rebuilt. She could breed and raise her horses, but his grand daughter had no idea of the property’s true value. Rumors of a lost treasure of Spanish sliver had come and gone for years, but Scrub Pot knew the truth and he had kept silent about the treasure he and his son had found near what was now the Flying S Ranch many years before his grand daughter had been born. It was a tiny opening in a rock wall that led into a large hidden cavern. A huge black boulder set in the middle of three others at the edge of the Grants County line marked the place where the treasure had remained hidden for hundreds of years. The opening was completely concealed by the rocks around it and for one to get inside, one would have to be no bigger than a small child. It was a very long time ago, when Scrub Pot and his son Joseph had been caught in a terrible storm. They found their way into the rocks looking for shelter from the inclement weather. Joseph was just a boy of nine years, and his father fearing for the life of his son, saw a small opening in the rocks and insisted the boy crawl inside. Protesting and not wanting to leave his father in the storm, the boy crawled in. Scrub Pot managed to build a fire among the rocks in a place where it was dry and handed his son a torch. That was when they discovered the treasure. Old deteriorated wooden boxes spilling sliver and gold coins out onto the floor of the cave, and several still sealed coffers of what Scrub Pot assumed was even more that what he could see while Joseph held the burning torch. A child could enter, but a man could only get his head and shoulders in for a look. They marked the place in a manner only they would understand, remembering the rock formation that resembled a buffalo and swore they would keep silent about the lost treasure they had stumbled on that stormy night long ago. Time passed, life went on, rumors went on but no treasure was discovered. But the old man knew exactly where it all was for all of these years and smiled every time he’d heard the rumors fly. The cave was too well hidden and no one had been able to find it. Yes, it was real, and it was there waiting to be rediscovered. But after Joseph’s death and Sarah too, less than a year later, Scrub Pot was determined to keep the secret and one day, he would tell Sam about it and the treasure would be hers and her future would be set . He smiled to himself as he mixed the ingredients for his biscuits and hoped that his baking stone would be hot enough soon.
Sam pulled on her jeans and buttoned her boy’s linen shirt, the reached for her hair brush.
So far her masquerade was going well. No one even suspected who she really was. They were all so impressed with her knowledge and talents with horses and herding cattle that no one suspected that Sam Dodge of being nothing less that the cowboy she presented herself to be. She pulled on her boots and stepped out of the back of the wagon into the cool early morning air., her long dark hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. She froze, looking around to make sure on one had seen her. She could not be so careless she told herself as she retreated back into the wagon and braided her hair and put on her hat, pulling the brim down. There, she was ready. Scrub Pot had his coffee pot boiling over the fire and the trial boss had all ready joined him as Sam picked up her blue enamel cup. “‘Mornin’ to ye, Dodge,” Angus Watson said “How far are we going today?”
“I hope to be closer to the Oklahoma Territory by night fall,” Sam replied as Scrub Pot poured coffee into her cup. “But who knows what can happen between now and then.”
“ I am riding point with you today,” Angus said “What can you tell me about the savages that came into camp last night? You spoke to them in their language. “
“In this part of the country, most everybody knows a few Indian words,” Sam lied “All they wanted was some food.”
“Aye, and that surely was a handsome woman with them,” Angus replied. Scrub Pot nearly dropped his coffee pot. “What woman?”, he asked.
“Why the one with the long braid and that colorful dress,” Angus said “I saw her talking to you and started over to ask for an introduction. She was fair of face, I’d say.. Who is she?”
Suddenly Scrub Pot saw an end to his problem with Bird That Talks.. “She is an old friend,” he said “From my past. She is sad, husband is dead.“
”I surely would like to make her acquaintance, lad,” he said “She is a handsome woman and I have thought of nothing else since I laid eyes on her.” Sam nearly choked on her coffee and sent it spewing everywhere. Trying to control herself, she apologized, saying she had a tickle in her throat. Watson looked at the baking biscuits with anticipation in his blue eyes, “ I want to tend to my horse,” he said “I will be back in a few minutes and don’t be forgetting my boysenberry jam.”
Scrub Pot merely grunted his answer. But in his mind, he was making plans. Yes, he could introduce Watson to that pesky squaw and he could take out his bible and marry them himself if need be. After all that was his calling and he was and ordained minister. The old man smiled. Bird That Talks would soon have a husband and it wouldn’t be him. They watched Watson walk away. “There is a town on the route to the border,” Scrub Pot confided to his granddaughter. “We will be needing staples in a few days.”
“Good,” Sam replied as she finished her coffee and put her cup into the wash bucket.
“Can you spare a man to hunt deer for us,” Scrub Pot asked as he removed his biscuits from the baking stone and put them in a metal bowl.
Sam grinned “No more rattle snake?”, she said wryly.
“Only if we have to,” Scrub Pot replied “Bentley commented about the “chicken stew” just the other night. Let us not push our luck.”
“He’s a green horn, “ Sam stated in annoyance “He would not know the difference between a rattle snake or a deer.”
“You must give the man credit, grand daughter,” Scrub Pot defended “He learns fast and never gives up, like many others have and will. He is a good man.”
“So you say,” Sam replied “I will see what I think of him when this drive is over and I am moving into the Flying S. Do you recall the name of this town that is supposed to be on the route we have planned?”, she added to change the subject.
“It was called Portersville, “ Scrub Pot replied “I was there when it was nothing more than a stockade and a trading post.”
“How far?” she asked.
“May be two days if the weather holds.”, Scrub Pot answered. Sam nodded, tugging down the brim of her hat. “We will plan to over night there and give everyone a break,” she said. Then off she went to assume her role as Sam Dodge , Ram Rod and Wrangler.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


That morning, Scrub Pot had breakfast ready for the men and Sam Dodge was again conferring with our trail boss and looking a little grim. Scrub Pot seemed annoyed but went about his work as he usually did, trying to ignore the fact that Bird That Talks and her companions were set to follow us. That seemed to be the concern among the drovers as we prepared to get the herd moving. Everyone agreed that they would have enjoyed hearing Ely Jax play his guitar and sing along had it not been for that “buffalo’s”, constant chattering the night before. It would seem that the woman had set her mind on snaring a husband in anyway she could, and Scrub Pot was the object of her affections. From his sour mood and demeanor, I figured he was not pleased at all. Bird That Talks probably thought that by trailing him, she would wear him down.

The day began, hot and dusty as usual. The herd moved slow and at this pace we might make five of the fifteen miles Watson had wanted before sundown. He looked official and very much as I thought a trail boss should look as he dashed about issuing orders from the back of his bay gelding. It seemed though that he had forgotten that cattle need to eat, especially this scrawny herd, and grazing was what they needed before we got to market. Any weight they’d gained during our first stop would be walked off if we kept the pace Watson wanted. We were almost a week into the drive when Angus realized that he might not ever see the Kansas border if it weren’t for Sam Dodge and decided it would be to his benefit to remain on good terms at all times. The boss always talks to the ramrod and the ramrod gives the orders. Fat cattle fetch a better price I heard, so graze we would and often. We were still in Texas and it was hot as blazes and the lowing and moaning the cattle made was about to drive me mad. Mud plodded along, content to be just walking. The dust was thick and I would be grateful when we stopped again. I heard a rider coming hard behind me and turned in my saddle to see Doc’s black approaching at top speed. What was he doing out here? I’d thought he’d decided to stay on working for Hinkley. He pulled his black to a skidding halt next to me, the dust cloud so thick I could hardly see him. “Howdy, Bently,” he said as he pulled his horse up next to mine and loosened his reins, then reached into his pocket for a fresh cigar. “Got a light?”
I reached into my jacket pocket for my match case and handed it to him. “I thought you were staying in Grants Creek, Doc.”, I said as I watched him light he cigar and draw in the smoke. “Changed my mind, “ he said as he let out a puff. “I heard a few things about Hinkley and his dealings that I did not like so I sort of “gave my notice”. Say, have you seen Sam Dodge around?”
“At breakfast,” I answered “I haven’t seen him since.”
Doc looked at Mud and then at me. “You’re coming along, Bently,” he said, that cock eyed grin of his on his face. “You don’t look as green as you did when I saw you last.”
I wanted to spit some insult back at the man, but then I realized that may be he had complimented me. “ ”Thanks,” I said. “We’ve been out here for a week and I am still alive.”
“You know what they say, Bently,” Doc replied “Every day above ground is a good one.” At that he rode off to look for Sam. I figured he would be signing up for work. I had no idea that he had come to protect her from danger I had not been made privy too yet. Now knowing Sam as I did, and still not knowing she was really a girl, I had seen a person who could well take care of herself in just about any kind of situation. I’d have to say also that I had learned a lot from Sam since we started working together. I really liked and respected her, or should I say him. No one knew the truth about Sam, and no one suspected that she was not just “one of the boys” at all, but a very determined young woman out to prove a point and prove it she would.
Scrub Pot seemed pleased to see Doc. It was obvious that they knew each other and had for some time. I saw Doc riding along beside the chuck wagon talking to Scrub Pot. I hoped that would put the old man into better humor. The herd moved on in the heat and the dust as we put even more distance between us and Grants Creek. The Indians were there, but usually out of sight. I know I heard that woman talking. At least they weren’t hostile , like the ones I read about in my dime novels. It was such a slow pace today that I thought I would pull my latest one out of my pocket and read the next chapter as Mud walked along. He seemed content and happy to not be pushed so I loosened my reins, like I had seen Doc do and commenced reading. In a while, I became lost in the story, following the characters as it played out. It was a good one too! This J.W. Titus was one fine story teller and each one of his books were better than the last. Then suddenly, I was jolted out of the adventure when I heard Doc hollering my name. He rode up to me, a rifle in a scabbard on his saddle. “We’re going hunting,” he said.
“Hunting?” I replied a little worried. I had never shot a gun in my life, let alone hunted game. “You ever have deer meat?”, Doc asked.
“No”, I answered as I slipped my book back into my pocket. “But I did like that chicken stew Scrub Pot made the other night and that was really good.” Doc burst out laughing and continued to hee haw like a mule until tears were rolling down his face and his horse looked at him as thought he’d lost his mind.
“What is so funny?”, I asked.
“That wasn’t chicken as you know it, Bently,” he said “That was “prairie chicken.”
“So?” I inquired “It was chicken, better than my Ma could make it.”
Doc wiped his streaming eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. “It was rattle snake,” he said.
I glared at him. “People don’t eat rattle snakes,” I stated.
“They do out here,” Doc replied “and the meat tastes just like chicken!”
For a moment I thought I might be sick, but it passed.
“What’s wrong, Bently,” he said “You look a little green.”
“All right, Doc,” I said “The joke is on me and I have to say that it was good. At least now I know what to expect from Scrub Pot.”
He shifted his reins “Come on Bently, “ he said “The scout told me he saw deer up ahead. We will shoot one and then you won’t have to worry about rattle snake for a while.” He was still laughing when he trotted off ahead of me. I did catch up to Doc and we spent a few hours looking around for tracks and signs that deer was close by. We saw a few, but he said they were too scrawny for eating, so we figured we’d give it up for the day. I returned to the herd and Doc went the opposite way saying he was going to take a look around. Later I saw the rabbits being cleaned near the chuck wagon and figured he’s shot them. I was relieved to know that it would be rabbit instead of rattle snake for dinner that night.

++++++++++++++++

Meanwhile, back in Grants Creek, Roger Hinkley sat across the table from a big man who was wearing muddy boots and cloths covered with trail dirt. They sat in a dark corner of the saloon. Hinkley was not acceptable by the standards of the good people of Grant’s Creek, so whenever he needed help with one of his shady deals, he usually imported a character of low repute to do his dirty work for him. “How much are you willing to pay me for disposing of your “problem,” the man asked as he savored the taste of the whiskey they were drinking. . Hinkley looked back at his some what disheveled drinking companion. This man was a dangerous character, and he knew dealing with him would cost plenty. But he had heard a rumor about silver on his property after he had taken half the payment for The Flying S from Sam Dodge. Now his need for the rest of Sam’s money was not so pressing if there was silver to be had. He had gambled her money away and could not refund it anyhow. The best thing to do was to “dispose” of her as soon as possible and that miserable old Indian who protected her too. Then, he would keep the ranch, the sliver and if anybody was going to get hanged for murder, it would be Ned Travis.. Not him. Now it would seem that there were two brothers by the name of Travis here. They were twins who looked exactly alike. Nathan Travis, a Texas Ranger who was looking for a very dangerous outlaw who would somewhere along the dusty trail to the Oklahoma Territory, turn out to be his long lost twin brother, Ned. Ned was nothing like his brother at all, he had been born bad and stayed that way.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Rumors of a lost treasure somewhere on the Flying S Ranch were spreading like wild fire and Roger Hinkley had had to run people off his property for the past three days. Where had the rumors started? But Hinkley believed it and that the treasure was on HIS property, and he would find it and to hell with Sam Dodge and that old Indian.
The lantern light flickered as the coal oil was getting lower and lower. “Come on Hinkley. We have been out digging half the night and there is nothing here,” the hired man complained.
“It has got to be here,” Hinkley stated “I heard about it over at Bear Claw. Those Indians know something about a lost treasure buried somewhere along side of a rock shaped like a buffalo. “ The man threw down his shovel. “This ain’t no buffalo,”, he snapped “You dig. I quit!”
“You are done when I say you are done,” Hinkley growled as he drew his gun. “Now dig.. I want that silver. It’s mine and I intend to have it all. “
”Did you forget about the Indian girl and her grandfather,” the man with the shovel taunted, “She paid you half your price. I’d say when she gets back here, that silver, if it exists at all is hers.”
“I am not worried about that girl or the old man,” Hinkley hissed “I sent Travis after them.”
“Ned Travis?”, the man questioned, his eye brow cocked in an expression that said he knew something Roger Hinkly didn’t.
“Yes,” Hinkley replied proudly “He is a hired gun.”
“Yeah,” the man laughed “And an idiot to boot!” Hinkley’s eyes narrowed “What are you talking about,” he inquired suspiciously. “Travis is going to take care of Sam Dodge and the old man.”
“More likely they will get him before he gets the first shot off,” the hired man stated with sneer in his voice. Mr. Hinkley, you’ve been took.. You just ain’t heard about it yet.”
“I rather doubt that,” Hinkley replied “I paid him half of a hefty price and he has to return to Grants Creek to collect the rest. That will be after he kills that old Indian and that arrogant half breed girl.” Hinkley wondered why the man kept laughing as he dug deeper into the hole at the side of the rocks.

Now, Ned Travis was an out law. He’d been in a lot of trouble since he was a kid. But he had bungled just about every job he’d taken. The only reason he was so feared was that a few years back, he accidently killed a fellow outlaw who had been terrorizing the area. So it was all by accident that he became a hired killer. But, he liked to make a buck too , anyway he could and seeing how desperate Roger Hinkley was to rid himself of Sam Dodge and Scrub Pot , he decided to make his highly over rated skills available for a price he pulled out of the air the day he met with Hinkley. Ned had been very surprised when he got just what he asked for. He also would be even more surprised to find that his long lost twin, Nathan was on his trail and only a few days behind him. In the not too distant future, their paths would cross and the outcome would not be good by any means. Ned began his trek shortly after the Hinkley’s herd drive left Grants Creek. He had been tailing them, keeping out of sight for a few days and even once he had Scrub Pot in his sights, but that was the day his gun misfired and blew up in his hand. Now he was in need of a doctor to treat the powder burns and a gun smith to replace his ruined six gun. Bad luck seemed to be all the luck Ned Travis had so far and it did not put him in very good humor at all. The burns hurt, the gun was useless and he had not killed anybody. Cursing he rode his horse across a rocky creek and when they reached the other side, he discovered that the old gelding had lost two shoes. Now he needed a farrier along with a doctor and a gun smith. This put him even farther behind on his “job” and he was not happy by any means..

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It rained that morning and for the first time I used my slicker. We worked in the mud , sometimes having to get off our horses and clean the clods out of their feet before we could move on. But along about mid morning, the rain stopped and the sun came out and the air became muggy, making for a miserable situation. I had cleaned Mud’s feet at least ten times and as I was finishing the eleventh , Doc rode up to us. His black was muddy up to his knees and Doc’s slicker was rolled up at attached to the back of his saddle. He carried his rifle with him. “Mornin’ Bently, “ he said as he tipped back his hat and looked at me and then at Mud. “We won’t be making good time today,” he added, “Not with all this mud to deal with.”
“May be we will get out of it in a few miles,” I replied as I swung into my saddle. Doc grinned his approval. “Not bad, Bently,” he stated as he fumbled in his pocket for that unlit cigar I knew he still had with him. “Seems you learned well from Sam Dodge.”
“It has been sink or swim,” I replied “What is going on?”
“Boss wants deer meat,” Doc said “And you and I are going to do some more hunting .”
“ I told you, I don’t know anything about hunting,” I said “Don’t think I will be much help.” I signaled Mud forward and Doc joined me. “You said that this job was an adventure,” he said “And that you wanted to learn all you could about being a cow boy.”
“That’s right,” I replied.
“So part of this is keeping the crew fed,” Doc said. I turned to him, glowering as I recalled our last conversation about such things.
“You had the stones to try that rattle snake,” he added.
“I had no idea what it was,” I replied.
“Most of the boys were of the same notion,” Doc said “They still don’t know. That is what you get for hiring an Indian for a cook.”
“I like the old man,” I said. “What is he to Dodge anyway?”
“Don’t know,” Doc replied. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was lying. He knew a lot more about the old Indian and Sam Dodge that he was letting on. Quickly he changed the subject to hunting deer and shooting his carbine. I listened as we rode on and hoped that I would be able to accomplish what he was talking about. I had never hunted game in my life, let alone fired a rifle like Doc’s. It obviously had been with him since the war and he knew how to use it well. It was a bolt action , one shot rifle, so if I was going to shoot a deer I had to have good aim. That was something I was not sure that I could do. “Anyway, Bently,” Doc went on “I think you will like venison better than rattle snake. “ We were a few miles ahead of the herd and watching the ground at our horses’ feet for tracks in the mud. The farther we went on ahead the drier the trail became. That was a good sign. Maybe we could make up the time we had lost during the rains earlier in the day. Satisfied with the freshness of the tracks we had been seeing, Doc pulled his horse to a halt. “Here is a good place to start,” he said as he slid out of his saddle and pulled the rifle from its scabbard “Let’s go.” I dismounted and left Mud grazing along side of Doc’s black and followed Doc into the woods. We were trailing a deer and from what he said, it probably was a big one, due to the depth of the tracks and size. Under the cover of the trees, we paused while Doc prepared to load the carbine. “That from the war?”, I asked.
“Yup,” he replied “Got me out of many a scrape during those years.”
“What side were you on?”, I asked as he loaded the ammunition into the chamber.
“South,” he replied “Under General Jeb Stuart. Calvary. What about you?”
“I was too young,” I replied “My Ma forbid me to go when the boys from our neighborhood boarded that train for Washington.”
“Just as well, boy,” Doc replied, a distant look in his eyes “At least you are here to hunt today. There were too many boys your age on both sides who never came home.”
“I know,” I replied “My older brother was one of them.”
“Sorry, Bently,” he replied quietly “Let’s go shoot us a deer.”

Meanwhile, the herd kept moving. Once out of the mud and on dry trail again the dust rose into a huge cloud from under the feet of the cattle and horses. Sam Dodge rode point that day, pausing to check her map for where she thought there would be enough water for the cattle. Angus had proved to be less than reliable and Sam knew that it would be up to her to bring the herd into that distant railhead near Abilene Kansas. There was no choice if she wanted to own The Flying S Ranch when she was done. That was her determination as she rode on ahead of the rest. She had a dream, the same one that had been her father’s before her, that she would raise the best horses in the state of Texas. That powerful stud she rode would be the one to start that blood line, her bloodline and brand. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck stood up, the way it always did when she knew someone was behind her. It was not the first time this had happened since she started out. She sensed that she was being watched and had been for the last couple of days. She figured it was one of the Pawnee band. Suddenly Trouble began to snort and prance around, not heeding of her commands with bit or reins. He reared up. Sam cracked him between the ears with the flat of her hand and cursed at him. He only acted up like that when there was a mare in season close by. Darn, those mustangs were everywhere and this was not a good time for one of them to be this close. Trouble, pranced and snorted, sniffing the air and sticking out his dark lips. Yes, it had to be a mare in season or he would not be acting like such a fool. She made him obey her and then turned around in her saddle to look behind her. Out of the woods, stepped the most beautiful sorrel mare she had ever laid eyes on. She was broad and handsome, with no other white mark on her than a tiny white dot on her forehead. She petted Trouble’s shoulder to steady him, as he had noticed her too. On the mare’s back there was mounted a young Blackfoot brave, dressed in all his colorful finery and feathers. For a moment Sam stared at him, thinking she should know him. “Samantha,” he said in English “I have come a long way to find you.” She looked at him. He was handsome young man, that was a given, with his long dark hair and brown skin. “Little Fox?” she questioned as she shaded her eyes.
“So you remember,” he said as he rode up to her. “Fine stallion,” he added, “But for you I would expect nothing less.”
“It’s Trouble,” Sam answered “You remember. He was born at Bear Claw.”
“I remember his sire” Little Fox replied “Everyone wanted your Grandfather’s stallion.” He bred many mares and produced fine foals. This mare is Desert Rose. She is a wedding present.”
“You are getting married?”, Sam questioned.
“Yes,” Little Fox replied “I am twenty one summers and my father says I must take a wife.”
“Well, congratulations,” Sam said a little uncomfortable about the way her old friend was looking at her.”
“I always thought you were very beautiful, Samantha,” he said “But I have never seen you dressed like a man before. Why do you hide yourself in the white-man’s clothes?”
“Because I am ram rod on this cattle drive and I would never have been hired if they’d known who I really am.” Sam replied almost defensively. “How long have you been following me anyway?”
“Three days,” Little Fox replied “I have come to ask you to be my bride. I want no other girl, Samantha. Say yes to me and the mare will be my betrothal gift.” Now that mare looked pretty good and Sam Dodge had an eye for fine horses and it was just as keen as her Grandfather’s was. But she had a job to do, a ranch to buy and a life to build, and this unexpected proposal of marriage from a boy she had grown up with during her days on the reservation at Bear Claw was a surprise. However, that mare was just what she was hoping to find, but the timing was bad. She looked Little Fox in the eye. “Let me think about it, Little Fox,” she said “Then tell your father to come and speak to my Grandfather when we get back to Grants Creek. Little Fox smiled and let out a war whoop as he spun the mare around and dashed off. Sam watched them disappear and knew that she had to have that mare. As the wind changed and the scent faded, Trouble became calmer and more willing to concentrate on work instead of Little Fox’s mare.
Back on the hunt, Doc had shown me how to work the bolt action on his carbine and we were close enough to a small group of deer that I could almost reach out and touch one. We were to shoot the big buck with a rack of horns on his head that looked mighty dangerous if I missed. Doc insisted on me shooting it and that I would have learned something new. So I agreed and now I carried the carbine while Doc instructed in a whisper. The cattle were getting closer, I could see the dust and hear the rumbling sound as they approached, but we were a safe distance away and I was about to shoot my first deer. It was getting hotter and despite the shade I was sweating , not sure if it was my nerves or the heat. We hunkered down in the brush watching the deer. It looked like it would be a clear shot. “Wait for the right moment,” Doc hissed. “Let him get closer. You want to drop him in his tracks, not have him run.”
The cattle were coming along. It sounded like they were moving faster now. They must smell water and that would be the direction they would take. Scrub Pot drove along as he usually did, that same sour look on his face . Now under the wagon seat his was perched on, trouble was brewing. Those glass jars of boysenberry jam that Angus Watson set such store by were heating up and building up a dangerous charge. With the sound of the wagon wheels and the cattle, Scrub Pot never heard the tell tale hissing of a canning seal gone bad and there were more than one.

Well, the deer walked right into my sights. “You got him,” Doc whispered “Get your aim, push the bolt forward , and squeeze off the shot.” I did as instructed and as the carbine fired, not more than five hundred yards away, there was an explosion at the front of the chuck wagon. The deer leaped into the air, over top of Doc and me and was gone in seconds. I had no idea where the shot had gone until I saw the chuck wagon coming way by too fast. The mules were running away and Scrub Pot, covered in a bright red stain was trying to get control of them. “I’ve shot the cook!”, I cried. Doc and I ran for our horses and went after the run away wagon. Sam Dodge would have me hanged for shooting that old Indian. Oh this was going to be real bad and I prayed as we chased that wagon down that the old man was not hurt seriously. Then, out of no where, there was Sam and she was pushing that stud harder than I had ever seen him pushed before. The three of us converged on the wagon at once. It was worse than a nightmare. Scrub Pot was cursing as he tried to stop the runaways, and he appeared to be covered with blood. Doc got a hold on the side of the wagon, left his saddle and climbed in. I kept up with them and saw Sam do the same thing Doc had done. Seconds later, Sam had hold of the mules and between her and Doc they were getting them to slow down. But in all the commotion, Sam’s hat had blown off and that long dark braid fell down her back. With the wagon stopped, Scrub Pot seemed to be fighting with both Doc and Sam. “Get off me!,” he shouted “Both of you!. Who was the idiot that fired that gun!”
“Are you hit?” Doc asked as he touched the bright red stain on the back of the old man’s shoulder. The substance was sticky and suddenly Doc started to laugh. “It’s jam,” he hee hawed “He ain’t shot! The boss’s jam exploded!.” Needless to say, I was greatly relieved as I slid off Mud and joined them at the side of the chuck wagon. “Just like I told him it would,” Scrub Pot added in disgust, “It scared the mules, Wakeeze has run off and look at my wagon!”
“Look at you!,” Doc declared, “We thought you were hit when we shot at a deer.” The old man grimaced at him. “Did you get it?”
“No,” Doc replied “Bently missed by a country mile .” That was when Sam realized I was standing right there and had seen everything. I now knew her secret. All eyes fell on the hat that had landed in the dust at Mud’s feet. Scrub Pot looked up at me, a worried expression on his weathered face. Sam stood still, there on the wagon seat and for a moment I thought I saw uncertainty in her eyes, but then she glowered at us. “What is the matter with the three of you?”, she snapped as she captured her long dark braid and carefully wound it up on the crown of her head. “Give me my hat! Haven’t you seen an Indian girl before?” Doc did not seem at all surprised, like may be he had known all along about Sam’s masquerade. Scrub Pot retrieved the hat and handed it to her. She jammed it onto her head, covering her hair and tugged the brim down, then tied the leather strings so it was secure. “All right, Bently,” she said firmly “Now you know the truth. What will you do?”
I was still kind of flabbergasted as I looked up at her, there, still standing on the wagon seat, the blue Texas sky behind her as the dust settled. “Well,” I said after a moment “ I see no reason to tell anybody. You do a fine job and I really don’t think Watson can make it to Kansas without you, Sam. Besides that, I have learned a great deal of valuable information from you.”
You know, Sam Dodge was a down right attractive woman with her sparkling brown eyes and that shining almost black hair. I would have to say she was beautiful, right down to the stubborn set of her jaw. “You can trust me.”, I said “ I will keep your secret.”
I thought I saw relief in her eyes. “My name is Samantha Ann Dodge,” she said “I am head wrangler, and ram rod of this out fit and I intend to stay that way till we reach Abilene. Just because I am a woman , does not mean I can not do this job and finish it. Scrub Pot is my grandfather and Doc is my uncle and I am one fourth Blackfoot. That is my story.”
Now it all was clear, the silent steps, the expert horsemanship, her uncanny sixth sense that enabled her to sense things before they happened and the way she always looked at me, like she could read my mind. That explained it all, Sam Dodge was an Indian and proud of it. Come to think of it, so was I. Sam was quite a woman, that was for sure. “You will make sure no one touches my granddaughter,” Scrub Pot growled at me.. “I will kill any man who disrespects her.” From the look in his dark eyes, I knew he meant every word.


PORTERSVILLE, THE OKLAHOMA TERRITORY.


Jake Titus was a lawyer and his profession had made him a very important person in the small town of Portersville. He was also pretty handy with a gun, so when the sherif needed some help with rounding up a bunch of horse thieves or rustlers, he’d deputized Titus and that was where all the trouble began. Now it seemed that sheriffs didn’t last very long in Portersville. There had been a few previous to this one. His name was still on the door of the jail, but he was nowhere to be found. He’d been missing for a while now and Deputy Titus was doing all he could to help keep up with law enforcement and head up the fruitless searches for Sherif Dunham too. He was rushed from the moment he got up in the morning to 7:30 at night when he went to bed. This had to stop or Jake Titus was going to lose his mind and his law practice.
Victoria Langford set out two freshly baked cherry pies that had cooled nicely and were ready to slice and serve to her customers. Her small bake shop had become a big success in the town and a day did not go by that she didn’t reap in the benefits brought by her talents as a great cook and baker. On Wednesdays people lined up for her pies and to get a cup of her specially blended coffee with it. Of course, the men were respectful of the pretty blonde widow because if they weren’t, they knew they’d get a derringer in the ribs and thrown out into the street and not by any barroom bouncer, but by the lady herself. Victoria’s back room, behind the kitchen had been converted into a saloon and she made not bones about it. Business was business and this lady knew how to handle herself.
Jake Titus looked dusty and disheveled as he slid off the back of his bay mule, Molly. It had been a long dusty ride out to check leads on possible sightings of Sherif Dunham. Nothing, and Titus was getting tired of the endless paper work, locking up drunks and holding the harder cases for the circuit Judge next month. Then it would be a quick clean up at his house, a fast meal and then over to his law office to see his latest clients.
The bell over the door of “Victoria’s Bake Shop” jingled as Titus walked in. “Good morning, Jake,” Victoria said as she finished cutting her pies. “Have you been out long today?”
“I rode out to the mesquite grove near Tyler Springs,” he said “I could use a cup of your coffee, Vick,” he said.
“How about some pie with it, “ she suggested as she poured the cup and placed it in front of him. “Any sign of Dunham?”
“Nothing,” Titus replied “And yes I will take that pie.”
“How’s your wife?”, Victoria asked.
“Still writing those dime novels,” Titus replied “She has been working on one for a while now.”
“Well, I hope she gets it printed soon,” Victoria said as she set a plate with his pie in front of him. “We sure enjoyed the last one.”
“I don’t know where she comes up with this stuff,” Titus said “But I have to admit, it is pretty good.”
“Some folks are born with a talent like that,” Victoria replied as she handed him a fork and a napkin.
“You got anything good in the back room, Vick?” he asked.
“Sure do,” she replied “Got a shipment in just yesterday.
Titus smiled, “Then make this “Irish Coffee” for me.” She smiled as she opened the door of her kitchen. “Be right back, Jake..” she said. When she returned, she had a shot glass full of Irish whisky in her hand, which she added to Jake’s cup and then refilled it with more coffee.
“Thanks,” Jake said as he laid a five dollar gold piece on the counter.
“I’ll get your change.” she replied “And you are welcome.”


++++++++++++++++++++

Ranger Nathan Travis stopped at a Way Station to rest his horse for a while and try to find out anything he could about the man he’d been trailing since he left Austin. He had not seen Ned in nearly twenty years, but he had heard of him and seen his wanted poster plastered all over the walls of the many sherif’s and constable’s offices he frequented in his travels. Ned was a bad seed, he had known that since they were children together. He had to admit that when his parents divorced and his father took Ned and he stayed with his mother, he was relieved. Now all these years later, Nathan would have to arrest his twin and ultimately have to see him sent to prison or worse. “He made his choices,” Nathan mumbled to himself as he tied his sorrel’s reins to the hitching post outside the long building. “Can’t change the past.” A stout man with a checkered apron covering his overall and red underwear shirt appeared at the door. “Howdy,” the man said, his brown eyes going straight to the badge on Nathan’s black leather vest. “Say, we don’t get the rangers out here very often,” he added “Come on in. The Missus just took an apple pie out of the oven.”
That was an offer that Nathan could not turn aside. “Thanks, Mister,” he replied as he stepped up onto the planks of the crude front porch. “You looking for somebody?” the man asked as he showed Nathan in and to a table. Nathan removed his hat “ I might be,” he said slyly.
“I’ll get your pie,” the man said as he disappeared into the kitchen. Nathan looked around. The way station was built of logs and had obviously been there for a long time. It was not fancy, but that did not matter to him, he just wanted to rest after too long in the saddle and he had a hunch that maybe his brother had been here. In a few minutes, a middle aged woman with grey hair came out of the kitchen with a coffee pot in her hand. She set out a cup and saucer for Nathan and poured. “Mornin’ to you, ” she said “Your pie will be out in just a second.”
“Thanks,” Nathan replied as he placed the checkered napkin in his lap. As the woman started to walk away, she paused. “Say,” she said thoughtfully “You look like someone.” Nathan looked over the rim of his coffee cup. “Do I?”, he questioned. The woman returned to the edge of his table. “Yes, there was a man in here about a week ago. Why, he looked enough like you to be your brother.” That was the break Nathan had been looking for. “Any idea where this fellow headed?” he asked.
“No,” the woman replied, “But he looked like he had been in some kind of accident. He had burns on his face and hands.” As they spoke, there was a commotion outside in the yard. Nate’s horse side stepped and snorted . The dust rose from everywhere and the stage pulled in. Men set to work unhitching the horses and getting ready to harness fresh ones into the traces. The driver jumped down and opened the door of the coach as a lady dressed in black stepped out, taking his hand. She was a young widow returning to Porterville. “It’s a half hour, ma’am” he advised as he tipped his hat. “Thank you”, she drawled. Her name was Bradford, the widow, Mrs. Frances Bradford. She was not a tall woman, nor could you say she was short. Her hair was a shiny auburn under her black bonnet and she looked elegant in her black dress. She sure caught Nathan Travis’s attention when she walked into the way station. What woman would not be impressed with a Texas Ranger, he thought as he finished his pie. With crumbs on his mustache, he rose to his feet as the woman walked passed toward an empty table.
“Would you care to sit here, Ma’am”, Nate asked as he gestured to the empty chair opposite where he had been sitting. “The coffee is good,” he added. The widow looked up at him, her brown eyes settling on his face instead of his badge. “Handsome,” she thought to herself “and a ranger too.” “Thank you , sir,”she said as he pulled out the chair for her. Frances seated herself across from him and smiled “It’s been a tedious trip,” she said “I am glad for a break in that long and dusty ride.”
“Where you headed?,” Nate asked “If you don’t mind me asking” He was a Texas Ranger, not Jesse James. “Portersville,” she replied as the woman arrived with the coffee pot. “I live there.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Nate thought of the widow he had met at the way station as he rode on and hoped he might see her again when he reached Porterville, near the edge of the Oklahoma territory. In the mean time, he had a job to do and a criminal to catch and bring to justice. He was sure that Ned has been at the way station. Time was running out. Nathan had to catch him and stop him from killing Sam Dodge and Scrub Pot, or more likely himself after what the ranger had heard about a man who looked like him but had burns from gun powder on his hands and face. “Fool never got himself a good pistol,” Nathan commented as he urged his horse into a trot. “It’s a wonder he ain’t shot himself.”
Now Ned was feeling a little better after his shooting accident, and he had found himself a decent pistol and stolen a new horse, so he was on his way to accomplish his mission. He thought Indians were stupid and once he caught up with the cattle drive, he would pick off Scrub Pot and that arrogant Sam Dodge one by one and return to Grants Creek to collect the rest of his money. Then he would head for Mexico. He’d always wanted to go there. He’d find himself a senorita, some tequila and then he’d lay low. Besides, who would care about an old Indian anyway or that half breed. Oh, Ned, Ned, you poor misguided and lost soul.. That was the worst mistake a man could make, especially in dealing with one as crafty as Scrub Pot. Ned was not far behind the herd and he’d wait for the right time to make his move. First the old man and then the girl. It was starting to get dark and he was tired so he decided to find a place off the trail to spend the night. He was not crazy about sleeping under the stars, but that was all there was out on the trail and it did not look like it was going to rain. The last thing he expected was to settle in and the be surrounded by Indians. “Pawnee!”


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


‘That was a surprise,” I commented to Doc as we headed back to our work at rounding up strays. “But I kind of knew she was keeping a secret.”
“That girl was a darn fool to do this,” Doc stated “That is why I came along. She is as tough as an armadillo and knows critters better than I do, but you get a woman around a bunch of men and it’s down right dangerous.”
“She seems determined to succeed , getting the job done,” I said.
“She is,” Doc replied “My sister was her mother and I’d hoped Sam might lose that Blackfoot streak she ‘s got, but that never happened. She is Indian stubborn, and been that way since she was a little papoose.”
“May be that is what I find attractive about her,” I answered “She’s real smart too.”
“Yeah,” Doc replied proudly “and pretty, like her Ma was. But I warn you Bently, my niece would be a handful to any man who’d tangle with her.”
I was asking too many questions about private matters that did not concern me, so I changed the subject to horses and cattle, not the fact that Samantha Ann Dodge was a very beautiful woman and I had a lot of respect for her. But when it came to women, after Alva Jane and Bart’s lies, I was more than a little gun shy. I had no idea that down the road a ways, in the misty future, I would see about every man who had come to know Sam Dodge lining up to make a proposal or ask her Grandfather’s blessing. I liked her alright, but I could not see myself there in line with the rest. “That would go over like a fart in church,” I muttered to myself.
“What?” Doc questioned . I did not realize that I had spoken my thoughts out loud.
“Nothing,” I said, a little embarrassed “Just thinking out loud.” At the time I had no idea that the line of suitors I had imagined asking for Sam’s hand had already begun to form and it had everything to do with that young Indian who was riding along side of the now red stained chuck wagon, conversing in Blackfoot, with Scrub Pot. That mare he was on was striking, even a green horn like me could tell that she was a truly fine horse. Scrub Pot was looking at that mare Little Fox called Deseret Rose. She was a beauty all right, the perfect match for Sam’s stallion, Trouble. , but Little Fox was no match for Scrub Pot’s grand daughter. If she ever expected to own the Flying S Ranch, Little Fox would not be the best choice for a husband.
However, the boy was sincere. He was the youngest of Scrub Pot’s long time friend Wolf Standing’s two sons. He had known both boys since they were born. There was Kane, the eldest who had left the reservation at Bear Claw , to seek his fortune as a black smith, and Little Fox who had grown up with Sam and gone to school with her. Scrub Pot listened to the boy talk and found it hard to believe how time had changed him from the unexpected papoose his mother carried around on her back to the fine young man he had become. Where had the time gone? He smiled as he remembered Sam taking her first steps and holding his hands and how Alice’s loving smile still warmed him in his loneliness.
“Samantha Ann is who I want to marry”, Little Fox said firmly.
“She is wild, boy,” Scrub Pot cautioned “Rides a horse like a warrior. She will be hard to handle.”
“She is beautiful, “ the young man said. Scrub Pot was still looking at the mare as he pulled his wagon to a stop. “I will rest my mules and get water for Wakeeze,” he said. “You stay.”
A look of hope sprang into the young man’s eyes as Scrub Pot climbed down from the wagon box and untied his bucket next to the water keg. “Wakeeze is old,” Little Fox commented, “But still looks like a fine war horse.” Scrub Pot filled the bucket with water and walked to the back of his wagon to untie his paint and give him a drink. “Wakeeze is my friend,” he said “He has been for many years.” While the big paint drank from the wooden bucket, Scrub Pot went over Little Fox’s mare. “Sam is worth many horses,” he said as he ran his hands down the mare’s front leg. “You will need many, like this one.”
“How many?”, Little Fox asked worriedly
“Forty,” Scrub Pot relied as he finished his assessment.
“But that is too many,!,” Little Fox cried in dismay, “It will take me weeks to catch that many horses. I want to marry Sam NOW!”
“You want my granddaughter?”, Scrub Pot said firmly “Forty horses is my bride price for Sam. Now go home , gather the horses and tell your father that we will meet when Sam and I return to Grants Creek.” Little Fox thought for a moment asking himself if he could round up all those horses, let alone find ones the same quality as Desert Rose was. However, the young man could not forget Sam’s sparkling brown eyes or her gentle smile or how she handled horses and he knew he wanted her for his own. “I will bring the horses to Grant’s Creek,” the young man promised.
“You will only need 39,” Scrub Pot said as he took the reins of Little Fox’s mare from him.
“Why 39?,” the young man questioned.
“Because I will keep this mare as a betrothal gift and promise of payment for the others,” Scrub Pot stated. He led the mare to the rear of his wagon and tired her next to his paint. “You have another horse to ride home, boy?”
“Back at camp,” Little Fox said “I have my brother’s paint.”
“Good,” Scrub Pot stated “Go home and prepare for your wedding.”
The young man was so pleased that his suit had been accepted that he dashed off at a run to meet his companions and tell them the news.
Scrub Pot grunted his approval as he filled his water bucket for the mare.
That was when Doc rode up to the wagon wiping the sweat and dust from his face with his red bandanna. “Sam is going to have a fit,” he said as he pushed his hat back. “And give me some of that water too.” Scrub Pot reached into the back of his wagon and pulled out a metal dipper and handed it to Doc. “Sam wants a good mare,” he said “Now she has one.”
“And what about Little Fox?”, Doc asked “He thinks he is going to be getting married to Sam when we get home.”
“No,” the old man grunted “He will find someone and forget all about Sam by the time we get home to Grant’s Creek. He is young, and it takes many weeks to catch forty horses.”
Doc slid off his horse and went to the water keg and filled the dipper. “You are a sly old coot,” he said as he took a drink and then splashed the rest into his face. “That is a nice mare, but Sam is going to kill you when she finds out what you have done.”
“She will marry, “ Scrub Pot said “But not just any man.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“May be.”
“She is still going to be furious.”
“Yes, but she will like the mare.”


++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ned Travis dashed out of the woods, wearing only his dingy one piece underwear. He had to leave everything behind, least he awaken the squaw who had kept him captive most of the night. It would seem that Bird That Talks and her band of stragglers has come upon him as they traveled just behind the Hinkley Cattle. Now he’d lost his horse and almost his hearing. No matter, he’d steal another one, some clothes and a gun and he’d be on his way. But first things first, the clothes. A man in his underwear is a sure sign that something is dead wrong and attracts all kinds of unwanted attention. As he walked on, his bare feet stinging, he cursed that small band of Indians. He wanted to get this job done. In the meantime, he would be more careful about where he chose to spend future nights on the trail. As soon as he found what he needed, he would be back on the trail of his query. Once he killed those two Indians for Hinkley, he’d go back to Grant’s Creek and collect his blood money. Then head for Mexico. As he walked along, he entertained himself with fantasies of beautiful senoritas dancing and bottles of good Mexican tequila. All he had to do was catch up with the herd and get rid of Sam Dodge and Scrub Pot. He’d walked about a two miles when he heard the welcome sound of a wagon coming along. Maybe this would turn out to be his lucky day after all. He waited about ten minutes and sure enough, a freight wagon drawn by six mules came around the bend in the road. The mules were trotting along at a good even place. Obviously this driver had a schedule to meet and was headed for the nearest town. The mule skinner squinted into the distance, not at all sure that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. A man in his underwear, at the side of the road, waving his arms wildly.
The wagon began to slow down. “Guess I won’t make it in to Portersville in time to meet Frances at the Bake Shop,” he sighed as he drew the mules to a stop. He looked down from the wagon seat at the man standing on the side of the road. “Howdy,” he said “You got some trouble?”
“You bet I do,” Ned replied “Indians. Took everything.”
“Well, not everything,” the man replied “You still got your ridge runners.”
Ned scowled at him. Not finding any humor in his remark. “Are you heading for the next town?”, he asked.
“Yes,”the man replied “Got a shipment of whiskey for the saloon and dry goods for the mercantile.” Hmm? Dry goods.?. That was just what Ned needed. “I’ve got family in town,” Ned lied “Can I ride with you? This is down right embarrassing.” The wagon driver chuckled to himself. “Well, we all have our misfortunes,” he said as he moved over to the side of the wagon box. “Come on, mister. Climb up and I’ll take you where you need to go. “
”Much obliged ,” Ned replied as he scrambled into the seat, his eyes on the Winchester, at the man’s feet. “Oh yes, this was going to be his lucky day after a not so lucky night.

++++++++++++++++++++

Now Doc was not one to pass up a trip to town. He’d ridden on ahead to Portersville with a list of supplies from Scrub Pot and Sam. Things seemed real quiet when he rode down the main street, except for a dusty looking man who was hurriedly tying his mule to the hitching rail in front of a law office. “Howdy,” Doc said as he rode up to him. The man was jockeying a stack of files and papers and fooling with the reins of his mule. “Mornin’,” he said “Welcome to Portersville. “ Doc stopped by the hitching rail. “Is there a place around here where a man could find some breakfast”, he asked. “Maybe a saloon?”
“Well, we don’t really have a saloon to speak of here,” the man said as he fumbled in his pocket with his free hand, searching for his keys. “But Miss Victoria has a really good bake shop just up the street and around the corner. Will you be staying long?”
“No,” Doc answered “I am with the Hinkley Cattle Drive, set to come through here is a day or so. I’m here to get supplies for the crew.”
“The mercantile is across the street from Victoria’s,” the man said as he unlocked the door of his office. “My name is Jake Titus,” he said “I am kind of standing in for the sherif these days.”
“Doc,” Doc replied as he noticed the man looking at pearl handle of his gun, then up at him. “You’re Doc Stevens!,” he said “Aren’t you?
“Let’s not make that public, Mr. Titus”, Doc defended “I don’t care for the attention my name causes. “
”During the war,” Titus said “I saw you, when you were Captain Elliot Stevens. I was to be one of your sharp shooters, but Appomattox happened and I never got to my assigned unit.”
“Always felt the war should have been extended, Mr. Titus,” Doc replied “Lee surrendered and I sent my men home, and ended up in Texas.”
“Well, let me buy you a cup of coffee,” Jake said. “I will leave these files on my desk and be right with you.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The bell above the door of the bake shop jingled, letting Victoria Langford know that she had a customer. She closed the oven door on the batch of cookies she was baking and wiped her hands on the front of her apron. She had been working since early that morning, filling a large order for the local the upcoming church social. She had most of her tins filled, just a few more to go and then she could sit down for a while. Turning from the stove Victoria and walked through the kitchen door but stopped short, when her eyes met those of the stranger standing beside Jake Titus.
“Mornin’, Victoria,” Jake said “Got the coffee on?” The delightful smell of baked goods and the aroma of fresh coffee wrapped the room in a warm welcoming atmosphere. Doc stared back at the woman standing behind the glass baker’s case.
“Vick?” Jake prompted , finding the crackling silence unsettling.
“Good morning, Jake,” Victoria replied as she shook of the feeling that had taken her breath away. “And welcome to my shop,” she addressed to the stranger. “I am Victoria Langford,” she added as she reached out her hand to greet him.
“I am charmed, Madame,” Doc replied as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. He was a bit disappointed when he realized she was wearing a wedding band. “My name is Elliot Stevens,” Doc said warmly, “My friends call me Doc.”
“Well gentlemen,” Victoria replied “What will it be?”
“Coffee and a slice of peach pie for me,” Jake chimed in, noticing there was quite an attraction between the man who had almost been his commanding officer and his friend Victoria.
“ I’ll have the same,” Doc replied. Victoria gestured to one of the café style tables in the corner of the shop. “Have a seat,” she said “I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks,” Doc replied hoping she would hurry. Since he met and courted his first wife , long ago, he did not recall feeling as he did when he laid eyes on Victoria Langford. Since Elizabeth’s death , Doc had kept to himself and gave no thought to home or family. He’d drifted for the last several years, working on the ranches here and there. He’d closed the chapter in his life when he had been a Texas Ranger and given it all up after hunting down the man who killed his brother in law and destroyed his sister’s family. He’d seen him hanged, then turned in his badge and disappeared.
Victoria returned with their order. Her smile was so warm and gentle, and Doc thought he had never seen anyone so welcoming or so beautiful. All the weeks on the trail and eating Scrub Pot’s cooking made this moment feel like a divine blessing. “How far away is the herd?” Jake asked as he forked into his pie.
“They are a few days behind me.” Doc answered as he watched Victoria walk across the room and disappear back into her kitchen. “Now that is what I call a woman.” he added. “Too bad she is married.”
“Victoria?” Jake replied as he raised his coffee cup “She ain’t married.”
“She’s got a ring on.,” Doc said, sounding a little disappointed.
“Most widows wear their wedding rings,” Jake said “ Her husband was killed at Shiloh and she never remarried. Victoria Langford is the best cook in these parts. She built this shop herself and has made it quite successful.
A cock eyed grin spread across Doc’s face after he tasted his pie. “A woman who can bake a peach pie like this and looks like an angel sure won’t be a widow for long,” he comented.
“She is a spit fire,” Jake cautioned “She doesn’t put up with any funny stuff..”
Doc just smiled, “It was almost as though his future had just been revealed to him. Suddenly the bell clanged again and a young woman dashed in, her face flushed. “Jake!” she cried “Jake! Come quickly!! Some one robbed the fright wagon and Alex has been knocked senseless.” Titus jumped up from the table and caught the woman as she nearly tripped on the hem of her skirt. “Take it easy, Franny girl,” he said “Now, calm down and tell me what happened.”
Doc was quick to realize, as Jake Titus talked with the woman that he was not only a lawyer, but a law man of sorts. He rose from his chair “Mr. Titus,” he said calmly “maybe you should deputize me.” When Jake turned to reply, Doc had never seen a man look so relieved as Jake Titus did.
“You mean...” he started.
“Yes,” Doc replied “Swear me in.” Victoria hurried out of the kitchen when she heard the commotion. “Fran!”, she cried seeing the frantic state her friend was in. “What happened?”
Fran sat down in an empty chair. “I left Alex at the Doc O’Brien’s office. He is going to be alright, but his wagon was robbed and the crook too his rifle.” Victoria got her friend a glass of cold water and sat down with her. “What happened to Alex?”, she asked.
“The robber hit him in the head with the butt of his rifle,” Fran replied worriedly “The doctor says I can take him home in a little while.” Victoria looked up at Jake Titus and then at Doc. “I hope you find the man who did this,” she said.
Doc tipped his hat. “Don’t worry , ma’am,” he said confidently “We will get him.” She watched after the two men as they left her shop and then turned back to Fran.
“Who was that man with Jake?”, Fran asked as she took a drink of the water Victoria had given her.
“Says his name is Elliot Stevens,” Victoria replied “Just rode into town this morning. He sure is a handsome fellow.”
“I’ll say,” Fran replied wickedly. Victoria smiled as she rose from her seat. “Let me get my shawl and I will go over to Doc O’Brien’s with you.” she said. “Poor Alex. I am sure he is upset.”
“He has been on the job for a month and never missed a day of work, and was never late coming in, “ Fran replied “Now he says he is done with it and will go back to punching cattle.”

In the dusty sherif’s office, Doc raised his right hand and agreed to up hold the laws , such as they were, of the Oklahoma territory. Jake Titus rummaged through the desk drawer and found a silver star badge.
“You’ll be needin’ this,” he said as he handed it to Doc. Doc looked at it for a moment as it lay in the palm of his hand, thinking of past. The law had been his calling and now he would own it again. “Well, lets get after it,” he said as he pinned the star to the breast pocket of his black shirt..
“Yup,” Titus replied as he reached for his gun belt which hung in its place within reach on the wall just behind the desk. “Can’t have Miss Frances all upset over her little brother like that.” As Doc watched out the window he saw a man on a big sorrel ride up to the hitching post and dismount. “Well. I’ll be a monkey’s butt,” he said “That’s Nate Travis. I haven’t seen him in while.”
Now, a few new folks had ridden into the city limits of Portersville , one of them was Ranger Travis. He had trailed his brother for quite some time, but Ned was crafty and had been able to evade him.


++++++++++++++++++++++


“You WHAT!!”, Sam shouted at Scrub Pot. The old man withstood his grand daughter’s rage. “I made the best decision,” he replied stoically. “You will have to accept what I have arranged.”
She was furious. “You have no right to make plans behind my back,” she spit “Especially when it comes to such things as who I may or may not marry one day. Little Fox is in need of a wife and I tell you flat out, Grandfather, that woman is NOT ME.”
“I know,” Scrub Pot replied calmly.
“What?”
“You heard me, Samantha Ann.” he said “Little Fox is not for you.”
“But you sent him off looking for horses to buy me with,” she stated “Needless to say, I am not for sale.”
“That is what I did,” Scrub Pot replied “And as he looks for them, his fire will cool and he will meet someone else. What I did, I have done for your future.”
“I can only imagine,” she said sarcastically.
“Come,” Scrub Pot said “I will show you.” Sam was burning with anger and feeling that her grandfather had threatened her independence as she followed him back to the wagons. There standing next to Wakeeze was the mare, Deseret Rose.
She stopped short, staring at her as though she could not believe she was real. “That mare and Trouble are your future, Sam,” he said “The moment I saw her I knew that she matched him in every way. She is young and will breed well. “ Sam never cried, even when she was a little girl. She was Indian stubborn and never gave in, even when it hurt, but as she walked over to the mare, tears were in her eyes. “How did you?”, she started to say as the mare nickered and raised her head from the grass to sniff her out stretched hand.
“Some things are meant to be, Granddaughter,” Scrub Pot said “The mare is one of them.”
“But you cheated Little Fox,” she said.
“No,” Scrub Pot replied “Wolf Standing has owed me for a filly he took last year. I took Deseret Rose as payment of the debt. He will understand and honor it.”
“Little Fox has been my friend for a long time,” Sam said quietly “as she watched the mare grazing peacefully next to the wagon. She could almost see a foal standing next to her. “I can’t wait to get this job done and get her and Trouble back to my ranch.”, she said. “But I am not marrying Little Fox.”
“I do not expect you will, Grand daughter,” Scrub Pot replied “Now go on , I have work to do.”

+++++++++++++++++

Scrub Pot set about organizing his wagon , taking note that he was down on all his supplies. He hoped that Doc would not be too long collecting all the things he had sent him on ahead for. Humming to himself, he turned from the back of his wagon and run smack into Bird That Talks. How long had she been standing there? He did not like the look in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Hello,” she said “I have not been able to visit you lately. My, that is a beautiful mare you have! Is she yours? I must ride her sometime. She is just like a mare I had years ago and...” Scrub Pot threw his hands over his ears. “Why are you here, woman!”, he demanded “I told you to go back to your people and leave me alone.”
She acted a though she had never heard him. “Who was that you were talking to,” she said , a sting of jealousy in her voice. “You have no respect for me at all, as you did not introduce me.” Scrub Pot glared at her, his patience growing thinner by the second, but then, he remembered Angus Watson.
”I did not mean to be rude,” he said to her, speaking in their native language “ I have had a bad day. That was the ram rod you saw. Dodge is his name.”
“Oh,” Bird That Talks replied. “I thought I saw a girl.”
“No girl., “ he growled “Just Sam Dodge. Do you have a moment, so we could talk?”, he asked trying to keep his annoyance to himself.
“Of course,” the fat squaw replied “I have all the time in the world. Why the other night, we came upon a man. My two sons took his horse and everything. I talked to him for a while, but by morning he had disappeared. I still have his boots. “ Scrub Pot wished he could disappear too, but he had a job to do. Sam was the only person capable of bringing the herd into Abilene and there was no doubt in his mind that she could do it on her own. Watson was dragging them down and had proved to be totally ineffective in his job as trail boss. The men were getting disgusted with him and were starting to rally around Sam. Scrub Pot knew what he had to do since there was no way an Indian cook could fire the trail boss. They had a long way to go and bad weather was sure to come and he did not want anything to stand between Sam and her success. “There is someone I would like you to meet,” he said to the rotund woman, who was now wearing a man’s boots instead of the moccasins he’d seen her in earlier. Bird That Talks batted her dark eyes. “Who?”, she chirped “A friend of yours? She followed him to the front of the wagon and took note of the red stains all over the front of the canvas cover. “What happened?” she asked as she touched the sticky mess. “Don’t ask,” Scrub Pot growled “Sit down here by the wagon and watch Wakeeze and that mare for me. I will go find my friend and introduce you to him.”
“Oh! A HIM!!”, she cried “How nice! Is he handsome? Is he rich? Do you think he will like me!!” Scrub Pot wanted to scream at her, but instead he gritted his teeth and ground out a smile, “I think he will love you,” he said, praying that his plan would work.
“Oh good!” she cried “Go get him. I will freshen up. I have to look my best, you know.”
“Buffalo cow needs no grooming,” he hissed to himself “Plenty fat and ugly too.” He looked back at her and pasted on a smile. “Wait here,” he said “I will be right back.” She batted her eyes again and smiled, “Don’t be long,” she said demurely, her smile and manner flirtatious.
“God forgive me for what I am about to do,” Scrub Pot breathed as he went in search of Angus Watson. He knew he was close by as he had seen his horse was back with the remuda. In a short while, he found Angus, stretched out at the edge of a brook, napping in the sun. “While my Granddaughter works, you sleep,” he said to himself. He wanted to kick the man. “I have the woman waiting back at my wagon,” he said. Watson snored loudly and turned over on his side. “I said, I have the woman you want waiting “ Scrub Pot shouted. Watson was on his feet in seconds, scrambling for his gun until he realized it was Scrub Pot standing on the rocks next to the water. “Oh,” he said “It’s you. What do you want?”
“You wanted to meet my old friend,” Scrub Pot said “she is here now.”
His blue eyes filled with interest. “The woman who came to camp the other night?”
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied “Come, I will introduce you.”
Suddenly Angus was nervous. “I need to freshen up a bit, lad,” he said “I want to make a good impression on that fair lassie.”
“I am sure you will,” Scrub Pot replied “Come quickly. There was a young brave here earlier who wanted to meet her. Probably wants to marry her.”
“No!” Watson protested “I’ll not stand for that!”
“Well, “ Scrub Pot lied “A woman like her is rare and when I was young, I almost married her myself.”
Watson scowled at him “You have no interest in her now do you,” he questioned.
“No,” Scrub Pot answered “I will tell her you are coming and I will chase that young brave away.”
“Aye,” Watson replied “See that you do.”
Smiling to himself, Scrub Pot walked away knowing Watson would be right behind him. Now, where had he put his bible? He had not performed a wedding in quite a while but knew he could. He was anxious to officiate, for this wedding would rid him of Bird That Talks once and for all.
At the edge of the brook, Watson knelt down to wash his face and slicked down his hair as best he could. For days and days he had dreamed of meeting Bird That Talks. Now was his chance and he hoped the outcome would be of a positive nature. He caught up with Scrub Pot just before he crossed the clearing to where the chuck wagon was. “Is she as fair as she was the first time I laid eyes on her , lad,” Watson asked nervously?
“I am sure she is even more so,,” Scrub Pot lied. As the two men approached the wagon, Bird That Talks , with much effort pulled herself to her feet. She was intrigued by Angus’s wet but still curly red hair. As their eyes met, Angus was star struck. “An angel,” he breathed as he gazed at her. Scrub Pot was finding it very hard to keep a straight face. He motioned for Bird That Talks to come. She was gazing at Watson’s blue eyes, a dreamy expression in her own. “Angus Watson,” Angus said as he reached out and took her chubby hand in his and raised it to his lips. “This is Bird that Squawks,” Scrub Pot said, trying to sound cordial. “Talks!,” the squaw spit back at him in annoyance, “Bird That Talks.”
“No,” Angus replied “Bird that sings beautiful songs.” Scrub Pot was thinking that he should go check on Wakeeze and the mare and leave these two alone, before their actions caused him to become nauseated. Nature would take its course and undoubtedly in a day or two, he would be preforming that wedding he was so anxious for. “I will see you both for supper,” he said as he walked away. He was sure the last thing that Angus Watson and the squaw were thinking of was food. His plan had worked and he would have peace again.
Well, the men came in for the night around six in the evening, and the night watch went out, but no one saw the trail boss or the Pawnee squaw. As Scrub Pot was washing up the last of the tin plates and forks, Sam came up to him, her log book under her arm. “Have you seen Watson?”, she asked “I need to talk to him about tomorrow’s plans.”
Scrub Pot kept on washing. “Not seen him,” he lied.
“I will rough out a route,” Sam said “We should be getting close to the border. I want to let the herd graze for a day or so once we cross into the Oklahoma territory.”
“Portersville in close, Granddaughter,” Scrub Pot said “The men will want to have time off in town.”
“That is what I am afraid of, “ Sam said worriedly “You saw how they behaved in Grants Creek. Most of them ended up in jail.”
“What about Bently?”, Scrub Pot asked .
“He doesn’t drink,” Sam replied “I think I can count on him.” Scrub Pot smiled “Yes,” he said “I think that you can. He is a good man.” Sam just shook her head and walked away. “Jerrod Bently is a green horn.”
“But he has learned a great deal since we started,” Scrub Pot said. “I saw him rope a steer earlier today.”
“Good for him,” Sam answered half disgusted as she untied Trouble’s reins from the wagon and climbed into the saddle. “I am going out to check on the riders,” she added.
Scrub Pot grunted his answer and watched her ride away.

+++++++++++++++++

Now Ned Travis had just about everything he needed to carry out his felonious plans. He’d cold cocked the freight driver, stolen boots, slickers, hats, pants, shirts and chaps and that Winchester rifle the driver had had with him when he picked him up. Ned was all set, he’d found a good hiding place and soon enough he would get a shot off at either Sam or Scrub Pot or both, but he still needed a horse. Then he would make his get away. He crept up on the edge of the camp and silently looked over the remuda. He needed something fast, and those horses looked played out. That was when he saw that sorrel mare grazing next to a black and white paint near the chuck wagon and a evil smile crept across his face. Ned moved toward them, hoping to not attract any attention and get the horses excited. His eye was on Desert Rose but she was mighty close to that big black and white paint. As he was calculating his move, he had not expected Sam Dodge to ride in to camp just as he began making his way toward the picket line. He could have had her. She would have been in the cross hairs of his stolen Winchester and he could have shot her off the back of her horse, had he remembered to bring the rifle with him. It was still back in the thicket where he’d been hiding waiting for his chance to steal a horse. He cursed to himself. He had heard how deadly Sam Dodge was with a knife and if she saw him, he would sure find out fast that all the rumors he’d heard about her were true. He elected to slip back into his cover, get his rifle and wait for the right moment. He watched her dismount from the back of that big sorrel stud and tie his reins to the wheel of the chuck wagon. On seeing Trouble, tacked and standing there riderless, Ned changed his mind about the mare. That stud was all he’d need.. A strong horse like that would help him make his get away and then carry him on to the Mexican border after he got what was due him from Roger Hinkley. Silently he watched and waited. Sam climbed into the back of the wagon, apparently looking for something or someone. Ten minutes passed . Ned only needed a second to get on that horse and ride way. Sam had still not appeared, so he decided to make his move.
Now Sam had raised Trouble from the day he was born and lost his mother shortly afterward. She had trained him and been his only rider for the last four years. You might say that Trouble, was a one cowgirl horse. Too bad for Ned, that he did not know that as he crept forward ready to steal Trouble and commit the crimes he’d been trying to commit for a while now. He crept along, dragging the Winchester behind him and very sure he had not been seen by anyone. Trouble sensed something out of the ordinary and began to nicker and move around. Ned made it to the side of the wagon and carefully untied the reins. A second later he was in the saddle. At first Trouble looked stunned as he realized someone other than Sam was on his back. Ned jerked the reins, wrenching him around for a quick get away. Sam heard her stallion’s scream of rage and flew out of the back of the wagon, her long hair down on her shoulders. Suddenly she froze amid step toward her stallion. The man on her horse glared and aimed his rifle at her. She shouted something in Blackfoot and Trouble whirled around, bucking and throwing his heels high into the air. The carefully aimed rifle went flying , hitting the ground and discharging harmlessly. The man was still hanging on as Trouble bucked and reared wildly. Sam ran to get Scrub Pot’s shot gun.. But it was gone from it’s place. That was the moment she heard the roar that gun always made when her Grandfather fired it. It all happened so fast. She heard the man howling in pain, and saw him trying to run as he hit the ground, holding onto his behind, and tattered dungarees.. She saw her grandfather about fifty yards to her left, the shot gun still smoking. Terrified, Trouble ran off riderless into the gathering dusk. Ned was trying to crawl away. His rear was on fire from the blast of rock salt he had taken. As he attempted to continue crawling away, a pair of black soled Indian boots appeared in his line of vision. . Fearfully he looked up and saw the murderous rage on Scrub Pot’s face. “We found your hiding place,” he said “Bently saw you skulking around, horse thief. Now you try to kill my grand daughter and take her horse. Why?”
I grabbed the man by his arm and yanking him to his feet. “You better answer him,” I said as I watched Scrub Pot draw his hunting knife.
“I have to kill her”, Ned ground out “and you too, old man.” I watched the old warrior’s eyes go black as he grabbed Ned by the hair. “I have taken many scalps in my time, horse thief,” he hissed “One more will not matter.”
The outlaw yelped in pain. “You shot me, you red devil!,” he cried “Isn’t that enough??”
“Yes, I shot you,” Scrub Pot replied “With rock salt. Hurt’s doesn’t it. Should sting and burn for quite a while.” He then yanked Ned’s head backward. “Who sent you?”, he demanded.
“Hinkley,” Ned cried, terrified by the sharp blade of the knife the old Indian held.
“I thought so,” Scrub Pot replied. looking up at me as I held the struggling man. “You ever see a man scalped, Jerrod Bently”, he asked, that strange and evil look burning in his dark eyes.
“No, “ I replied and I was not anxious to see it either. I wanted the outlaw to pay for what he had done. I had seen him with the rifle aimed at Sam, and in the act of stealing her horse. But not this way. Murder was murder to my way to thinking. Scrub Pot turned to Sam who was already up on Wakeeze’s back and had a lead rope on the mare. “Are you alright, Samantha,” Scrub Pot asked.
“Yes, Grandfather,” she replied. I could tell she was shaken by this turn of events.
“Go get your horse, Sam,” he said “He will not stray far once he realizes the mare is close by. I watched her ride off in silence, leading Desert Rose behind her and leaving Scrub Pot and me to deal with this would be murderer and horse thief. “Scrub Pot,” I said “We need to get Mr. Watson. He is the boss and he will have to handle this. We do not want to do murder just because this fool tried.”
“Watson is gone, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot replied “I doubt he will be back any time soon. Sam is the law here until we get to Portersville and then we’ll turn this son of a snake over to the sherif . Hopefully they will hang him right away.”
“You mean you ain’t going to scalp me?,” Ned interjected.
“Indian law is harsh for dealing with a horse thief and worse for one who plots the murder of another, “ Scrub Pot said “But I have lived in the white-man’s world for too many years. Tie him up, Jerrod Bently, and make sure he can not escape.”
I did what Scrub Pot has asked me to do and I was very sure that the bad guy , Ned Travis, was not at all comfortable when I got done. His butt was burning like fire from the rock salt blast Scrub Pot had hit him with. Well, a man like that, who would attempt murder and horse stealing didn’t deserve to be comfortable in my book so I left him with Scrub Pot to guard him. As I walked back to where I’d left Mud , I found Sam’s hat lying on the ground. When I saw that rifle trained on her I thought I would die right there in the bushes next to Scrub Pot. I could not imagine what it would be like without seeing her every day and... Well, I guess I had feelings for Sam, now that I knew she was a girl. But as I said, I was gun shy and Sam was nothing like any girl I’d ever known before. I picked up her hat.
“Go find her, Jerrod Bently.,” I heard Scrub Pot say as I rode passed him. I set my spurs to my horse’s sides and rode off at a gallop in the direction I’d seen Sam take.
I caught up with her not too far from camp. She was sitting cross legged , as Indian’s do on the ground under a tree. Wakeeze was about a hundred yards away grazing while Trouble stood proudly beside the new mare as she grazed. I sat on Mud’s back just looking at them for a few minutes. Those two horses made a striking pair.
“He came right too me,” Sam said quietly “As soon as he knew it was me and Wakeeze, he wasn’t scared anymore.” Then she looked up at me “Please tell me that my grandfather did not kill that man.”
“No,” I answered “But he sure wanted to. Are you all right, Sam? He had a gun on you. I was scared that he was going to shoot you.”
When she did not answer I got off my horse and sat down next to her. “You are all right, aren’t you?” I asked again.
“Yes,” she said quietly “He never got a chance to fire. I told Trouble to get him off his back, and he heard me.”
“ I found your hat,” I said as I handed it to her. “ It was at the back of the wagon.”
“Thanks Bently,” she said, trying to smile at me.
“I didn’t think the rest of the boys needed to see you with your hair down,” I added. She began to braid those shiny dark tresses of hers . “What do you think?”, she asked as she worked. “Should I tell the crew who I really am?
“That is up to you Sam,” I said “I think you are a capable, hard working and very beautiful woman. I gave you my word the other day that I would not give up your secret.”
“I believe that you are becoming a real cowboy, Jerrod,” she replied “Now, help me collect my horses and let’s go back.” She started to get up, but I caught her by the hand. She looked at me like I’d never seen her look before. First there was anger in her eyes, than something else, something soft and sweet. That was the first time I ever kissed her...Something I had been wanting to do for a while. I figured she’d slap me or worse, but instead she kissed me back and suddenly, I knew all the way down to my boot heels that one day I’d marry that feisty cow girl. I think Scrub Pot knew it too because when we came back to camp with all the horses, he had a smile on his face. As we passed him on the way to the picket line, that smile turned into a grin.
Around the fire that night, the drovers told their stories and speculated about what was to be done with the horse thief Scrub Pot and I caught. Sam sat down on one of the wooden crates near the wagon. She was going over some old maps and smiled when she saw that by tomorrow night, we would cross over into the Oklahoma territory. No one had seen Angus Watson all day. His horse was still in its place and had not been moved. It seemed that our Scottish trail boss had vanished into thin air. I think Scrub Pot knew far more about Watson’s disappearance than he was letting on. But the time for him to tell us about what had become of Watson had not come yet. We would soon be in vastness of the Oklahoma Territory and Scrub Pot, Sam and I would deliver Ned Travis to the sherrif of a border town called Portersville.

+++++++++++++++++


“Elliot Stevens.,” Nathan Travis declared as he walked through the door of the Portersville Sherif’s Office ,”I thought you were back in Grants Creek, lookin’ after that ranch.” He and Doc shook hands in a friendly greeting. “Good to see you again, Nate,” Doc replied “I decided to come along with the drive and keep an eye on Sam and the old man. I see you are still riding Tabasco.”
“Sure am,” Nathan replied “He’s still the fastest horse in Texas.”
“He ain’t run against my black,” Doc said sportingly.
“You still have Black Joe?”, Nathan asked “That was the finest horse I have ever seen.”
“No,” Doc replied, “I’m riding one of his colts. Call him Smokey Joe.”
Jake stretched out his hand to the ranger. “Welcome to Portersville,” he said “I am Jake Titus. I guess I am the law here these day, since Sherif Dunham has been away. What can I do for you?”
Nathan shook his hand. “Nathan Travis,” he said as he took notice of the silver star pinned to Doc’s black shirt. “So you have decided to serve and protect,” he directed at Doc.
“For a while,” Doc replied evasively, ”For a while.”
Travis turned his attention to Jake Titus who had seated himself behind the cluttered desk in the center of the room. “Mr. Titus,” he said, “I am looking for a man. He is wanted in three Texas counties for everything from attempted murder, conspiracy and horse stealing. His name is Ned Travis.”
Jake leafed through the stack of recent wanted posters on his desk. Sorry,” he said “I have got ten new posters here, but nothing on a Ned Travis.”
“He’d be easy to spot, Sherrif,” Nathan said as he glanced at the posters Titus handed him. “He is my twin and looks just like me.” Jake gave him a strange look. “A twin brother.,” he commented.
“I knew Ned when we were kids,” Doc interjected “He was always a bad seed.”
“You’re dead right about that, Doc,” Nathan agreed. “Pa didn’t raise him right.”
“Well, we have had a incident here, Mrs. Bradford over at the Clear Water Ranch wants us to come out there and talk to her brother Alex.” Titus said as he reached for his gun belt and began to fasten it around his hips. “ He drives the freight wagon and last night he got robbed.”
“Mind if I ride along with you, Mr. Titus?,” Nathan asked.
“Not at all,” Jake replied “It’s a good thing to have a few Texas Rangers along for the ride.”
”Hey Titus?”,Doc chimed in “What are you ridin’?.”
Jake grinned. “I am a lawyer, gentlemen,” he said “I have no need for horses like yours. I have Molly. Have had her for years.
Nate and Doc looked at each other as Jake headed for the door.
“You are ridin’ a mare?”, Doc asked.
“A mule,” Jake replied with a sly grin, “and she is the meanest, most stubborn critter I ever knew. She half chewed my barn down, scares my hired hands, but she loves me.”
Nathan checked the buckle on his gun belt as he and Doc started toward the door.
“Law man don’t need to be ridin’ a mule,” Doc mumbled to himself.”
Sure enough, when they walked outside, there at the hitching rail stood a rather large chestnut mule wearing a worn black saddle. As soon as she saw Doc and Nathan Travis, she put her ears back. “Now Molly,” Jake said “There is no need to be rude.” and those long red ears went up again. Doc and Nathan looked at each other and then went to the opposite rail to get their horses. “That darn critter kicked at me when I passed by her,” Doc said “Mules are ornery critters, but a red one is the work of the devil.” As he pulled himself into his saddle, he watched Jake Titus riding off on his mule, and she seemed happy to have her rider on her back. “Guess Titus was right,” he muttered to himself. “ But no law man rides a mule!” Nathan chuckled to himself as he mounted up. “As long as we can follow him and find this ranch, “ he said “I don’t care if he is riding a hog.”

+++++++++++++++++

Frances Bradford poured another cup of her peppermint tea for her brother and slid a plate of sugar cookies toward him. He was sitting across the kitchen table from her, a glum look on his face and a bandage around his head, covering the wound he’d suffered when he was hit with the but of his own rifle. “Come on Alex,” she said quietly “The doctor said you are going to be just fine. You were robbed. None of this is your fault.”
“I know, Franny,” he said “But I am probably going to lose my job and we can’t afford that.”
“I don’t think that Mr. Driscoll over at the freight office is going to hold this against you,” Frances interjected “Good drivers are hard to find.”
“Just the same,” Alex replied “I let everyone down.”
“Alex,” Fran said firmly “You were attacked. You did not cause it.”
“Yes I did, Franny,” Alex replied miserably “If I had not picked up that man who was stranded in his underwear, I’d have made it home in time to meet you at Miss Victoria’s like we had planned.”
“Wait a minute,” Fran said “You never mentioned a man in his underwear before. Do you remember what he looked like?”
“I had such a head ache when I got home that I could not remember everything, Franny,” Alex said, “But yes, there was a man I picked up. He said he had family here. He was wearing only ridge runner underwear and that is all I remember.”
“Jake Titus is coming out to talk to you today,” Fran said “You must tell him anything that you can recall. This thief needs to be caught. I could not bear the thought of losing you to some gunman, Alex. You are my little brother and we have to stick together.” Alex got up from the table and crossed the kitchen to the open door. “Where are you going?” Fran asked.
“Thought I’d head out to the woods and see if there are any rabbits to shoot,” he replied.
“It might do you good,” Fran said “Gus’s rifle it up stairs in my room, Alex. You can use it if you want to.”
“He got my Winchester, didn’t he.” Alex said sadly.
Fran smiled at him. “May be we will have good luck and you will get it back.”
“I doubt it,” Alex replied “But thanks for the encouragement.” A little while later, Fran heard her brother ride off and figured she would be cooking rabbit stew for dinner.

Three mens rode together along the dusty road that led out of town and the Clear Water Ranch. Jake Titus, mounted on his mule led the procession along. “How come you have that mule instead of a horse,?” Doc asked as he drew up along side of him.
“I’ve always liked mules,” Jake replied. “Have since I was a little tyke.”
“Can that critter run?” Doc asked.
“When she has a mind to,” Jake replied. “My Pappy used to plow with a team of mules and he’d let me get up on one of them and ride home when he was done. Guess I was intrigued with their ears. Always liked the way they rode too. Horses are fine, but for me, its Molly.”
Nate Travis pulled his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. “Who is it we are going to be talking to?”, he asked Jake.
“The widow Bradford,” Titus replied “name is Frances. A right handsome woman if I do say so myself.”
“Think I may have met her a while back when I stopped at a way station on the trail down from Grants Creek. ,” Nate said.
“You might have,” Titus replied “She was back East visiting family and just got back a few days ago.” Nate smiled “Maybe she will remember me.”
Suddenly a shot rang out from some distance away, but still raised the dust at Tabasco’s feet. The big horse jumped nervously. The men looked around themselves to see where the gun blast had come from. Suddenly another one and another. “Some body is shooting at us!,” Titus shouted “Let’s get out of here!!” At that he kicked Molly in the slats and that mule took of like a shot. Doc and Nate were right behind him and drawing their guns as he drew his. They returned fire, but the shots continued. Suddenly, Nate’s hat went flying. That was too close and they bailed off their mounts and took cover behind some rocks. “Come out of there, coward.” some one shouted. Jake, Doc and Nathan looked at each other dumbfounded. “I am going to count to three and then you better step out and show yourselves. I am going to have your whole gang to take to the sherrif.”
“Alex!” Jake shouted “Put the gun down. It’s me, Jake Titus!”
“ Why are you riding with the man who robbed me?” the young man shot back at him.
“What?”
“You heard me Jake. If you ain’t going to arrest that outlaw, I am going to shoot him.”
“The men with me are not outlaws, Alex,” Jake shouted back. “They are Texas Rangers.”
Alex’s answer was another volley of shots at the rocks.
“Darn! That boy is confused,” Nathan said “and I think I know why.”
“Hold your fire!” Nathan ordered “I am coming out.”
“Are you daft?” Titus stated as the ranger rose to his feet.
“No,” Nate replied “But I think he has met my brother and thinks that I am him.”
“Be careful Nate,” Doc advised “Titus and I will cover you.”
“One of you boys get my hat,” Nate said as he stuck his gun back in its holster.
“This ain’t no time for you to be worrying about your hat,” Doc groused “Now get out there and straighten that kid out.”
“Alex,” Jake shouted “The man coming out is a Texas Ranger. His name is Nathan Travis. Don’t shoot, or we will have to shoot back.”
“All right, Jake,”Alex replied “If you say so.”
Nathan Travis stepped out into the open, with his hands in the air. “Come on out, boy,” he said “I want to talk to you.”
“Why?”, Alex called back “You took my rifle and cold cocked me with it. You have probably cost me my job. I just wanted to help you, you son of a gun, and you ruined me.”
“It wasn’t me,” Nate shouted back “It was my brother Ned. I have been trailing him for weeks.”
“What?”Alex questioned.
“It’s just like I said,” Nathan answered “It was my brother who took your rifle and robbed the freight wagon. Come on out and take a look at me. If the man who attacked you looked just like me, it was my twin and I am here to arrest him and bring him to trial for many other crimes he’d committed.” Jake Titus heaved a sigh of relief, when he saw Alex walk out of the woods with a rifle in his hands.
“It is true, Alex,” he shouted “We were heading out to the ranch to talk to you.” The boy’s face turned bright red with embarrassment and he walked up to the rocks and stood face to face with Nathan Travis. “Mister,” he said sheepishly “I am real sorry. I thought you were him and I wasn’t going to let him get to the ranch and hurt my sister.”
“Did the man who attacked you look like me?” Nathan asked.
“Yes sir,” the boy replied “The spitting’ image. But he had come up on some trouble. When I picked him up, he was dressed in just his ridge runners. Said he had family in Portersville.”
“Stupid, and a liar to boot,” Doc commented and Jake Titus tried not to laugh.
“Look fellas,” Alex said “I am really sorry. I was scared when I saw Mr. Travis. I thought he was that outlaw.”
“No body got hurt and that is all that matters.”Jake said as he caught the trailing reins of his mule “Go get your horse, Alex and lets ride out to the ranch and get this thing straightened out.”
“You boys go on ahead,” Nate said “I’m going back to get my hat.” Again Alex hung his head in embarrassment, “ I am sorry,” he said “I ruined it and I will get you another one.”
“You only shot my hat,” Nate said with a grin “But I am still here without a scratch. I’ll see you at the ranch.”
Well, that expensive white hat that Nathan Travis wore was a mite dirty when he picked it up and it had a hole through the brim where Alex’s shot had hit it. He put it back on his head and whistled loudly. Out from the trees, trotted Tabasco. Nathan got hold of the reins and mounted up, then rode off in the direction of The Clear Water Ranch.
Jake Titus knocked on the front door of the ranch house. A few minutes later, Frances Bradford met him there. “Hello Jake,” she said “Come in I am glad you are here. Alex has gone out hunting and...” Her younger brother cut her off ,“I am here Franny,” he said as he appeared on the porch behind Titus.
“I heard gun fire.,” Fran said “did you get any rabbits?” Alex looked down at his feet, “No,” he replied “I was shooting at who I thought was the man who robbed me.”
“Oh Alex,” Fran declared “I hope no one has been hurt.”
“Only my hat, Ma’am.” Frances looked away from her brother as Nathan Travis joined Jake and Alex on the porch. Her dark eyes held his and she smiled warmly. “Ranger Travis,” she said “It is good to see you again.”
“Good to see you too, Ma’am,” Nathan replied with a smile. She was pretty. Very pretty and he had not really taken note of that when they’d met on the trail. She was all in black then, but today she was dressed in gauchos and a Mexican blouse. Yes, she was indeed a fine figure of a woman.
Again Jake Titus noticed the same crackling silence he’d sensed back in the bake shop between Victoria and Doc when he’d introduced them. “Well, I guess you two know one another,” he commented. Doc appeared to his right “This is Doc Stevens, my new deputy,” he added. Doc smiled at her “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Bradford.”
“Won’t you all come in and sit down in the parlor.” Frances said as she gestured for them to come in. “Alex has a lot to tell you about what happened outside of town the other night.”
She then turned to Jake Titus as he walked into the entry hall behind Doc and Nathan. “How is your wife?” she asked “I have not see her at church lately or out riding that horse of hers.”
“She is just fine, Miss Frances,” Jake replied with a broad grin “She is at home writing one those dime novels for those folks up in New York City.”
“She really is good, Jake,” Fran commented “Where does she get so many great ideas for adventures like that.”
“Don’t rightly know,” Jake replied “But those folks up North are paying her a bundle for each one of those stories.”
Fran showed him into the parlor “That is wonderful,” she said “Please tell her I am looking forward to reading her next one.”
“Surely will, Ma’am,” Jake replied as he sat down on one of the wooden rocking chairs.
Now all this time, the would be Sherrif Titus, Doc and Nathan Travis were talking to Alex about the man who had robbed him and Miss Frances was serving them lemonade, Ned Travis was getting closer and closer to his destination and it was not on his own. I do not think I have ever heard of any outlaw who’s luck was as bad as his was, and soon he would be locked up in the Portersville jail.

+++++++++++++++++++++


I always believed that if you keep trying at something you want to do, you will eventually succeed. In the weeks we had been on the trail with the herd, I had gained a good bit of confidence. I was a pretty decent rider and Mud turned out to be a good cow horse. We chased down strays and roped stragglers. I even pulled a few of those long horns out of the mud when they got stuck in it. We’d dealt with Indians and I’d spotted trouble on my watch and as a result captured a man who would have killed Sam and Scrub Pot. Sam, oh yes. She was all I thought about and all she thought about was getting the herd to market and getting back to Grants Creek to her ranch. I looked forward to riding point with her and talking as we did when we were alone. I had been content to be her friend, the one who kept her secret, but as time went on, I wanted more. I wanted her, but figured she had no time for me past the work we did together. However, she had stopped calling me “Bently” and now was using my Christian name when we spoke. Scrub Pot always seemed to have that all knowing look on his face when he saw us together and I could not figure out why or what the old man might have up his sleeve. I had fallen for Sam and I had grown to love her Grandfather too. When the drive was over it would be hard to say good bye, but I figured that would be what would happen. I began to dread Abilene and the end of the trail. Our trail boss was still missing and no one seemed to know where he had gotten to. No body but Scrub Pot that is. But the problem at the moment was getting Ned Travis to Portersville and turned over to the law. I had never heard such complaining from a person as I heard from him. He was suffering the after effects of being shot with rock salt in an area I’d rather not discuss with ladies present and he was letting the world know about it. We tied him up and threw him in the back of Scrub Pot’s wagon when we moved out. He didn’t like it much, but he was so afraid of Scrub Pot that he quit his bellyaching and shut up. I don’t know what the old man said to him, but it sure had him spooked. Scrub Pot calmly drove his mules, his usual sour look on his face, his fluffy white dog sitting beside him on the wagon seat. The gray canvas cover of the wagon was stained red from the boysenberry jam incident and he seemed pretty touchy about that, so no one ever mentioned it, and where was Doc? No one had seen him for over a week and he should have been back with the supplies long ago. Little did we know, that the peaceful little town of Portersville was going to need him far more than we would.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Sam seemed concerned when she spoke to her Grandfather about Angus Watson. “His horse is still here and he has been gone for three days,” she said as she rode her stallion along side the chuck wagon, “I have to get this herd to market and to tell you the truth, it has been much easier without him.”
“I know,” Scrub Pot replied. Sam could read him like a book as she looked back at his face. “You know where he is,” she said “Don’t you.”
“And what if I did, Granddaughter?,” the old Indian replied. He was playing games with her as he had done ever since she was a child. “You always answer with a question,” she stated “Now are you going to tell me what happened to Watson?”
“Do you not believe you can get to Abilene without Red Hair?, he asked.
“Well, it seems like I have been the one doing all the work since we started and he was the one giving all the orders,” Sam replied.
“Red Hair is no cattleman, Samantha Ann,” Scrub Pot said “It is better with him gone. You will see.”
“What happened to him?”, Sam pressed. “If he is out there hurt or something we need to go back for him.”
“He is not hurt,” Scrub Pot replied “He is with a woman.”
“What woman?”, she asked.
“He would have traded many horses for Bird That Squawks , Scrub Pot replied “But I made it so he did not have to.”
“Oh no,” Sam said, a worried look on her face “What did you do, Grandfather?”
“Nothing,” the old man defended “I merely introduced them and I have not seen them since.”
It started with a smile and then a grin and a few seconds later, Sam Dodge was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her horse.
“Do not make light of two people in love,” Scrub Pot advised, a sly grin on his face “one day it could be you.”
She pushed her reins froward sending Trouble into a trot “You are a crafty old fox,”she said as she rode away. He watched after her “And you are my pride and joy, Samantha Ann,” he said to himself. If only his son could see her, could have known her. How he would have loved her. It always made him sad to think of the past. Joseph died when Sam was only five months old. The only father she’d ever known was Scrub Pot and for that he was grateful.
The sun was sinking slow behind the hills, and quitting time was close. We’d covered a lot of ground that day and true to form, Sam had found good grazing land and water for the herd. Still no sign of the trail boss. We were less than a ten miles from the Oklahoma Territory and after that, barring any mishaps, which were always possible, we’d be crossing into Kansas. The drive would be over when we got to Abilene and the thought made me sad. I could not imagine parting with Mud, or not having the comradery of the boys, or Scrub Pot. It seemed that the old Indian was the glue that held the whole outfit together. His cooking was not what I would call good, but we survived on it and didn’t complain too much. I had gotten used to the dust and the noise and the smell that went along with driving cattle. Once we reached Abilene, the herd would be sold, loaded into cattle cars and taken to packing houses in Chicago. It seemed that since the war, the demand for beef had grown and so had many of the cattle ranches throughout Texas and the West. I thought about the Flying S. Sam was so excited about owning it and raising her horses there, but to me it was just a broken down place with a big ranch house in the middle of it. Fences would need mending, roofs would have to be patched and shingled. It all seemed to be too much for one woman to handle, but then, that woman was Sam Dodge and as I came to know her, I did not think there was anything she couldn’t do. I tried not to think about it, but I knew our parting was coming and saying good bye to her would be hard to do. However, we were close enough to civilization to haul Ned Travis into a little town called Portersville and have him locked up.

I was with the crew , bringing back some strays, when our foreman, a man called Caleb Tyler rode up next to me. “Hey Bently,” he hollered “The boss wants to see you back at camp.”
“The boss?” I questioned to myself, “Watson was missing, or so I thought.”
“Get a move on, Bently,” the man prompted “We’ve got work to do before sundown.”
“All right,” I replied “I’ll get back as soon as I am done.” I turned Mud around and rode on until I saw the white covers of the wagons and figured that was where I would find Watson. I could not imagine what he wanted with me. I was just a half experienced drover. I saw Scrub Pot with a rope in his hand and he was heading to the back of the wagon. “Where is Watson?”, I called out to him. The old man turned toward me. “Watson is gone, Jerrod Bently,” he said “Sam sent for you.” Suddenly I was encouraged. Sam had sent for me, maybe that was a good sign. I slid off my horse and led him behind me as I walked over to where Sam was brushing her new mare. “I’m here, Sam,” I said “What did you want? I was a little confused when Tyler told me that the boss wanted to see me.”
“Well, I have discovered that our trail boss has vamoosed to parts unknown with that Pawnee squaw who came into camp a while back,” she said “So with him gone for the last three days, I guess I am the boss now.”
“So what would that have to do with me coming in from work?” I asked.
“Because I need a ram rod,” Sam replied “And I think you can do it.”
“What about Ely Jax,” I said “He has more experience than I do.”
“I sent for you, Bently,” she stated “Not Ely. Now do you want the job or not.”
“ Well, sure, Sam,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
She smiled and then glanced back down at the mare’s shiny flanks. “In view of what has happened, Jerrod,” she said “I think it is best that I tell the men the truth about who I really am.”
At first I was horrified by the idea. After all, I spent most of my time with the other drovers and I had heard them talk about women and the lack of them on the trail. “No, Sam,” I said “I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
She looked up at me , that spark of defiance in her dark eyes. “Do you think they will change the way they work with me if they know I am really a woman?”
“That is not what worries me, Sam,” I said “I know they respect you and have all along, but this changes everything. You could put yourself in danger.”
“If Watson had not run off, I would have made it to the end of the drive with only you knowing who I really am,” she said “But now I have to see just how much respect these men have for me, and I am not going to go on fooling them. I do not like dishonesty and I did not like doing this, but I had to.”
“Sam, these men can get rough, and some of them drink and....” She cut me off “Your wanting to protect me is comforting, Jerrod,” she said “But I think I can take care of myself and you have never seen my Grandfather lose his temper with anyone. ”
“Oh yes I have,” I replied “Did you forget that I was there when he shot that outlaw with the rock salt and then threatened to scalp him.”
“That was not his worst,” Sam said nonchalantly “That was pretty mild considering his past and how he lived his life before he married my grandmother.”
“Mild?”, I exclaimed “He was going to scalp the man and I don’t know why he stopped.”
Sam untied the mare and let her walk away to graze with Wakeeze. “A man of God does not commit violence,” she said.
“A man of God?”, I said “That was no man of God I saw with a knife in his hand, that was a Blackfoot war chief.”
“That is exactly what he was,” Sam said quietly “Since those bloody days on the planes, my grandfather has been many things. He is a horse whisperer, and trainer. He has many honors from his days with the cavalry and after my grandmother died he went into the seminary and was ordained as a Methodist minister.”
I stood there staring at her. She had just opened the door into her history. I had always suspected there was far more to the old man than he let on. “Well, I’ll be,” I said “I would never have guessed that he was a minister.”
“He is,” Sam replied “and the best grandfather a girl could have. Now, I am going to tell the men tonight about who I really am and we will have to take what comes.”
“What ever you do Sam,” I said as I approached her and reached out to take her hand. “I will stand with you. She didn’t draw away as I expected her to as my hand closed around hers.
Something in her smile was warming and sweet. “Jerrod,” she said “We have many more miles to push this herd and at then end of it, when the work is done, I think you and I have much to talk about.”
I wanted to run away, I wanted to stay. I did not know what to say or do, but I knew all the way down to my boot heels that she felt the same way I did. She smiled back at me. “Do I have a ram rod for the rest of the drive?” she asked.
“Yes Ma’am,” I replied “You can count on it.”
“Tonight we tell the boys the truth, and in the morning we take the prisoner to Portersville.”she said. Then she walked away. Stunned in a happy sort of way I went back to where I’d left Mud. Who could possibly have known that it would be on a cattle drive that I would meet a girl who dressed like a boy, rode a horse like a Blackfoot warrior and gave the orders even when we had a trail boss and at the end of this adventure, she would become my wife. But that time had not come yet, and I was willing to wait. Like Sam had said, we had a lot to talk about.

++++++++++++++++++

“Hey! Indian!” Ned Travis complained from his place tied to the wagon wheel “Can’t you do nothing for this pain I am in? This is inhumane treatment.”
“So is trying to shoot my Granddaughter and stealing her horse,” Scrub Pot growled at him.
“Come on, “ Ned whined “Can’t you fix some remedy for my rear end. It is killing me.”
“No remedy,” Scrub Pot replied “The pain will stop in a day or so.”
“A day or so!” Ned cried “I am going to die from poisoning.”
“No,” Scrub Pot answered “Most likely from a rope. ” Scrub Pot gave him a look that told him he had better keep his pie hole shut. So Ned decided he best behave himself or he might not make it to his new accommodations at the Portersville jail.
I’d heard it said often that when it rains it pours and on August the twenty fifth of eighteen seventy five, I learned there were no truer words spoken. I was back at work moving the herd onward toward our destination. Since my talk with Sam, I’d gone from being a half experienced drover to ram rod, and Sam was trail boss. She had decided to tell the men the truth about who she really was and I hoped and prayed it would not turn out to be a mistake. She was a stickler for honesty and I admired her for that. Maybe part of me was afraid for her, but the other part was down right jealous, but I had to keep that between me and Mud. In the tenements of New York City, the best pet a kid could hope to own was maybe a cat. We’d never had pets , it was just my parents, me and my older brother, so I’d never realized how close a man can get to a critter, especially a horse. On our watches at night, I’d talk to Mud, man to man and he would twitch his ears as though he were listening to me. I told him everything, even about Sam, as it was much easier to tell my horse how I felt then it would have been to tell her. Yes, Mud was my confidant and he never uttered a single word of betrayal to anyone. I thought about staying in Texas when the drive was over. I had become a pretty accomplished rider and I was pretty good with a rope. I’d come to know far more than I ever did about horses and cattle. I had little time now for reading my J. W Titus novels. In the beginning I had been kind of envious of my favorite adventure writer. I figured J.W.Titus was a real cowboy, a rancher, handy with a gun and a taste for heroism and adoration. I had no idea that in the not too distant future when I’d reach Portersville , I would discover that my favorite cowboy adventure writer would be nothing like I imagined he’d be.

At the end of the day, Sam called a meeting. I sat by the chuck wagon wishing that the next horse in would be Doc incase there was trouble. I had a gun, but usually it was unloaded. I was no crack shot like Doc or Ely Jax and quite likely I’d have shot myself in the foot more than once due to my lack of experience. However, this time I thought I should be prepared in case Sam’s announcement to the drovers got ugly. I am not a bible scholar by any means, but my Ma did make us go to church and read the good book and somewhere in there, I recalled a passage that said that “the man is head of the household and loves his wife and family so much that he would be willing to die for them.. Well I was not up for dying that night, but the thought of taking a bullet to save Sam’s life felt like it might be the right thing to do. WOAH THERE!! I was getting a little ahead of myself as I sat there with my tin cup of now cold coffee between my hands. “Head of household?” I hadn’t even talked to Sam about how I felt about her, let alone asked her to marry me.
She appeared from the other side of the wagon, dressed as she usually was in men’s trail clothes , boots and her hat pulled down in front to shade her face. Her long hair was successfully hidden under that hat she’d worn since the day I met her. As soon as the boys noticed her standing there, they stopped talking among themselves and turned their attention to her. “What’s going on, Dodge?,” Caleb Tyler asked in his usual rough way. “We’ve got to get the boys back out to keep the coyotes and rustlers away.”
From the look Sam gave him, I knew she was not about to be ordered around by this man. If there was going to be trouble in camp tonight, it would come from Tyler.
“We’ll be sending the watch soon,” Sam said firmly “There is something I have to tell you boys before hand.” Behind me I heard Scrub Pot load and close his shot gun. I guess he had the same worries as I did.
“Our trail boss has left the drive.” Sam went on, “He’d been gone for several days and gave no notice so I can only assume that he has left for good.” The men chewed on her news for a few minutes speculating about what had happened with Watson. “I knew that Scotsman was no good,” Caleb Tyler stated. “Well,” he added “With Watson gone, that makes you trail boss, Dodge. Who’s going to take your place as ram rod?”
I could see by the expression on Tyler’s face that he expected to have th job that Sam had all ready designated to me. I had come to know Tyler pretty well since we left Grant’s Creek and I didn’t trust him. He drank and had a mean streak in him that was about a mile wide. Even that Gruela he rode was meaner than a snake. As I suspected there was going to be trouble and would all happen when Sam told the men that I was the new ram rod and that she was Samantha and not Sam.
“I will be taking Watson’s place till we reach Abilene and settle up for Roger Hinkley,” Sam told the men “ But all of you need to know who you are going to be taking orders from until we get there.” Several feet of glossy dark auburn hair fell down over her shoulders and back and she tossed her hat aside. “You know me as Sam Dodge, ram rod and head wrangler” she said confidently “The fact that I really am Samantha Dodge does not change a thing. I know my job and can do it as good as any man.” She was a spit fire, that was for sure and I heard the challenge in her voice as she spoke. Even if I had not fallen in love with her, I would have willingly cast my lot with her knowing Sam as I did. I felt the other men would probably see it the same way. There was silence, and surprise among them , some may have been shocked by her revelation. Ely Jax stood up removing his dusty hat, the look of surprise still on his face. “I have worked side by side with you all these weeks, Ma’am.” he said “ I have seen you ride and rope like a seasoned cowboy, may be even better. Well, what I am trying to say, is that I intend to stay on till the drive is over. Me and my brother, Floyd.” The young man’s brother rose to his feet. “I knowed you was different, Miss Sam,” he said “But I never questioned your work or working with you. I agree with Ely. You done one heck of a job on this drive and with no help from Watson. We are in. So let’s get on with it.”
Sam smiled at Floyd as he stood there, with his battered old hat in his hands and I felt the ugly green monster called jealousy bite me a little, but I chose to ignore it. Right now my petty feelings did not matter.
“Thanks”, she said “Anyone who wants to leave better do it now. I will see him paid for his time and on his way. One by one each drover agreed to stay on.
“Well, “Miss Samantha Dodge,” Caleb Tyler spat “ Now that you are the boss, how about telling the boys that I am your new ram rod.” Everything in the camp went still and the tension suddenly mounted. Sam looked him dead straight in the eyes “I have chosen the ram rod for the rest of the drive, Tyler.” she said strongly “My choice is Jerrod Bently.”
I could see the anger building in Tyler’s reddened face.”You chose that green horn over me!”, he growled “I have the experience and Bently ain’t nothing. I ain’t going to be taking orders from no woman either. None of us will,” he added expecting the crew to join him against Sam.
Sam stood her ground “That is your choice, Tyler,” she said sternly. That was the moment when Caleb Tyler made the worse mistake he could have made. “Why you half breed,” he snarled and moved toward Sam, his hands clenched into fists and fury on his face. “I will kill you.”
It was though I never saw her hand move because it happened so fast. The knife she’d thrown buried its deadly blade in Tyler’s forearm. Tyler went to his knees, yelping in pain and bleeding profusely.. I heard guns being cocked and saw Scrub Pot with that shot gun of his aimed at Caleb Tyler. “One move, and you are a dead man,” he said “You are very lucky that Sam didn’t kill you with that knife,” he added. Tyler was shocked, as he knelt there holding his arm while Scrub Pot crossed to where he was and pulled the knife out, then handed it back to Sam. “I will patch you up, you sorry son of coyote,” he added and “then you better get out of here and never come back.” Tyler only stared at him, everyone but him had cast their lot with Sam Dodge and this trouble maker found himself bleeding from a knife wound that he well deserved. Two of the drovers helped him up. “For your information, Tyler,” Sam stated coldly as he faced her. “I am not a half breed. My father was. As he was Blackfoot, so am I and proud of it.”
I’d drawn my gun as Tyler tried to rush Sam, but now holstered it as Scrub Pot passed by me to tend to Tyler’s wound. The incident was over , Tyler was not hurt seriously, and was tended to. Sam paid him what he was due and sent him on his way.
After that things began to change. The men quit cussing when ever Sam was around and many of them would remove their hats when she passed by. She’d just smile that pretty smile of hers and ride off. Sometimes I would see wild flowers picked and left by the back of the chuck wagon where she slept at night. I kept telling myself that I had no right to be jealous, but it was no use. Caleb Tyler was long gone and the border was not far. I had to keep my mind of my work, not on how jealous I was over the attention some of the boys had begun to show Sam.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

We crossed into the Oklahoma territory the next day. Sam left Ely Jax in charge of things so we could deliver Ned Travis to whatever law there might be in Portersville. Scrub Pot was grumbling to himself all morning about where Doc had gotten to. He’d never admit that he was worried about him. I was a little concerned myself, as Doc was long over due..
“There ain’t no sherif in Portersville,” Ned taunted as I tied him to the saddle of one of our horses. “I’ll be out in no time.”
“I rather doubt that,” Sam replied as she mounted her horse. I looked up at the outlaw. “Maybe you didn’t see what happened last night,” I said quietly.
“Nope,” Ned replied smugly, “I was napping.”
“Sam had to use her knife on that drover who got out of hand last night.” I said “I thought she’d killed him with it.” Suddenly Ned lost his cocky attitude. “Well,” I continued “Scrub Pot wanted to take your scalp. He’s Blackfoot you know, and Sam, well, lets just say she is a lot more Indian than she is like you or me.” Ned looked over at Sam Dodge, thinking that maybe he’d better mind his manners. “She doesn’t carry a gun,” I went on, “She uses a knife and is real good with it too.” At that Ned shut his mouth and seemed to accept that he was about to take his last ride before the jail door slammed shut behind him.

Sam, mounted on her stallion led the procession. Scrub Pot was on Wakeeze and leading the prisoner on one of the remuda horses while Mud and I brought up the rear. . Scrub Pot had given me his shot gun, as he was sure I would never hit the broad side of a barn with my pistol, should I have to shoot at anything. We rode into the town of Portersville about a few hours later under a hot late summer sun.
It was a pretty large town. There was a main street, a hotel, general store and other businesses scattered along the center of town. It had changed greatly from the days Scrub Pot recalled of a single trading post. As we passed the black smith’s shop, I noted a line of mostly well dressed ladies waiting with their horses and mules for his services. The hammer clanged loudly as we passed by and it seemed that the attention of the ladies was on the young man who wielded it. It was not hard to find the sherif’s office, as it was just past the smithy and livery stable. I saw Doc’s black tied up in front of it. That was strange? As Sam and Scrub Pot took Ned off his horse, I went to the door . The rusty hinges protested loudly as I pulled it open and stepped into the dusty office. There behind the desk, his black hat pulled down over his eyes, his worn boots resting on the desk in front of him, was Doc. He was taking a little siesta. ‘Doc?” I said quietly. He lifted his hat, opened one eye and looked at me. Then pushed it back , but left his feet resting on the desk top. “Bently,” he said, a little sheepishly “Where did you come from?”
“The herd is just a little ways out of town,” I said “Where is the sherrif?”
Doc gave me that cockeyed grin of his “You are looking at him, ” he replied.
I was a little taken aback, “You were getting supplies for Scrub Pot when I last saw you, how the devil did you...” I began. There was a commotion outside the door and Doc rose to his feet. “It’s a long story, Bently,” he said as he crossed to the open door. “What the blazes is going on!.”
“Get in there, you son of a snake,” Scrub Pot growled as he pushed Ned through the door. Ned stumbled forward, catching himself of the edge of the desk. “Lock this horse thief up and then hang him.” he added. Then the old man noticed that the man who met him at the door was none other than Doc. Scrub Pot scowled at him. “Where you been?”, he demanded. “I am out of flour and sugar and the coffee grounds are older than I am.” Doc stared at him, and then at Ned Travis. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s but,” he declared as he took the outlaw by the arm. “Ned? Is this true ? You’ve gone to stealing horses now?”
“I ain’t done nothing wrong, Doc,” Ned lied “That Indian set me up and that cowboy over there helped him, so did the girl. It’s all a lie. You know me, Doc. Since we was kids.”
“You just come along with me,” Doc replied as he ushered Ned to the open door of the small jail cell at the back of the office, “Your brother is looking for you and I am sure he will be mighty pleased to see you.” He seemed to enjoy the worried look the mention of Nathan Travis’s name brought to Ned’s face. Doc pushed him into the dingy cell and closed the door and locked it with the key he had tied to his belt. “You try to pick that lock Ned, and I will shoot you where you stand.”he added.
Knowing Doc Stevens since they were school boys together, Ned knew that he meant every word he said.
“You don’t understand Doc,” Ned began as he gripped the bars of the cell door “I am innocent. I didn’t do nuthin’ wrong.”
“No, you did nothing wrong,” Scrub Pot growled from across the room “Only tried to shoot my grand daughter and steal her horse.”
Stunned by what he had just heard, Doc turned to Scrub Pot. “What?” he demanded.
“It is true, Doc,” I said as I set the shotgun down on the desk . “Scrub Pot and I caught him with a gun on Sam and trying to get on her horse.”
“That’s a lie!,” Ned shouted from his cell “That is a bald face lie! I only wanted that horse. I don’t care about the girl or the old man.”
Doc’s face went red with rage and he gritted his teeth. “Is Sam all right?”, he ground out “You better tell me that girl is alive and well or I am going to kill this son of a coyote right here and hang for it willingly.”
As I watched Scrub Pot and Doc, I could tell he knew his friend’s temper well and how to defuse it. “Killing is against the law of God, my brother,” the old Indian replied “Samantha is fine. He never got a shot off at her before I nailed him in the ass a good dose of rock salt.”
The door opened and Sam walked in. She looked at her uncle standing there with his hand on his gun, the silver star pinned to his black leather vest. “What is going on?”, she demanded “And where the blazes have you been, Doc? We have been worried.”
“It doesn’t matter where I have been, Sammy,” he said in great relief as he went to her and put her arms around her. “I only heard your grandfather say that this outlaw wanted to hurt you, and I lost my temper.” Doc said as he embraced his niece. “Thank God you are all right.”
“There is much more to the story,” Scrub Pot said stoically “ We must talk, as the danger is not over.”
Doc nodded, “I didn’t come back to camp because there was a run in here that involved Ned. He robbed a freight wagon.” he said. “Portersville has no sherrif other than a lawyer by the name of Titus. So when the robbery happened, I asked to be deputized. Been here ever since.”
“You did not think wisely when you left the rangers,” Scrub Pot replied “I wanted you to go back, but you had a different path to follow.”
“We all have our choices, “ Doc replied wanting to change the subject. “Nathan Travis is in town and...”
“Nathan!!” Ned cried from his cell “My brother is here?!! You go get him right now, I want to talk to him.”
“I am sure he can’t wait to talk to you either, Ned,” Doc taunted. “Now unless you want to be hog tied and gagged, you best shut up.”
“Sam,” Doc said “You and Jerrod go over to the bake shop. It’s called “Victoria’s” and you will probably find Nate Travis there. He will be mighty interested in the fact that we have his twin brother locked up.”
“You can’t prove anything!,” Ned taunted “I didn’t do nuthin,’ so you can’t charge me with nuthin.”
“How about attempted murder and horse stealing?,” Scrub Pot said, a dangerous edge to his words. “You tried to kill Sam and me because that was what Roger Hinkley paid you to do.”
“I don’t know anybody named Hinkley,” Ned lied.
“Hinkley sent you to kill Sam and Scrub Pot?” Doc questioned, that cockeyed grin of his crossing his face,” How stupid can the man be to hire you, Ned?.”
“I knew Hinkley was no good,” Scrub Pot said “I warned Sam, but she would not listen to me. With us dead, Hinkley would not have to give up the ranch and he would try to lay claim to what is rightfully Sam’s inheritance from her father.”
“Now wait a minute,” Doc interjected “You never mentioned anything about Joseph leaving her anything but a memory.”
“It is not a good time for me to tell you, Doc,” Scrub Pot said “You will have to trust me. I have kept this secret for many years. “ The old man then fell silent. Doc had heard the rumors about hidden treasure somewhere on the same property as the Flying S Ranch was, but he had never believed it. He looked his old friend dead in the eyes, “Why you old crow,” he said “You have known about that treasure all along haven’t you.”
Scrub Pot remained silent. He would not speak of it again.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Thank you, Miss Victoria,” Nathan said as he paid for his coffee and pie. “You have got to be the best cook in the entire territory!”
“You have been on the trail for a long time, Captain Travis,” Victoria replied as she gave him his change. “I am glad you stopped by.” There were several other customers around the shop sitting at the tables and enjoying their purchases. “I have baking to do this morning,” Victoria said “So if you need me, I will be in the back.”
Nathan seemed a little nervous, like he wanted to ask her something but was afraid to. “Miss Victoria,” he said “I admire your friend, Frances. I think she is a fine figure of a woman.” Victoria smiled “She is a good friend, Mr. Travis,” she said.
“Well,” Nathan said quietly “I’d like to take her to that church social they were talking about this Sunday. Do you think she’d go with me?”
“Why don’t you ride out to the ranch and ask her,” Victoria suggested “I think she might just say yes.”
“Thank you Ma’am,” Nathan replied as he rose from his chair “Maybe I will do that after I stop by the sherif’s office.”
“Maybe the two of you can help me get things set up for the social on Sunday,” Victoria added. Nathan got up and pushed his chair in to the table. “Be glad to, Miss Victoria,” he said.
Sam and I found the bake shop and the bell clanged loudly as we opened the door and walked inside. I had never smelled anything so heavenly as the aroma of bread baking. I recognized Nathan Travis right away when I saw him standing by the glass front counter talking to an attractive blonde. I remembered a night a little over a month ago when I’d met him after he’d shot a cougar. “Hello Bently,” he said. I was surprised that he remembered me.
“Good to see you again,” I replied. “Doc needs you over at the jail. We got your brother locked up..”
“Well, that is welcome news.”, Nathan said “I am afraid he is in a lot of trouble.”
“That is true, ” Sam said “However, he needs to see a doctor as soon as possible.”
“Why is that?”, Nathan asked
“Because my Grandfather shot him in the rear with a load of rock salt about two days ago.” she said trying to keep a straight face. Nate tipped back his hat. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then burst out laughing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

GRANTS CREEK TEXAS

The back forty acres of the Flying S Ranch was riddled with holes half dug and others deeper than six feet. Roger Hinkely was getting frustrated. He had been searching for the buried treasure for weeks, but turned up nothing more than a few cracked and broken Indian pots, a cow skull and a few live rattle snakes. He was furious that there had been no word from Ned Travis in weeks. He’d haunted the telegraph office over near Waco just in case there had been word that the job he’d hired him to do was done. Nothing. No letter, no Ned, no news. If Sam Dodge and her grandfather were still alive they’d be completing the drive soon and returning to Grants Creek to take possession of the ranch and Roger could not let that happen. Time was running out and at this point, the low life had no idea that his plan had been discovered and that Ned Travis was in jail .
“It’s legend, Mr. Hinkey,” the bar keeper at the Painted Pony said “That silver or gold or whatever it is, is just one of them injun yarns.” Roger dropped two bits onto the bar and lifted the foaming mug of beer. “Indian’s are always talking about it, Jesse,” he said as he took a drink, “They’re talking for a reason and I know that treasure is out there somewhere on the ranch and I am going to find it. “
”You’ve not heard about it from the young ones,” the bar keeper said “It’s the old ones who would remember it. You should have talked to Scrub Pot Dodge before he left with the herd.”
“That old man gives me the creeps,” Roger said “Besides’s I don’t trust Indians.”
“Rumor was years ago that he and his son found a treasure and knew where it was.”
It was obvious that the bartender was enjoying seeing Roger Hinkly on the edge of his chair. He knew little about the legend of the Grants Creek hidden Spanish treasure., but he knew enough to spike Roger Hinkley’s greed and desperation of finding it.
“The old man has a son?” , Hinkly questioned.
“Had.,” Jesse replied “Joe Dodge has been dead for nearly twenty years.”
That was better news than Hinkley had expected to hear, He did not want to have to deal with any more of Scrub Pot’s descendants than he had to. However, a man who had been dead for nearly twenty years could not tell him where to find buried or lost treasure.
“You heard anything from Ned Travis?” Hinkly asked the bar tender. Jesse took up a wet rag and began to wipe down the bar in front of him. “You’ve been asking me about Ned Travis for weeks now,” he said “I have no idea where he is.”


+++++++++++++++++

Jake Titus met Doc and Nate Travis at the jail. Jake was dressed in his white high collar shirt, tie and Sunday suit. “Sorry I took so long, gents,” he apologized, “I’ve been over at the court house all morning. The circuit judge is due and I had to get things set up for him. What is this I hear about a prisoner?”
Jake looked around at the faces of the people who were standing around the office. “ Please allow me to introduce myself.” he said, “ I am Jake Titus, acting sherrif or Portersville.”
“And a few other titles as well,” Doc added as he gestured toward Sam. “This young lady is my niece, Samantha Dodge” he said . Sam smiled “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Titus,” she said. Jake tipped his hat. “That old coot over there,”Doc continued as he pointed to Scrub Pot “Is the Reverend Zachariah Dodge.”
“Call me Scrub Pot” the old man replied as he offered Jake his hand. “Glad to meet you Reverend,” Jake said as the two men shook hands. As Titus turned to me, I stuck out my hand. “I am Jerrod Bently,” I said and as we greeted each other, I wondered if this busy, rushed lawyer could be J. W. Titus I was hoping to meet. “And the man in custody is my twin brother, Ned,” Nathan added as he turned from where he’d been looking out the window to the street. “And he is probably the same man who robbed the freight wagon and cold cocked Mrs. Bradford’s brother.”
“It sure has been a busy morning,” Jake declared “ For a town that usually pretty quiet, this is a lot of excitement.”.
“The judge got here yet?”, Doc asked.
“ Judge Douglass is due to arrive soon.” Jake replied “I am sure he will be interested in hearing all about our guest.” He then turned to Doc. “Has Victoria decided what she is baking for the social?” he asked.
“I think she said it was some kind of cake she was planning to donate for the prize,” Doc replied.
“I’ll be going to the church social,” Nathan added “Going to meet Miss Victoria there.” He did not catch the narrowing of Doc’s eyes as he spoke. This was not good. Was Nathan planning escort Victoria at the church social? Now , no one would have thought anything of it, had Nathan mentioned that he was meeting Mrs. Langford there to help her get set up and hopefully enjoy the company of her friend, Frances Bradford while they worked. All Doc heard was that the ranger had asked Victoria to the social when he was planning to ask her himself. “Well,” Doc said as he rose from the chair he’d taken at the desk. “Think I’ll head over to the bake shop. Coffee sounds pretty good this morning.”
Jake grinned. “When I passed by there earlier, it looked like Miss Victoria had a full house.”
Doc put on his hat and walked out of the sherif’s office , heading up the street. He’d been courting Victoria Langford pretty steadily since he’d arrived in Portersville and he intended to keep on courting her.


Meanwhile back at the herd, things remained peaceful under the watch of Ely Jax. Grazing was good for the cattle and there was still a long way to go before we’d reach Kansas. As I walked down the street to where I’d left Mud tied near the Black Smith Shop . I heard a rider coming hard up the street and looked up to see a cowboy in a cloud of dust as he reined his horse to a halt. It was Floyd Jax. “Howdy, Jerrod,” he drawled “Where is Sam Dodge?”
“She is at the Sheriff’s office with Scrub Pot and Doc.,” I replied “What is wrong?”
“Nothing wrong, Jerrod,” Jax said as he wound his reins around his saddle horn. “Just something peculiar so to speak. Ely sent me to talk to Sam about it.”
“Peculiar?”, I asked “What has happened?”
“Well, “ Jax replied as he tipped back his battered hat. “It’s Watson. He come back to camp last night. Seemed to be in a daze too.”
“Was that woman with him?”, I asked.
“Yes, it is that old squaw.,” Floyd replied “She ain’t stopped talking since they got there either.”
I tried to keep a straight face as Floyd dismounted and tied one rein to the hitching rail in front of us. “Well, I guess the mystery of where our trail boss disappeared to is now solved. “ I said.
“So it seems,” Floyd answered with a wide grin on his face.
“I was getting ready to ride back out to camp,” I said “Better tell Sam about this first.”
“Hey Jerrod,” Floyd said as we started toward the sherif’s office. “She sure is a pretty woman, ain’t she.”
I felt a stab of that old familiar jealousy again. “She is very pretty,” I said “But she is all business, Floyd. She will get this job done and then she’ll go back to Texas to run her ranch. She’s got no time for courting.”
I had just stepped in it with both feet and as the words came out of my mouth I knew I had said way too much. Floyd glanced back at me as we made our way down the creaky boardwalk. “You’ve got it bad for her, ain’t you, Jerrod.”, he said.
“Shut up, Floyd,” I stated as I pulled open the door of the sherif’s office.

++++++++++++++

Victoria put the finishing touches on her three layer jam cake and smiled , satisfied with her creation. It was to be the grand prize for the raffle at the church on Sunday. Her long blonde hair was caught up in a net and her apron was dusty from working at her counter and stove most of the day. She heard the bell ring as some one entered her shop. “I’ll be right with you,” she called out. A young man seated himself at a table by the window. “Got the coffee on, Vic?,” he called out.
“Hello, Kane.,” Victoria called back “I sure do.”
Kane Wolf was the new farrier in town. He was in his early thirties, a man of Native American decent with his black shining hair and dark soulful eyes. He was as handsome as any story book prince and built like a warrior. In a way he was royalty. His father was Wolf Standing, the acting leader of his clan back in Texas and his younger brother, Little Fox was out somewhere in the Texas planes trying to round up mustangs so he could get married, Blackfoot style. Kane shook his head and smiled as he thought about his brother. He knew Scrub Pot well and was wise to his plan of wanting a bride price of forty horses for his granddaughter.
“What is so funny?” Victoria asked as she set a cup of steaming hot coffee down in front of him. Kane looked up at her and grinned. “I was thinking about my little brother,” he said “He is on a quest to find a wife, but an old friend of my father’s has sent him on a wild goose chase instead.”
“You have family in Texas?” Victoria asked. “I have not heard you mention anyone before.”
“I grew up there,” Kane replied “A place called Bear Claw. Near Grants Creek. I went to school in California. That was were I met my wife.”
Kane flashed a grin “There are many pretty girls around here too,” he said “and since I opened my shop, business has been booming. I think I have met every farmer’s wife and daughter and shod or trimmed everything from race horses to Jake Titus’s mule and the school teacher’s goat.”
“I have seen quite a line forming outside your shop in the morning when I come to open my kitchen.,” Victoria commented.
“Darned if I can figure it out,” Kane replied as he sipped his coffee “Some of those horses I worked on less than on a week ago.” Victoria smiled. She knew the answer. She herself had stood in line to get her Fancy Lady’s new shoes. She had heard the talk and the sighs among the women as they waited their turn and watched the handsome young farrier at work at the forge and with the horses. Though Victoria appreciated the privilege doing business with this handsome prince of the planes, her thoughts always returned to the hazel eyes and cockeyed grin of the attractive gun fighter who had come to frequent her shop. She smiled warmly at the thought of him. “It takes him nearly a hour to finish his coffee,” she thought to herself.
“Now you are smiling, Vic,” Kane said “What is on your mind?”
“Someone I recently met,” she said to change the subject. “Doc Stevens is his name.”
“Oh yes,” Kane replied “The new sherrif.”
“I hope he will stay and be our sherrif,” Victoria replied “God knows, we need a man like him and Jake Titus can not go on doing it all on his own.”
“Titus is a survivor, Vic,” Kane replied “He’s done a good job keeping the peace since Sherrif Dunham up and left.”
“Yes, he has,” Victoria agreed “But I am sure J.W. gets worried about him.”
“You seen the elusive Mrs. Titus?”, Kane asked.
“Not recently,” Victoria replied “When she is gets to writing those stories of hers, nobody sees much of her.”
“I can’t wait to read her new one,” Kane said “That last one was good ! I read it twice.”
“So did I,” Victoria answered “Now, what else can I get for you Kane?”
“You got any of that apple sauce cake left from yesterday?”, he asked.
“Sure,” she replied as she looked up and saw Doc standing outside the door of her shop. She smiled at him and he waved back as he reached for the door knob. Victoria went behind her glass counter and took out the apple sauce cake and cut a piece for her customer.
“Good morning, Doc,” she said. The bell jingled as he closed the door behind him. “Mornin’ Miss Victoria,” he drawled as he removed his black hat.
Victoria smiled warmly as she looked back at him. “Sit right down, Sherrif, and I will be with you in just a minute.,” she said. She liked the way he made her feel when he strolled into her shop and smiled at her. She liked everything about Elliot Stevens. Could she be falling in love with the man?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


“At least Watson is all right,” Sam said after hearing Floyd’s account of the trail boss’s return. I saw Scrub Pot’s face blanch and his expression go sour when he heard that Watson had returned with Bird That Talks in tow. I was never good at reading the old man, but I could tell the news did not set well with him at all.
“Miss Sam,” Floyd said “Mr. Watson seemed to be in a daze of some kind. I don’t think he wants his job back either. You might ought to come back to camp with me and talk to him.”
“I will,” Sam replied “Our business here is settled. As for Watson. He doesn’t get his job back.” At that she got up from the bench she had been sitting on and picked up her hat from the edge of Doc’s desk. She placed in squarely on her head and then turned to me. “You want to stay a while Jerrod?,” she asked “I think you could use a break. But remember, we have got to move out in the morning and I will need you back by night fall.”
I felt a little jealous over Sam riding back with Floyd Jax, but pushed the thought aside. I had no right to feel as I did. Sam Dodge could well take care of herself. “Sure, Sam,” I replied “I’d kind of like to look up J. W. Titus while I am here.”
“Who is that?”, Sam asked as she crossed to the door to leave.
“A writer I like,” I said “Been reading his books since back in New York and I heard he lives around here somewhere.”
“You believe that stuff in those books?” Sam asked with a scoff in her tone.
“Some of it maybe,” I replied “But a lot of it is just fiction, Sam.”
She smiled at me. “You are no where near as green as you were when we started out , Jerrod.” she said “I’ll see you back at camp.”
“Send one of the men back with the wagon, Sam,” Scrub Pot interjected “I have to get a load of supplies myself. It seems Doc has a new job.”
“May be Doc is where he needs to be,” Sam said “I’ll send the wagon and you two stay out of trouble. Scrub Pot scowled at her and grunted something in the Blackfoot language and Sam laughed as she walked out the door. I began to think. If Sam was going to be in my life and I in hers one day, maybe I should learn a few words of her Grandfather’s language. I started to the door. “Where you off to, Scrub Pot?”, I said.
“Mercantile,” he replied “Doc ain’t seen the inside of that place since he go here, so I guess I’d better.”
I laughed. “I’ll see you later, and try the bake shop. The food is really good.”
I heard the old man grumble as I walked away.


++++++++++++++++++


Since the day I had purchased my first dime novels about adventures in the Wild West I had become a devoted fan of J. W. Titus’s work. Ned Buntline was a real good story teller, but J.W.Titus was, in my eyes, even better. Maybe he was not as well known as Buntline, but that didn’t matter to me. I read every chance I got and I had learned that Portersville in the Oklahoma Territory was where J. W.Titus was supposed to be living and writing his books. I imagined that he must be a seasoned rancher, cowboy and gun fighter, maybe a bit like Doc Stevens was. So when I crossed the dusty street that morning and saw J. Titus, Attorney at Law painted on the window of the building across from the sherif’s office, I was sure I had found my favorite story teller. The man who had inspired me to go West , well sort of inspired me, but there had been other facts involved as well. I stepped up onto the creaky boardwalk and looked into through the window. I saw the man I had met earlier when we’d brought Ned Travis in. He was seated behind a huge desk, with papers and books spread around him and a pretty young girl, standing in front of the desk arguing with him. May be this was not a good time to introduce myself to J. W. Titus.
“Daddy, I want to go to the social with Hap.”
Jake Titus narrowed his gaze at his sixteen year old blonde daughter. “Suzy, I told you that I don’t want you seeing Hap. He is not the boy for you.”
“But Daddy,”: the pretty blonde whined, “I love him, and he loves me.”
“He is a no account square head, Susanna Faye and no daughter of mine is going anywhere with Hap Johansen the third!”
“You are being stubborn!,” the girl cried “Just like that stupid mule of yours.”
“Molly is not stupid.,” Jake defended as he rose from his chair and crossed to his book shelf. “Now go back to the farm and help your mother. She said she was going to can those green beans today.”
As I watched, the girl turn on her heel and storm out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Obviously she was pretty angry about something, but whatever it was, was none of my business. All I wanted to do was meet J. W. Titus and express my gratitude for him being such a fine story teller. In a few hours, I would be back on my horse, riding drag with Ely or Gus Anderson. I knocked on the door and the lawyer looked up from the book that was open on the desk in front of him and motioned for me to come inside.
“Howdy.,” he said as he rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Jake Titus,” he said “What can I do for you.”
We shook hands. The man’s grip was like a vice. “Jerrod Bently,” I said, “We met over at the jail earlier.”
“Indeed we did,” Titus said “ have a chair.” He motioned to one at the corner of his desk.
“Thanks”, I said as I removed my hat and seated myself.“I have been wanting to meet you sir,” I said “I think I have read every story that you have ever written.”
Jake Titus looked back at me, his blue eyes thoughtful for a moment, then his face broke into a wide grin. “I think you have the wrong Titus, son,” he said “I’m Jake.. I only handle legal matters and contracts for J. W. Titus.”
A little embarrassed, I started to get up form the chair. “I am sorry,” I apologized, “I saw the name on the door and thought that...”
“That’s fine, Mr. Bently,” Titus said “It is an honest mistake made by a lot of folks who come to Portersville from back East. Please sit down and let me explain.”
Confused I reseated myself and the lawyer closed the book on his desk and handed me a tin type of an attractive woman dressed like a cow boy and mounted on a powerful looking horse. She looked like she knew how to ride too. “That is my wife,” Titus said “J. W. stands for Jean Wellington and of course she is married to me , hence Titus. She is the writer you are looking for.”
“Mrs. Titus is J. W Titus?”, I said “But I thought....” Jake cut me off.
“You figured any one who told stories like she does had to be cowboy or rancher and all else that is part of living out here in the Territory.,” he said.
“Well, yes,” I replied “But it makes no difference. I enjoy her stories and read them all the time. It was J. W. Titus who inspired me to come West from New York and start a new life.”
“Jean has lived here all her life, Mr. Bently,” Jake said “she has a real talent for taking words and making stories out of them. It took me a coon’s age to get her to try publishing one, but now that is just a common occurrence in our life. We are married now for twenty years and have a daughter. Susanna Faye is her name, and she is a story teller like her Ma, but I think she’ll make a right fine lawyer one day.”
“I am sure she will, Mr. Titus,” I replied “Well, thank you for your time, sir. And please pass on my regards to Mrs. Titus. I will be waiting to read her next book when it comes out.”
“Should be around Thanksgiving, Mr. Bently,” Jake replied “That was what the publisher said in the last letter I received.”
“Thanks,” I will look forward to that.” As I was preparing to leave, Titus pulled a sliver watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. “It’s nearly 12:00,” he said “I always go home for lunch. How would you like to join me, meet my wife and visit with her for a little while.”
I was stunned that this man would make such a offer to me, a stranger, but no less a devoted fan of his wife’s craft. “I’d like that, Mr. Titus,” I said “Sure it wouldn’t be a lot of trouble?”
“Heck no,” Jake replied as he reached for his black hat that hung near the door, “J. W. talks about New York City all the time and wants to go there one day. I think, she’d love to hear what it is like from a cowboy who used to live there.” At that he put his hat on and walked to the door. “Come on, Mr. Bently, my mule is over at the livery getting groomed.” As we stepped out the door, and glanced up the street, I saw a very elegant looking horse and rider coming at a brisk trot. It was a beautiful white stallion and the woman on his back was riding side saddle, a crop in her hand as she held her reins in a way I had never seen before. As she approached I could see she was dressed in black velvet from head to toe. She saw us and drew her prancing horse to a halt. I will never forget her face, as she was probably one of the most exotic looking women I have ever seen with her black hair and mysterious dark eyes. “Good Morning, Mr. Titus,” she said “I trust you are well.”
Jake tipped his hat “Indeed I am, Contessa,” he replied “And you.”
“I am tolerable, sir,” she replied in a accent I thought might be Italian. “Have you seen Kane Wolf today?”
“Has Rani thrown a shoe?”, Jake asked
“No,” the Contessa replied “He needs a trim.”
“That is a mighty fine horse,” Jake said “If you ever want to sell, I want to buy .”
The smile that lit her elegant face was like the morning sun, she was truly breath taking. “My Rani is not for sale, Mr. Titus,” she said “But soon my mare will foal, and then we shall talk business then.”
“Indeed we shall, Madame,” Jake replied . Then suddenly he remembered I was standing next to him, still spellbound by the mere presence of this great lady. “This is Jerrod Bently,” he said , introducing me, and Mr. Bently, this fine lady is La Contessa Francesca Della Bellezza. She comes to us from Italy.”
She extended her gloved hand to me. As though in a dream I reached out to take it and raised it to my lips. “I am charmed, Madame,” I said gallantly and hoped I did not sound like a complete clod, falling over myself.
“I am pleased to meet you Mr. Bently,” she replied as she gathered her reins. “Are you and you wife attending the church social on Sunday?”she directed to Jake Titus.
“We expect to, Contessa,” Jake replied “Hope to see you there.”
“May be you shall,” she said with a pert smile, “Have a pleasant day, gentlemen”. And at that she rode away.”
Staring after her, I was amazed. Had I just met a queen or a duchess?
“She’s mighty impressive,” I heard Jake say. “She keeps things interesting around here.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Italian nobility,” Jake replied, “Her husband is Count Donato Peitro Bellezza and he has his hands on the steam boat trade. A very wealthy man to say the least.”
It was quite a day. I had met a real Italian Countess and now I was going to meet J. W. Titus in person. I had just walked in to the right place at the right time. Well, to make a long story short, I did ride out to Jake Titus’s place, a good size cattle ranch called The Double J, and met J. W. Titus. She was quite a lady. But it was late in the day. Sam had gone back to camp and I figured I better head back there myself . Jake Titus had gone back to town to finish his lawyering, Doc had Ned locked up and I figured I’d done all I needed to do and rode back to camp.

+++++++++++++++


When Sam got back to the cattle camp late that afternoon, she hitched the mules to the chuck wagon and sent for Floyd Jax. She wanted him to drive it back to town and help Scrub Pot load it. While she waited , Sam took to brushing Trouble. That was when she heard some one coming up behind her. After being shot at by a would be outlaw, Sam was a little jumpy, and her hand went instantly to the handle of her knife.
“I am looking for Sam Dodge,” the voice behind her said. She recognized that Scottish burr and turned around to face Angus Watson. “You are looking at her,” she said. Angus was stunned. “No, lassie,” he said “Sam Dodge the ramrod of this outfit.”
“Mr. Watson,” she said “I am Sam Dodge. Samantha Ann Dodge.” It did not seem to phase Angus Watson that the person he knew as Sam Dodge was really a lovely young woman instead of the “young man” he thought her to be.
“I want to get married,” he said. Sam went on brushing her stallion. “Then get married,” she replied. Then it hit her. “Who is the bride?” she asked recalling that she was the only female on the crew.
“Oh, lassie,” Angus said reverently “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever known. I want to marry her properly, not as she has told me of how her people marry.”
“Trade horses for a wife?” Sam asked knowingly.
“Aye lassie,” Angus replied “I am so deeply in love with this woman. I want to marry her and take her home to Scotland with me.” Sam was trying hard to keep a straight face. “So, I take it you have met an Indian woman.”
“Ah yes,” he replied rapturously “And never have I met one so fair.”
“Bird that Talks,” Sam thought to herself “That squaw Grandfather is plagued by.”
Noticing her thoughtful expression, Angus cut in on her silence. “Is there something wrong, lassie?,” he asked. Sam turned back to grooming Trouble. “No,” she said “ But I think I can help you.”
“You know where I can find a priest who will marry us?” Angus inquired hopefully.
“Well,” Sam said “ He isn’t a priest, but he is a preacher and that is the same thing in my book . He should be here pretty soon.”
“Then I shall propose to my lady love and we will prepare for our wedding.” Angus said joyfully and as quickly as he had appeared, he vanished into the woods. Sam left her horse for a moment and went to the back of the chuck wagon and crawled inside to her bunk where she took out a piece of paper and wrote a note to her Grandfather. This she placed in Floyd Jack’s hand as he was about to climb into the wagon seat. “Give this to Scrub Pot when you get back to town and tell him I need him to get back here as quickly as he can.”
“Sure , Miss Sam,” Floyd replied as he snapped the reins over the backs of the mules. “I saw you talking to Watson,” he said “Is he all right? He seemed a little dazed when he come in there this morning.”
“Couldn’t be better,” Sam replied “Now get back to town and give that note to my Grandfather. ”
The wagon rumbled away. There was going to be a wedding in camp, and Watson would be gone away with his new wife and Sam could move the herd on across the territory without any hindrance from him.


The Church Social


Old Pede was at least a hundred years old give or take a few years, but he still got around, still liked to tip the bottle, but always turned up in time at the Johansen Livery to groom any horse that needed grooming and clean all 27 stalls. He’d done this for almost forty years. Hap Johansen’s pappy hired him, Hap Jr. Grew up hearing Pede’s strange stories about Indians, snakes and insects, and Hap the III, well he was more interested in Jake Titus’s daughter, Suzy than he was in old Pede.
Pede, though he liked to drink, he did his best to attend church and had agreed to help out with the social, as one of the many odd jobs the man did around Portersville. Early Sunday morning, it rained. The streets of Portersville were muddy, but undaunted by the weather the ladies of the First Methodist Church left the service after 9:00 to prepare for the long planned and prepared for, Church Social that afternoon. Victoria Langford was relieved when she glanced up at the sky and saw the sun peeping through the moving clouds. May be it would dry out enough for her to have Old Pede and his grandson set up the tables and chairs outside and hang a few of the paper decorations the children had made in Sunday School. Covered dishes had begun to arrive and the bearers were directed to the modest church hall where a long table waited and in the middle of that very table, in a place of honor was Victoria’s three layer jam cake. It was beautiful. Frosted with butter creme frosting and decorated with sugar roses and piping. It was a mouth-watering treat to be sure and for the lucky person who held the winning raffle ticket, it would be a delectable prize. As Victoria checked her list of things to do, she glanced over at her masterpiece sitting in its place of honor and smiled. It looked a little like a wedding cake, similar the one she shared long ago with Jack Langford. She had thought they’d be together forever, but the “death do them part” came too soon on the battle field at Shiloh. He’s been gone for over ten years and the memories no longer filled her with grief and loneliness. Victoria only remembered the good of the few years they’s had together and moved on with her life. Now, the thought of Doc Stevens always seemed to make her smile. Maybe he’d show up early and help her get things arranged. It would be good to have him and Nate Travis to help. Still the fact that Doc had not come out and asked her to the Social bothered her a little. Why hadn’t he just come out and asked? He’d dropped enough hints but that was all.
“Where would you like me to set up the chairs, Miss Victoria?” It was Nathan Travis who just walked in to the church hall. “It is clearing up a little outside, but I don’t trust it yet,” the ranger added.
“Good morning, Captain Travis,” Victoria responded “ I am glad you could come. Have you seen Doc this morning. I had hoped he’d be in church.”
“No Ma’am,” Nathan said “Can’t rightly say I have seen him for a while. Must be busy over at the jail. Is Mrs. Bradford here?”
“Yes,” Victoria said with a smile “And when I told her you were coming to help us get ready for the party, she was pleased.”
A broad smile crossed Nate’s face “That is mighty fine to know, Miss Victoria,” he said. “I have been wanting to see her since we went out for a buggy ride the other day.”
He was such a handsome fellow and Victoria knew that her friend had grown quite fond of him since they’d become acquainted, but she also knew that Texas Rangers were discouraged from marrying, due to the dangerous nature of their work.

Now over at the church everything was going well. The weather was clearing up and it might just turn out to be a nice day after all. But, not everybody was having a good day.
Doc left his hotel room and went over to the sherif’s office to make sure that Ned Travis had been given his breakfast and a chance to read a little from the bible. Doc had had a thorn in his side since his old friend, Nate Travis had mentioned Victoria Langford and the church social in the same breath. Maybe Doc was more annoyed with himself for feeling so jealous. But that jealousy over thinking Victoria was going to the social with Travis had to be caused by only one thing. He was in love with her and he’d once sworn that he’d never get involved with such things again. The tragic loss of his young wife years ago had been more than he could take. He’d loved her and she’d died. But then, Victoria had suffered a similar loss and that was where Doc began to empathize and understand that he was not alone in the loneliness that grief leaves us with. “I don’t know how you let me know this, Lord,” he said to himself as he walked down the street “But she is the one and I don’t have to have courted her for years to know.”
“What did you say?”, a voice said from inside the door of the sherif’s office.
“Ah, nothing,” Doc replied as he walked in. “Howdy, Pede. How’s our guest?”
“Well,” the old man began “I brought him the breakfast that Mrs. Johansen made for him and he wolfed it down like he was starving. But he told me to keep my bible shut.”
“Figures,” Doc replied. “Thanks’s Pede,”
“Say, sherrif?” the old man questioned “Did you and Mister Jake know that you got centipedes in the jail?”
“If that is all there is around this place, we are lucky, “ Doc replied with a grin. “But I think maybe a few bed bugs for our guest would be all right with me.”
“I can get rid of them bugs if you want me to,” Pede said. “Use coal oil and whiskey to do it.”
“I’ll talk to Jake,” Doc said as he sat down in his chair.
“I’m heading back over to the church,” Pede said “Gonna help Miss Victoria get ready for the party today. You coming’ Sherrif?”
“Don’t rightly know,” Doc said as he reached into the drawer for a new cigar. “Titus is still waiting on the judge and I guess I should be here to meet him. “
”Miss Victoria sure will be disappointed if you didn’t come,” Pede encouraged.
Doc pulled his hat down over his eyes and put his feet up on the desk in front of him “If Titus don’t have me taking that yahoo to prison, I’ll try to stop by the church.”
Why had he put Pede off? He was going to be at that social and he was planning to have Frances Bradford on his arm too. If Victoria was attending the social with Nate Travis, Doc was going to attend it with the Widow Bradford.
Victoria remembered she had left her shawl back at her cottage when she went to pick up the cake at the shop earlier that morning. There was a chill in the air after the rain so, mentioning where she was going to Fran, she left the church hall, leaving Fran and Nathan to spend a little time in private. Where was Doc? She was feeling a little disappointed that the social was ready start, people were arriving and he had not shown up. “May be I am being foolish,” she told herself as she unlocked her front door. That little voice inside her head kept saying “have faith.” She saw her shawl, draped across the back of her rocking chair and for a moment remembered a recent buggy ride with Doc Steven, when she had felt a chill and he and wrapped that very shawl around her shoulders and she knew from the look she saw in his eyes, that he was very serious about courting her. “Faith,” Victoria told herself as she threw the shawl over her shoulders and started back to the church.

“That was a mighty good dinner you fixed the other night, Miss Frances,” Nathan Travis complimented, “My Ma couldn’t cook a trout that well.”
Frances Bradford giggled as she arranged candles on the table “Yes, it was good,” she replied “But the best part of it was watching you catch it in the brook.”
“It was kind of you to dry my clothes out for me after the swim I took,”Nathan replied. Fran blushed a little and it made Nathan smile. She was such a pretty woman the thought to himself. “I was glad I didn’t give away all of my husbands clothes,” she commented. She looked to see Preacher Wilks walking toward them. “That was a wonderful sermon this morning,” Fran complimented as he approached, a large basket of rolls on his arm. “I always like the saying “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” the reverend replied. “Here is the bread Almeda promised .” Fran took the basket from him. “This is Nathan Travis,” she said as Nate politely turned from his work with a lantern. “He is from Texas.” The ranger offered the man his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Reverend,” he said.
The two men shook hands, “Like wise, Captain Travis,” Wilks said with a twinkle in his blue eyes“,I’ve heard about you being here on business with the Texas Rangers.”
“Will be taking a wanted man back to Texas.,” Nathan replied. Wilks noticed the disappointed expression that flashed across Frances Bradford’s face. “Don’t hurry to leave, sir,” Wilks said, “Today is Sunday and all that food on those tables looks mighty tempting. Let Mrs. Bradford show you around and introduce you to some of the good citizens of our fair town.”
“I will see that Captain Travis is well looked after,” Fran promised as Wilks walked away. People were arriving for the festivities, some had been there since the early church service, others came along with their families from the out lying regions around the town. It was going to be a good crowd.
Victoria wrapped in her shawl, walked into the church hall, picking up a small box that would be the repository for all the raffle tickets that had been sold during the past week. The tables were laid with piles of baked goods, cold meats, breads and cheese and a huge punch bowl. But there in the center of it all was Victoria’s masterpiece, the three layered jam cake she has spent many hours baking and decorating. It would be going home with the lucky person who held the winning ticket, or so she thought. There were quite a few people in the hall now, but as she looked around, she did not see Doc Stevens among them.
“Victoria,” Fran said “Your cake is just beautiful. Someone is going to really be happy when the lucky number gets called.” Victoria smiled back at her. “I hope so, Fran,” she replied. Reverend Wilks was about to take the podium, when Fran noticed him repeatedly clearing his throat. “I am going to get some water for him,” she said “Excuse me.” The young widow walked away in search of a water pitcher for the parched clergyman and left Victoria and Nate to chat. “I want to thank you for fixing things up so I could see Frances again” he said “She is a fine woman. She’s a good shot with a six gun and I think she caught more fish than I did at the creek the other day.”
Victoria smiled warmly and reached out, touching Nathan on the shoulder “I am so glad that you two are getting along so well,” she said. Nathan reached up and patted her hand. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have missed out on spending today with her.”
That was all Doc needed to see as he stepped through the open door of the church hall. That famous temper of his began to boil, for all he saw was Nathan Travis making time with Victoria Langford. When Victoria glanced toward the door and saw him standing there, his black hat squarely on his head, dressed in his well fitting dungarees, white shirt, fancy boots and that silver star pinned to his black vest. Yes, he sure was a fine figure of a man and at that moment she realized that her annoyance with his failure to ask her to the social had passed. She knew right then that she was in love with him and wanted to be with him. She smiled as she took a step toward him, but there was something in his eyes that put a damper on everything. Doc strode up to her and Nathan Travis. “Hello , Victoria,” he said formally, a cold ring to his tone. “Looks like you and Nathan have been enjoying the social.” Nathan caught the barb of jealousy in his old friend’s words.
“Now Doc,” he started “Don’t you go doing something foolish.” The deputy turned angry hazel eyes to the Texas Ranger. “Even when we were kids, you messed with the girls I liked,” Doc hissed “I see you haven’t changed a bit, Travis.”
Nathan rose to his feet. “Doc,” he said “You don’t understand. I am not here with Victoria.” Doc cut him off. “Then why were you two all cozied up like you were when I came in.”
“Cozied up?”, Victoria spit angrily “What are you talking about? I just got here.”
“You got to make a choice here and now, Victoria,” Doc scowled “And it better not be Nathan Travis.”
“What are you talking about?”, Victoria defended. His jealous anger got the better of him and instead of pulling his gun, like everyone who was tensely watching thought he might, he walked over to the table where Victoria’s cake stood in all its delectable grandeur.
“I’ll talk to him,” Nathan whispered as he walked away. Victoria stood there watching the two men afraid of what might happen. Nathan stepped up next to Doc as he stood there admiring the food and the cake. “Mighty pretty cake, isn’t it, Nate,” Doc commented.
“Yes,” Nathan replied “I helped Miss Victoria carry it and all that other stuff in this morning while I was waiting.....” Doc cut him off “Waiting for what, Travis?”, he ground out “For her to tell me to get lost.”
“No, you idiot,” Nathan snapped, “I was helping her.”
“I just bet you were.” Doc stated. People were starting to stare and look a little worried as the tension mounted. Nathan gave Doc a scathing look. “I ain’t talking to you when you are like this, you son of a coyote.” he stated and turned to walk away. “I’ll see you later when you are ready to talk sense.”
“I’m ready to do that right now,” Doc replied, a second later, the beautiful three layer jam cake was smashed over the head of Nathan Travis. Cake and frosting were everywhere, in his hair, in his eyes all over the upper half of his body. “Why you snake,!” Nate roared as he scraped the frosting from his eyes. On seeing what had happened, Frances, dropped the pitcher she was carrying and it shattered on the floor, water and glass going everywhere. “Hope you enjoy your cake, Travis,” Doc sneered as he turned to walk away “Just remember, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Nathan glanced over at Fran’s terrified expression and the one of fury on Victoria’s face. “We ain’t done, Doc,” he shouted after him as he made for the door.
Nathan went after him and collared him before he could walk out. A cake smearing , frosting flinging fight ensued as the two men crashed together and to the floor. That was when Old Pede decided to deck the postmaster and when he got up off the floor, a brawl began.
Upon arrival at the church, Jake Titus hearing all the commotion handed the reins of his team over to his wife and jumped down from the buck board. He saw two men smeared with cake and what appeared to be strawberry jam at his feet fighting and too much going on for a quite church social. He shouted for them all to stop, but no one heard. That was when he drew his gun and fired into the air. That stopped the brawling.
“ Alright!”, he shouted “Now that I have your attention. Will one of you tell me what is going on here? This is supposed to be a church social, not a bar room brawl.!”
Doc scrambled to his feet, his black hat across the room, cake and jam in his hair and beard, and a very angry Nathan Travis started to walk away. At first Jake wanted to laugh at the sight of them, but he was in no position to. “Doc?” he said “What the blazes happened here?”
“Two jealous school boys,” Victoria stated in blazing anger as she and Fran swept past Jake and left the hall. “I want you to throw them both in jail, Jake.”, she added. Now that put Jake Titus in a bad position. Doc was his deputy and hopefully the next sherrif of Portersville and Nathan Travis was a Texas Ranger and a Captain at that. Things were calming down and though there was a mess where the fight had broken out, tables were spared and the only casualty had been Victoria’s cake and one water pitcher . Some how , Reverend Wilks made it to the podium and on seeing a signal that things were under control from Jake Titus, he gave the blessing and invited all the folks who had run when the fight started to come back and enjoy the food and fellowship. Jake marched Doc and Nathan outside into the church yard. “You boys better come with me,” he said sternly “I want to know what started all this and why you both are wearing that cake.”
“You going to lock us up, Jake?”, Doc asked a little worried.
“If I have to,” Jake replied “But it will be down right embarrassing. Now the two of you come along.” Jake stopped by his buckboard, where his wife and daughter waited. “J.W. go over to the hotel and get me some towels,” he said “I want these two to clean themselves up.”
“What happened, Jake?,” his wife asked.
“Don’t know yet, but I am going to find out,” he replied. Suzy Titus was looking around the church yard for someone from her perch on the back of the wagon. “Daddy”, she said as she climbed down. “I am going to help clean up inside,” she said.
“That would be nice, honey,” Jake replied “But when I come back and if I catch you with Hap Johanson III, he’s going to jail.”
She gave her father a saucy look as she walked passed him. Oh yes, Suzy Titus would find Hap III and they’d go off to the cemetery to share a first kiss, but as for locking the boy up, well, Jake had already give up on the idea. His little girl was becoming a woman and he had to let go. Besides that, Hap III wasn’t so bad. He’d heard from Hap Jr. That his son had just joined the cavalry. He smiled as he followed Doc and Nathan to the sherif’s office.

J. W. Titus showed up with towels and a bucket of hot water from the hotel and handed it all to Jake. “What is going on?” she asked as her husband took the bucket from her and set it down on the floor. “Two grown men acting like fools,” Jake replied “But as soon as these two get cleaned up I aim to get an explanation out of them. Now go on back to the church and see if you can help get things back to normal.” His wife left and Jake delivered the bucket and towels to Doc and Nathan who were still both snarling at each other and covered from head to toe with Victoria’s jam cake.
“All right, you two,” Jake said sternly “ start talking’ and it better be good.”
“He’s going after my girl,” Doc stated hotly as he scraped frosting out of his hair “Victoria and me , we’re courting.”
“After your girl?”, Nate questioned as he washed the remnants of cake off his face “I wasn’t after anybody but Frances Bradford.”
Doc was thunderstruck and stared at his friend as he dried his face on a clean towel. “The widow?”
“Yes, you old coot,” Nate snapped “Been wanting to court her since I got here, but you never gave me a chance to tell you about it.” Suddenly Doc became contrite. “You weren’t with Victoria?” he said, now ashamed of his behavior.”
“No,” Nate replied defensively “I was there to help her set up and to meet Frances. That woman loves you, Doc. She talks to me about you all the time and if I were you, I’d marry her before someone else comes along and asks her.”
Jake nodded his head, “So we have a misunderstanding here.” he said. “You boys shake hands and then you both better go find Victoria and Frances and get things right.”
“Nate,” Doc said “I am sorry. I lost my temper and...”
“Ain’t nothin’ we haven’t done before, Doc,” The ranger replied with a grin “We’ve been friends all our lives and I forgive you, but will Victoria?”
“I know Victoria Langford very well,” Jake interjected. “She’ll be mad for a while, but she will get over it.”
“You words to God’s ears, Jake,” Doc said worriedly.
“Alright you two,” Jake said “Now that you got the cake out of yer ears , go on and make it right with the women. By now, J.W. and Suzy have gotten things under control over at the church and I’ve got some work to do before the judge gets here tomorrow.”
“The Judge ain’t sendin’ me back to Texas!,” Ned Travis shouted from his cell.
“Shut up, Ned,” Nate snapped “You mind what few manners you got.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


The door of Jake’s law office opened up and a well dressed man stepped inside. He was a big man, with bushy white hair and mutton chop sideburns. He carried a leather valise in his hand. Titus looked up from his desk and lay down his pencil. “Judge Douglass,” he said as he rose to his feet “Good to see you again, Your Honor.” The Judge had a grip like a vice, but then so did Jake Titus and he always one upped anyone who tried him. The judge grimaced as he withdrew his hand. “Mornin’ Jake,” he said “You got the key to the court house?” Jake pulled opened the left top drawer of his desk and sifted through a stash of carefully tied and labeled keys. “Got it right here, ” he said as he handed the man a ring of silver keys. “It’s the one with the red paint on the top,” he added.
“How’s your wife Jake?”, the Judge asked.
“Just fine, Your Honor,” Jake replied “She and Suzy are over at the church helping get things cleaned up. We had some big doin’s over there yesterday..”
“J.W. is a fine story teller, Jake,” the Judge said “Enjoyed her last story very much and so did Mrs. Douglass.”
“Glad to know that, Sir,” Titus replied as he reseated himself in his chair and motioned the judge to have a seat opposite him.
“I will pass that on to her,” Jake said.”and I am sure she will be pleased.”
“Well, Jake,” the Judge began, putting all small talk aside. “I got your letter saying you had never caught up with Sherif Dunham, so I figured you ought to be sworn in as sherrif of Portersville. Us not being a state here and all, there ain’t much pay for the job.”
“I thank you for your offer sir,” Jake replied “But I am not your man.”
“What are you taking about Titus?,” Douglass said,”You have kept order here since Dunham disappeared. You’ve done a fine job of it too, I hear.”
“I have done what I have had to do, Your Honor,” Jake answered “But recently I found a man who is far better at enforcing the law than I ever was.”
“And who might this man be?”, Douglass asked raising a white eye brow as he spoke. “And how much will it cost me to hire him. That is even if he will take the job.”
“Elliot Stevens,” Jake said proudly “The man is a former Texas Ranger and for good while, now, he’s held down the sheriff’s job and been courting Miss Victoria in his spare time.”
“Mrs. Langford is a fine woman,” the Judge comented “and the best cook in town too. Now, when can I meet this man.”
“He’s gone over to the Livery,” Jake said “Old Pede was going to groom his horse for him. Said he had something special to see to and he wanted that black of his shining like a new 5 dollar gold piece..”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Victoria was still angry over the events of that fateful Sunday, when she opened the shop early Monday morning and started making bread dough. How could two grown men have embarrassed her and Frances Bradford so badly.
“Childish.” she said out loud as she mixed the butter and milk together and prepared to the yeast. “I surely would have thought better of him than to ruin the social by smashing my cake in that ranger’s face.” She had been up all night nursing her anger and hurt, but no matter how hard Victoria Langford tried, she could not stay angry with Doc and knew that she would ultimately forgive him, but he had to make it right first. Just how right Doc Stevens was going to make things was about to unfold right there in the kitchen of the bake shop.
Smokey Joe had never looked shinier or pranced so beautifully as Doc rode him down the street from the livery. He and Joe understood one another and it sure seemed to anyone who saw them together that they could communicate just as clearly as two people might. That horse was a looker and every head turned as they passed. Ladies paused as they traversed the boardwalk.
”Good Morning, Sherrif,” one said as she smiled at him as he rode by. Doc grinned back and tipped his hat. “That’s a fine looking horse, Sherrif.,” the barber called out as he unlocked the door of his shop. “Thanks,” Doc returned as he rode on. He saw Wakeeze standing outside the black smith’s shop. Scrub Pot was visiting Kane Wolfe and soon would be heading back to the cattle camp. Doc pulled the black to a halt and waited for him to come out. Soon the old man walked out of the door with as rasp in his hand. He stooped over and picked up the paint’s right front foot and began to file out a broken spot in the hoof. Then he glanced up to see Doc sitting quietly on his horse. “Are you coming back with me or not?,” Scrub Pot said.
“At this point, Zachariah, I don’t know.,” Doc replied. “Got some unfinished business to attend to.”
Scrub Pot shook his head. .”You have been eating fancy pies and cakes for days,” he said “It’s that woman you want isn’t it.”
“If she will have me,” Doc replied worriedly.
“After you smashed that cake over Travis’s head, she will probably throw you out in the street.”Scrub Pot stated.
“Well,” Doc said “If she does that, then I guess I’ll be heading back to the herd.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“I am needed here, Zachariah,” Doc replied.
“It is a calling with you, Doc,”, Scrub Pot replied “I’ve known it since your days with the Rangers. You will be very successful here. The people already are at ease knowing you are about to take the job.”
“Yup,” Doc said distractedly “But I have to have a conversation with one golden haired lady and then I will make a final decision.”
“A woman never stopped you before,” Scrub Pot said as he filed away.
“Never was one like her before, Zachariah,” Doc replied “I believe she is the one.”
Scrub Pot finished his work and turned to go back into Kane’s shop.“I’ll see you back at camp.”, he said “She was pretty upset with you last night.”
“Watch that paint, “ Doc said “He’s looking pretty mean today.”
Scrub Pot shot him a sour look. “He is fine.”, he glowered “Like I said. I’ll see you back at camp.”
Doc moved Smokey Joe forward “Don’t count on it.” he said firmly. The old man laughed as watched him ride away. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Victoria calmed down , forgave Doc for his little indiscretion and the two would continue their courtship.

Doc looked like a true hero of the West as he rode up to Victoria’s cottage between the church and main street. He straightened his hat, dismounted from his silver studded saddle, and strolled to the door. Now, Doc was not a man who had a lot of time for emotions, he was a law man, but when it came to Miss Victoria, he’d changed, and his feelings for her were real and honest and he had to make things between them right. “In your hands I leave this Lord,” he prayed as he knocked on the closed front door. There was no answer. Doc waited and knocked again. Still now answer. “Victoria?”, he called out. No answer. The door was locked.
She was probably at the shop getting ready for her usual Monday customers. So he climbed back into his saddle and rode down the street to the bake shop. As he tied the black’s reins to the hitching rail, he saw there was a light in the back where the kitchen was. Hoping she had not locked the door, he stepped up tried it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was open. He’d spent a lot of time with the Indians when he was young and he had learned how to move soundlessly just as they did . He hoped he would not startle her too much when he saw her at the counter, kneading bread dough, her back to him. He watched for a moment, almost afraid to speak. “I can’t say as I blame you for being angry with me, Victoria,” he said quietly. She just kept kneading the dough and was quiet for a moment.
“I am very disappointed and hurt,” she said finally “You did not even listen to Nate Travis and you smashed my cake,” she added tightly ‘You acted like a jealous school boy and made a spectacle of yourself and Captain Travis. Fran is beside herself and I am so embarrassed. “
”What can I say, Victoria,” Doc replied contritely “I am a jealous man, when it comes to the woman in my life.”
“Doc,” she sighed as she added more flour “You had nothing to be jealous of. Captain Travis was at the church to help me set things up. He was waiting for my friend, Frances to arrive. His interest is in her. Not me.”
Doc looked down at the floor. “I am sorry,” he said “That is all I can say. May be I ought to gather up my things and head back to the cattle drive.”
Victoria stopped kneading her dough and turned to look at him, then dropped it in a large crock and covered it with a checkered towel. “What about Jake Titus?” she asked as tears burned in her brown eyes. “You know we need you here.”
Doc went to her, reaching out and taking her hands in his. She let him. “What about you, Victoria,?” he said quietly “Do you need me?”
She was quiet, biting her lower lip. “My husband died a long time ago, Doc,” she said “I have met other men since his death, but there was no sparks or fire with them. Then you came into my shop that day with Jake and I knew right away that I wanted to be with you. Call it fate, love at first sight, but please know that I do not want you to go. Not now, not ever.”
He drew her into his arms and held her close. “Marry me, Victoria,” he whispered. “I never thought I ‘d feel like this again after the war and losing my wife. Truth is, you are a real lady, and I will be a good husband if you will give me the chance.”
She drew back and looked into his misty hazel eyes. “Doc?”
“Yes,” he answered hopefully.
“Did you just propose to me?”
“I did.” he replied, What do you say Vic? Marry me and we will make a good life together.”
“I accept your proposal, Elliot Stevens,” she replied with a warm smile “And I will love you always.”
“You mean it?,” he said afraid she might have mispoken.
“With all my heart,” she replied.
He kissed her as he had been wanting to kiss her since the day they met. When he broke away, that cockeyed smile crossed his face. “Well,” he said happily “I’ll be a monkey’s but.”
Victoria laughed until there were tears rolling down her face. “Not that, my love,” she said “try “uncle” next time.”
“I’ll try,” he said “But no promises, except to love, honor and cherish until death do us part.”
“That is good enough for me,” Victoria replied “But I don’t want to wait. Do you?”
“No,” Doc replied “Right now would be good enough for me if there was a preacher around.”
“We could see Reverend Wilks this afternoon,” she suggested.
“That suits me just fine,” Doc replied “and you have made me the happiest man alive today.”
“The Reverend should be at home this afternoon,” she added as she crossed to the front of her shop and hung up the “Closed” sign. Then a serious expression crossed Doc’s face as reached out to her and took her hands in his again. “Are you sure about this, Victoria,?” he said “I know I kind of sprung this on you, but I know you are the one for me and I kind of think you feel the same way.”
Her smile was warm and she never had looked more beautiful to him than she did at that moment. “Doc,” she said “ I am very sure that I want to be your wife, more than anything else in the world. And now, Mr. Stevens,” she added “I am going home to change my dress and I will meet you at the church at 1:00.”
He kissed her again. “I will be there,” he replied happily “and that is only in a half an hour, so hurry. No matter what dress you put on, Victoria, or how you wear your hair, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
“Thank you,” she said as they walked through the door arm and arm.

I believe there is such a thing as love a first sight and I think that is what hit Doc and Victoria on the day they met in the bake shop. Now back a while ago, before all this happened, Doc had gone on ahead of the herd with a list of supplies for Scrub Pot and he’d never come back. But no one in camp ever expected the turn of events that was coming next. Least of all Scrub Pot himself.

++++++++++++++++++++

As you might have guessed, Floyd Jax delivered the chuck wagon to Scrub Pot had ordered and then spent the better part of the day helping him load it in front of the general store. Now with the wagon full of staples, such as flour, sugar, coffee and canned items, Scrub Pot mounted to the driver’s seat and untied the reins from the break lever. He scowled at the lazy mules in front of him. He was still stinging over the idea that Doc was probably going to leave our out fit to become the new sherrif of Portersville. Sam had revealed her true identity to the crew and what else could happen before he got back to the herd? The old man did not want to know as he cracked his whip over the heads of his team.
“Get up mules!,”he growled as the heavy wagon moved forward. Floyd Jax sat next to him. The young man was tired, and the trip back to camp with this grumpy old Indian did not seem like it would not be a pleasant one. That was when he remembered the note Sam had given him. Floyd fumbled in his jacket pocket hoping it was still there. It was. Finding it, he pulled it out. “Miss Sam said I was to give this to you,” the drover said “I forgot I had it when we got to loading the supplies. Scrub Pot grunted and took it from him. Floyd looked around as they drove out of town, trying to ignore the sour look on Scrub Pot’s face. Then suddenly, the old man began to laugh. Floyd turned to him surprised, and stared.. “What’s so funny?, ” he asked.
“You didn’t read Sam’s note?”, Scrub Pot asked.
“No,” Floyd replied “It was written to you and besides that I can’t read anyway.”
“Too bad,” Scrub Pot replied as a wide grin crossed his face. “ I will share it with you.”
Now Floyd was interested. “All right. What is the news, Scrub Pot?”
“It seems I a needed back at the camp as soon as these mules can get us there,” he said “There is going to be a wedding.”
“A wedding?”, Floyd answered mystified by the idea “I knowed that Bently has it bad for Miss Sam, but...” Scrub Pot cut him off “Not Bently and my grand daughter,” he said “Angus Watson and that Pawnee Squaw who has made my life miserable for far too long.”
“Don’t you need a preacher for a weddin”?”, Floyd interjected.
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied proudly “And that would be me.”
“You’re a preacher?”, he inquired, completely shocked by the old man’s revelation.
“The Reverend Zachariah Dodge,” Scrub Pot replied proudly.
Floyd shook his head. “Now I knowed you weren’t like them injuns Bently talks about all the time, “ he said “But I had no idea you was an educated one, let alone a preacher man.”
“Ordained in 1863,” Scrub Pot replied proudly.
“Well I’ll be a monkey’s butt,” Floyd replied “I had no idea. I thought you was some kind of Indian chief.”
Scrub Pot just laughed and urged the mules to a quicker pace.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Doc looked up at the sky as he rode up to the parsonage next to the First and only Methodist Church of Portersville. It looked like it might rain, but he didn’t care. He was planning to marry the love of his life. He dismounted and tied the black to the hitching post outside the modest home of Reverend and Mrs. Dallas Wilks. He knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to answer. The door opened and there stood Alemda Wilks. Her matronly smile welcomed him.
“Why hello, Sherrif,” the woman said, as she tried hard to not think of the last time she had seen him’ with the remnants of Victoria’s jam cake all over him. Doc politely removed his black hat. “Afternoon, Ma’am”, he said “Is the Reverend at home today?”
“Is this an urgent matter, Sherrif,?” Mrs Wilks asked, a worried expression crossing her face.
“Well, Ma’am,” Doc drawled “In a way it is. I have asked Mrs. Langford to be my wife and we need your husband to marry us.”
A smile lit up her face and sparkled in her green eyes. “ Has Victoria given you her answer?,” Almeda asked excitedly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Doc replied respectfully “she said “yes”. Now if I may speak with the Reverend, we would like to be married this afternoon.”
Almeda ‘s smile faded. “I am so sorry, “ she said “Dallas has been very sick since the other night and the doctor says he has to stay in bed until he is better.”
Doc hid is disappointment well. “I am sorry to hear that Mrs. Wilks,” he said.
“Over in Clover Hill, ” she said, thinking of the best alternative to help the couple, “It is about a day’s ride. I am sure you could find a preacher who could marry the two of you. It is a small town, but I know there is a church there.”
Doc set his hat squarely back on his head. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilks,” he said formally “and I hope your husband is well soon.” At that he turned to walk away.
“What about the wedding, Sherrif?,” the church matron asked.
Doc turned back to look at her, that cock eyed smile on his face. “Oh, there is going to be a wedding, Ma’am,” he said confidently “I know just where I can find a preacher and it ain’t a day’s ride either.”
Mrs. Wilks watched him as he untied the black and swung into his saddle. “Do you want me to get the church ready?”, she asked.
“Yes Ma’am,” Doc replied as he turned his horse around to leave. “When Victoria gets here, tell her to wait for me. I’ve gone to get a preacher.”
“You can tell her yourself, Sherrif,” Mrs. Wilks said “She is walking up the lane right now.”
Victoria looked up to see Doc on his horse and moving toward her. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders as he rode up beside her and stopped . He saw the worry in her brown eyes and smiled , reassuring her. “I am going for a preacher, Victoria” he said.
“What has happened to Reverend Wilks?” she asked.
“He has taken ill, and can’t get out of bed,” he replied.
“But the next choice would be the rector over in Clover hill. That is a long ride,” Victoria said, disappointment in her words.
“I am going to fetch a friend of mine.” Doc stated “ and he will marry us today. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, Vic. I’ll be back in no time. You still want to marry me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Doc,” she replied , “but if we have to wait, we will.”
“There will be no waiting, Honey,” Doc stated “Give me till sundown and I will be back here with the Reverend Zachariah Dodge.”
Before she could reply, he leaned down from his saddle and swept her up with one arm, kissing her passionately and then let her down. “Wait for me, Victoria,” he said “I am coming back for you.”
She felt a little dizzy, but her feet were again firmly on the ground. No man had ever kissed her like that, not even the long dead Jack Langford. “I-I’ll be at my cottage,” she said
Doc’s black began to prance in anticipation of a good run. “I ‘ll be making you my wife the minute I get back here with Dodge,” he promised “So be ready.”
Her smile was radiant and her eyes bright and happy “Don’t worry, Elliot Steven,” she said “I will be waiting.”
He tipped his hat to her and gave Smokey Joe his head. That horse took off , throwing dirt clods and dust into the air behind him. Victoria waved after them as they disappeared into the distance. “My life begins anew,” she said in her thoughts, “God has brought you to me and I am ready for it with the likes of you, Elliot “Doc” Stevens.”
“Mrs. Langford?” It was Almeda Wilks bringing her back to reality. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Victoria replied “He has gone to fetch a preacher. Doc said he would be back by sundown. ”
The older woman smiled “The new sherrif is a man in love, “ she said “Do you want to come in for some tea?”
“No thanks, Almeda,” Victoria replied “I think I will go home for a while and tidy up the cottage.”
“I will have Pede unlock the church and get it ready.” Mrs. Wilks promised. That was when they heard the sound of carriage wheels on the lane not far away. It was La Contessa Francessca Della Beleeza driving her stallion and seated in an elegant two wheeled carriage. As always the Contessa looked beautiful, dressed in the latest equestrian attire and the black leather reins in her gloved hands. Seeing the other two women, she drew her Andalusion to a stop. “Good afternoon, ladies,” she said with a smile.
“Contessa. ,” Mrs. Wilks said with much admiration in her expression “It is so good to see you. How are you?”
“I am well, thank you.” she said “I saw the new sherrif ride off as though the devil was on his heels. Is everything all right?”
“Victoria was still watching in the direction Doc has ridden. “Nothing is wrong,” she acknowledged “He has gone to fetch a preacher.”
The Contessa raised an eye brow in surprise. “A minister?”, she questioned “What ever for? Surely Dallas will well by Sunday.”
“Mr. Stevens has asked Victoria to marry him,” Mrs. Wilks bubbled joyfully “It is all so romantic!”
“Why is Dallas not performing the wedding?,” Francesca asked, her Italian accent not as strong as it had once been.
“The Reverend is sick,” Victoria replied “Doc said he would be back in a few of hours with a friend who is a minister.”
“Hmmm,” said the Contessa. “I believe there is going to be a wedding in Portersville tonight and we have little time to prepare.”
Victoria and Mrs. Wilks looked at each other. “Well,” Victoria began “I thought we ‘d say our vows and that would be it. We decided we didn’t want to wait.”
Francessca raised her hand. “Not a bit of it, Victoria,” she said “You deserve better. I have known you for many years. You were the first friend I made when I came here. Let me help you make tonight special for you and Sherrif Stevens.”
Victoria smiled. “How can I refuse, Francessca,” she replied “I need to keep busy while I wait for him to return or I will be a wreck.”
“I will ask Pede to put some of my garden flowers in the church and to light the lamps as soon as it starts to get dark. “ Almeda promised “ and when Sherrif Stevens gets back with the minister, I will play the organ for you to walk down the isle, Victoria.”
“Lohengrin?”, Francesca suggested.
“Yes,” Alameda Wilks promised. “I know it by heart.”
“And I will witness the vows for you if you like,” the Contessa said as she scooted over on the seat and patted the cushion next to her. “Let us go, Victoria,” she said “I think I may have the perfect dress for you to wear. It will be, as you say here in America “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Or maybe not.”
Victoria stepped up into the carriage. “Thank you Francessca,” she said “ I really didn’t make any plans at all. I was furious with him after a misunderstanding that led to the fight on Sunday. He came to see me to apologize and then he proposed.. Neither of us wanted to wait. We just were going to say our vows and start a life together.”
Francessca smiled reflectively “Yes,” she said “Sometimes love will not wait.” The carriage moved forward with a flick of the reins and the ladies rode off toward the Bellezza mansion that stood high on a hill over looking the small town of Portersville.

Doc pushed that black of his like he had never pushed him before. It was like a ride with the devil chasing them. All Doc could think of was that he had to catch up with Scrub Pot who was now hours ahead of him.


Two Weddings, One Preacher


“Join hands,” Scrub Pot instructed the couple in front of him. Angus had put on a clean shirt and Bird That Talks,( now called “Birdie”) wore a reasonably presentable tunic and Angus’s tartan shirt over it. She had on a long dark blue skirt and a belt around her ample waist that could have been long enough to go around two men. On her head, she wore a crown of wild flowers. “Buffalo that stomps,” Scrub Pot thought to himself. He looked down at the book in his hands. “Dearly beloved,” he began “We are brought here to this place in the sight of God and this company to join Angus Watson and “Birdie” in holy matrimony. If there be any man present who feels this union should not be made, speak now or forever hold your piece.” For a moment the old man felt nervous, fearful that someone might stand up and ruin his plans. No one did, so he went on with the traditional marriage service , an pair of odd, but star struck lovers before him.
Now Doc Stevens was kind of one sided about his need for a preacher and he had no idea that there was a wedding going on when he skidded into camp on his heaving lathered horse and shouting for Scrub Pot. The black was close to collapsing under him.
As Scrub Pot blessed the “ring” Angus had taken off his own finger to give to his bride, Sam dashed away from the group of drovers present to witness to the vows of Angus Watson and the love of his life, “Birdie” to see what was wrong.
“Doc?”, she questioned as he slid out of his saddle and tried to rub the soreness out of his lower back. “What is wrong?”
“I need Zachariah to come back to town with me right away,” he said hurriedly.
“Well, he is kind of busy right now,” Sam replied as she looked at the exhausted condition Smokey Joe was in. “Doc, you have run this horse too far. There is no way you are riding back to Portersville on him tonight.”
“Sam, I couldn’t help it. I had to get here fast,” Doc defended “Joe will be all right once he gets rested and fed. We’ve had many rides like this since he was broke.”
“Are you going to tell me what is going on?,” Sam asked firmly.
Doc grinned. “There’s nothing wrong, honey girl, “ he drawled “I need the old coot to come back to town to marry me and Miss Victoria.”
Sam was thunder struck. “What?”, she said. “May be I didn’t hear you right.”
“You heard me right, Sam,” he said as he was loosening Joe’s girth. “I asked Victoria Langford to marry me and she said yes.”
“Well,” Sam replied, surprised and a little shaken by her uncle’s news. “I’ll be a monkey’s butt.”
Doc laughed “How about “uncle” he said “It sounds more refined. Think my future bride likes it’s better too.” Sam threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly “Congratulations, Uncle Elliot,” she said “I am happy for you.
“It is time for me to settle down, Sam”, he said. “If I waited any longer it would be way too late and she is a fine woman.”
“Today has been a day of weddings,” Sam replied.
“For who?” Doc asked.
“Angus Watson and that old squaw he calls “Birdie.” she answered. Doc snickered to himself. “Bet Scrub Pot is glad to have performed THAT wedding!”
“He did not seem to mind.” Sam answered. Then Doc’s expression became serious. “Sam,” he said “I would never ask you this, if it wasn’t necessary, but if you have your mother’s wedding ring with you. Could I borrow it?”
“Borrow it?”, she asked.
“I will have to send to New Orleans for a proper wedding ring for Victoria,” he said “There ain’t no jeweler in Portersville or mostly likely anywhere in the Oklahoma Territory either.”
“I see,” Sam said “But you don’t have to borrow it,” she said “My mother was your sister and I know that you loved her very much. I will give you the ring for a wedding gift. I was too young to know if she and Pa were happy together or not, but I have heard that they were. So I wish the same for you.” She thought she saw a tear in his eye as he looked back at her. “ It is in the wagon with my things,” she said “I will get it.“
“Thank you, Sam,” he said. “And Honey?”
Sam paused as she started to climb into the back of the wagon and looked back at her uncle. “Your Pa and your Momma were very happy,” Doc added “Never knew to people who were so much in love as they were.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Angus Watson gazed lovingly at his rotund bride and repeated the vows as Scrub Pot read them. “With this ring,” he said “I thee wed.”
“Birdie:” batted her dark eyes and kissed air at him.” Scrub Pot felt his stomach lurch a little. “Now by the power invested in me by the Methodist Church, I pronounce that Angus Watson and Bird That Squawks ....”
“Talks!”, the bride interrupted, “Bird That Talks!” Scrub Pot glared at her and cleared his throat. “Are man and wife. Angus, you may kiss your bride.” And he did, long and passionately as Scrub Pot closed his bible and started to walk away.
“Zachariah!?”
The old man turned around to see Doc standing by the supply wagon and a grin lit his dark face. “So you have come back,” he said “Just like I predicted you would.”
“Not exactly,” Doc said slyly “I need your help.”
“So she didn’t throw you out on your ear,” the old man stated as the sounds of celebration rose behind him. After all he had just performed a wedding. A guitar and fiddle started to play.
“No, she didn’t,” Doc said “But she was pretty mad at me for a while. I proposed to her this morning and she accepted.”
“You old prairie dog,” Scrub Pot declared, “You are going to marry Victoria Langford?”
“I most certainly am,” Doc replied “And I need you to come back to town to do the service for us.”
“Why?”
“Because Preacher Wilks is sick in bed and we want to get married today, or this evening. Depending on how long I have to stand here jawing with you about it.”
Scrub Pot glared at him. “If it were anyone other than you Doc, I’d say no, but considering your history , I think that settling down with a fine woman like Victoria Langford will be good for you. May be you will do a little ranching, have some babies and you will be out of my hair.”
“Now Zachariah,” Doc defended “I ain’t been that bad, have I?”
“No indeed,” the old man replied with a grin “You and I have had many an adventure over the years but I think that now it is time for you to have more than that with that yellow haired woman. She needs you and so does Portersville.”
“May be so,” Doc agreed “Now. You are coming back with me. Or do I have to hog tie you and bring you along myself.”
“I’ll go,” Scrub Pot said “Just let me get my horse ready and we’ll ride.”
Sam came up to them, leading Trouble behind her. The stud was tacked and ready to go. “Uncle Elliot,” she said , as she handed him a small leather pouch that contained her mother’s ring. “I put Joe up. He is spent.” She then handed the reins of the stud over to him.
“Sam,” he said “I don’t know what to say, here. Trouble is your horse and...”
”He’s a good ride and he is fresh,” Sam replied “And he is just as fast as Joe is, maybe faster.”
“Thanks, honey girl,” Doc said “I’ll take real good care of him.”
“I know you will,” she answered “I’ll ride Smokey Joe back in the morning and pick my horse up. We’ll be moving on tomorrow.”
Scrub Pot rode up on Wakeeze and pulled his hat down on his forehead so it would not blow off. “I hope you can keep up, Doc,” he said wryly, and then kicked the paint the slats, Indian style, and was gone in seconds.
Doc swung into Sam’s saddle. “I am not going to take that from that old coot,” he stated. He tipped his hat to Sam.
“Be happy Doc,” she said “You deserve to it.” Trouble began to snort and side step, wanting to go. “All right,” Doc ordered “ Then go on and catch up with him.” The next second, they were tearing down the trail after the old man and his paint. Sam waved and grinned. “I sure hope he remembers how to stop that stud once he gets started.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Contessa and her housekeeper worked together at getting Victoria ready for her wedding. From her rather large and fashionable wardrobe, Francessca had chosen a beautiful dawn pink gown made of imported watered silk. It was a stunning piece that had come from a fashion house in Paris, France. It had a bustled skirt, and a three foot train that flowed behind and the bodice was a tight fit, which was in style. It was perfect for Victoria. The low cut decole’tege made her look radiantly alluring and the whole ensemble fit her like a glove.
“It is just perfect,” Victoria declared as she looked intently at her reflection in the mirror in front of her. “It is just beautiful,” she added “and I think Doc will really like it.”
Francessca smiled as she threaded her needle “Just one little row of stitches and it will truly be perfect,” she said. “I think it is you who makes the gown look so lovely, Victoria.”
“Aye, Ma’am,” the housekeeper agreed “With that little nip we made at the waist, it is now a perfect fit.”
“I love it,” Victoria giggled as she turned to look at the back of the dress “It is so elegant! But while we were make our choice of the dresses and working on the fit, I thought of someone I really would like to have at my wedding tonight” she said. “ Could we send a note to her? There is no time for me get the buggy and drive out to Clear Water Ranch. Doc could be back with that preacher any time.”
“Don’t worry.” Francessca replied as she tied off the thread at the end of her stitches and put her needle away. She crossed to her secretary that stood in the corner of the room. She took out some stationery and a pen and gave them to Victoria. “Write her a note and Sinie will see that it is delivered to The Bradford ranch.”
“Thank you, “, Victoria replied a she sat down and began to write.

Dear Fran,
I know this is very sudden, but please don’t worry. Everything is fine. Doc has asked me to marry him and we are saying our vows tonight at the church. Please come and stand up with me as my matron of honor.”


“Victoria,” Francessca said “Tell her to meet us here and to bring that ranger with her. He will be Doc’s supporter.”
“Yes,” Victoria agreed “,Doc probably did not think of asking someone to stand up with him.”
“I would say he was in a bit of a hurry when I pulled up with my cart,” The Contessa replied with a grin.
Victoria folded her note and slid it into the envelope that Francessca had given her and handed to Mary O’Riley , the Contessa’s Irish housekeeper.
“Tell Ira to saddle Banner’s Lady and deliver this note to Mrs. Bradford at the Clear Water Ranch.” Francessca instructed “Tell him to hurry as we do not have much time. “
As Francessca began to style Victoria’s long golden hair, they heard a horse and rider tear off down the lane to the main road. La Contessa smiled as she heard her prize racer thunder passed. That mare was a winner and racing season was not that far away.


Frances Bradford sat next to Nate Travis on her front porch swing. They had enjoyed a day of fishing out at Buzzard Creek and a picnic on the banks. They had been courting more or less for a while now. Frances forgave Nate for defending himself in the cake fight with Doc and they had been happy , but the widow also knew that Nate would have to leave soon to take his brother back to Texas to stand trial. It would not be easy for her to see him ride away.
“Iced Tea is good, Fran,” Nathan declared as he held up his empty glass.
“Would you like some more?”, Fran asked
“Yes, I would,” Nathan replied “But I’ll get it. You stay put. After catching all those trout today, especially that big one, you must be plumb tuckered out.”
Fran giggled. “You get to clean them,” she said “and cook them too.”
“As long as you got ice in that ice house of yours, they’ll keep just fine till tomorrow, Nate said “Then we will have us a fish fry.” As the ranger was getting up from the swing, he thought he heard a rider coming fast up the road that passed in front of Fran’s house.
“Do you know who it is?”, he asked, his hand on his gun.
“No,” Fran replied “But I think that horse is one that belongs to Francessca Belleeza.”
“The Contessa?”
“Yes.”
Ira O’Riley rode Banner’s Lady up to the front porch and removed his hat. “I have an urgent message for Mrs. Frances Bradford,” he said with his thick Irish brogue.
“I am Mrs. Bradford,” Fran replied as she rose from the swing. Ira handed the envelope to her over the railing. “Her ladyship says to come as quickly as you can,” he said as he turned the mare around and rode off.
Nathan Travis watched in wonder at the speed of that horse, as she left them as quickly as she had arrived.. He wondered if his long legged Tabasco could beat her in a race or not.”
Fran opened the envelope and began to read. “Nate!.” she cried “ It is from Victoria. She and Doc are getting married tonight. She wants us to meet her the Belleeza mansion right away.”
“Well, I be dogged.”, Nathan declared “ Stevens is finally taking the plunge.” He turned to Fran. “I will hitch up your team,” he said “You get changed and we will head out right away. I got to be there to see ole Doc take his vows!”

Now Portersville was a small town and everybody knew everybody and word travels fast and even before Nathan Travis and Frances Bradford arrived at the home of La Contessa Francessca Della Belleeza, word of the wedding of Doc Stevens and Victoria Langford was out.

+++++++++++++++++++

“I hope there is food when we get to town” Scrub Pot complained “I am starving. I have had to work today.”
“I imagine the boys at camp will be too,” Doc commented “ considering you left Floyd and Gus to do the cooking.”
Scrub Pot muttered something. “Lets ride,” he said “We will lose the light soon.”
Before too long the lights of Portersville began to wink on. At seeing them, Doc heaved a sigh of relief. His Victoria was waiting for him and as soon as he and Scrub Pot got washed up, he was going to make her his wife.

At the church, roses of white and pink graced the modest altar. The small sanctuary was bathed in the gentle light of the coal oil lamps. The windows were open to let in the fresh early evening air but inside the church and its parish hall there was a flurry of activity going on.
“Be careful with those,” Alemda Wilks instructed as one of the ladies placed her fancy candle sticks from St. Louis near the two vases of roses that had come from The Contessa’s garden. Victoria’s quiet wedding was not going to be anything like she and Doc had imagined. Every one was busy getting the ready for the wedding, and not a soul had noticed an unwelcome guest that had arrived, and was watching from the bushes outside the church. Seeing his chance, a rather large black and white critter scurried across the yard and under the front steps. This would be a good hiding place for him.
“Hey Pede! Where’s the broom?”, someone shouted across the sanctuary.
“Don’t know,” the old man said “Forgot where I put it.” On seeing it standing right next to Old Pede, Hap Johansen Jr. retrieved it and began to sweep . “Can’t have a wedding with sand and dust on the steps,” he said to himself. “You smell something, Pede?,” Hap asked as he finished sweeping.
The old man sniffed the air. “Pole cat somewhere,” he said and went back inside to help light the rest of the lamps.
As Doc and Scrub Pot rode into the church yard, there was a rousing cheer to welcome them from the citizens of Portersville. The circuit Judge stepped out of the crowd with Jake Titus at his side. The two men stopped right next to Doc as he was preparing to get off his horse. The soon to be sherrif of Portersville did not even have time to dismount. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Doc,” Jake said as he offered his hand, “Victoria is a fine woman. All the best. We had been looking for you till we heard about the wedding. Judge Douglass want’s to offer you a job.”
“Since I am going to be a married man soon,” Doc said as he and Scrub Pot slid off their horses. “I guess I will take it. Where is Victoria?.”
“She’ll be on her way in just a minute.,” Nate Travis said as he pushed through the crowd that was growing around Doc and Scrub Pot. “They are waiting for me to signal them. “You boys just come along with me,” the ranger added “I’ve got my orders.” He led the way with Doc and Scrub Pot arguing as they came along, followed up by the circuit Judge and Jake Titus.
Once sequestered in a small room off the back of the sanctuary, Judge Douglass stated his case. “I know this is not a good time, Mr. Stevens”, he said “You are about to get married, but Titus here has told me of the fine job you have done here and well, I’d like to offer you a hundred dollars a month, and swear you in right now.”
“A hundred and twenty five,” Doc replied firmly. Scrub Pot grinned as he dusted off the cover of his bible.
“That’s a lot of money, Mr. Stevens,” Judge Douglass complained.
“Gainful employment, Doc,” the old Indian said “You are a former Texas Ranger with much experience.”
“That is true,” Doc agreed “one hundred and fifty dollars, and you and Titus can swear me in right now.”
“Alright,” the judge said “Done. Now raise your right hand.”
It took less than ten minutes for Doc to promise to uphold the law in Portersville and his jurisdiction in the Oklahoma Terriory and for Jake Titus to hand him his silver badge. “Congratulation, Doc,” he said “On both counts. Now I am going to find J. W and get seated for the wedding.”
Doc’s head was spinning as everyone but Nate Travis and Scrub Pot left. “Before I give the signal for the bride to leave that big house up on the hill,”, Nate said “I am going to give you two a chance to get dusted off. Zachariah, you need anything for the service?”
“No,” Scrub Pot replied as he turned to the correct pages in his bible. “I have it all right here. This will be the second time today I have read these words.”
“All right,” Nate said “You have five minutes. Oh yeah”, he added. “The Contessa says I am your “Supporter”, Doc.”
“Supporter?” Doc groused “What is that? Something to wear?”
“That is what they call the “best man” over where the Contessa comes from,” Nate said “You got a ring for Miss Victoria?”
“I sure do,” Doc said “And I’m hankerin’ to put it on her finger too.”
“All right,” Nate said “I am going to give the signal and they will be here right away. Then you and me go up to the front of the church with Zachariah.”
What had happened to the quiet private wedding Doc had imagined , where he and Victoria would say their vows to each other and then retire to her cottage?
A moment later Nate was gone and out in the church yard swinging a lantern. This was the signal he and the Contessa had agreed on, to show that Doc had arrived at the church. The Contessa would be watching for it.
“You nervous?,” Scrub Pot asked as the two men shook off the trail dust and then sat down for a moment.
“Well, I wasn’t,” Doc said “But now that words got it, the whole town is here. I guess I am. ” They could hear voices coming from the sanctuary and knew people were filing in. Doc was dressed in black, his gun on his hip, his silver star pinned to his leather vest. Yes, he cut quite a figure to say the least and he was ready to get this over with and start a new life with Victoria. Scrub Pot removed his hat, and marked his the place in his bible with a scrap of cloth that Alice had once used to tie her hair back with. “I married my wife in a church like this,” he said reflectively “I barely spoke English at all, and all the ways of her people were strange to me, but I knew that I loved her more than my life and that I was on the right path. I would have done anything for my Alice, and did. If this is the way you feel about Victoria, this union is meant to be.”
“That is exactly how I feel about her,” Doc replied.
Before he could say another word, the door opened and Nathan walked in, a broad smile on his face. “You ready, Doc?,” he asked. “The ladies have just arrived, and I have to say, Victoria is one fine looking woman!”
“That I know, Travis,” Doc replied “So let’s not keep her waiting.” Doc unbuckled his gun belt and set belt, holster and gun down on the table. “Don’t need to be wearing this right now,” he said to himself. The two men followed Scrub Pot out into the sanctuary. There was a sudden silence that fell over the people in the church when they beheld a native American man, in his red shirt, vest, jeans and boots, with his long salt and pepper black hair falling down his back in a thick braid. He walked up to the alter, stepped up and turned around to face them. When they saw the bible in his hands, the knew that no matter what he looked like, he was the preacher Doc Stevens had promised to find. He smiled at the people staring at him. “Good evening,” he said, “My name is Zachariah Dodge and I will be officiating for the Reverend Wilks this evening..”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

La Contessa’s driver drew the elegant coach to a halt in front of the church, his team of white horses seeming to gleam in their black harnesses. The foot man opened the door and handed out La Contessa Francessca Della Bellezza, dressed in an elegant blue gown and matching hat. Next came Frances Bradford her dark hair styled beautifully with a small spray of white roses for effect. Her gown was a beautiful shade of lavender. Both ladies stood to the side as Victoria stepped from the coach. She was breathtaking in that beautiful pink watered silk gown, her blonde hair done up in the latest French style and fastened with a spray of white roses like her friend’s. She did not seem nervous at all as the three ladies walked to the open church door. On seeing them there, Mrs. Wilks began to play the wedding march while Doc and Nate stood off to the right of the altar and drank in the sight they were seeing. The Contessa walked down the isle first and then took a seat next to J. W. Titus and husband Jake. Then came Frances Bradford. She looked beautiful and Nathan could not believe how the sight of her made him feel. He almost wished it was him getting married instead of Doc. Fran smiled at him as she took her place across from the two men.
Victoria seemed to float down the isle, like a vision out of a dream. So beautiful and radiant, a light blush on her cheeks. There she was, his Victoria and he could not have been happier. “Thank you, Lord,” Doc said as he watched her coming toward him. “She is the one.” All the loneliness and grief that had haunted him and a violent past that made him the man he was melted away as he reached out and took her hand. The smile on her face and the joy in her dark eyes moved him to tears. He saw the future, and knew this was right as he took his place beside her. “Dearly beloved,” Scrub Pot began, “We are gathered here in the sight of God to join together in holy matrimony, Elliot “Doc” Stevens and Victoria Langford.”
The church was respectfully quite as Doc and Victoria made their vows to each other. The towns people had been surprised by the arrival of a Native American preacher to officiate, but it did not matter. Scrub Pot was eloquent and expressive as he charged the couple before him to love, honor and cherish until death do them part. “Then I ask you, Elliot Stevens,” he said “ Will you have Victoria Langford to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I will,” Doc replied as he smiled at his bride. Tears stood in Victoria’s eyes as she accepted the vow of the man who would be her husband. Scrub Pot turned to Nathan Travis. “The ring,” he said “And we are done here.” Nate grinned broadly as he handed him the plain gold band that Doc has entrusted him with. He watched as Scrub Pot placed it on the pages of the open bible he held. Words melded into music , as in a dream as the couple gazed at each other. Suddenly Sarah Steven’s wedding ring was in Doc’s hand and he sniffed back a tear as he slid it onto Victoria’s finger. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he repeated after Scrub Pot. Then the moment for which everyone had been waiting came. “Doc and Victoria,” Scrub Pot said , with wistful smile “I now pronounce that you are man and wife. Doc, you may now kiss your bride.” And he did. The congregation could not contain themselves any longer and a rousing cry of joy and congratulations rose to the rafters of the small church. Tears were on Fran’s cheek as she handed Victoria her wedding bouquet. Nate smiled warmly as he shook Doc’s hand. “Congratulations, my friend,” he said. Doc grinned, “Thanks, Nate.” The couple walked down the isle and out of the church to where La Contessa waited to wish them well as they joined her in her carriage. Then , in grand style, they were driven to Victoria’s cottage.
Nathan walked down the church steps with Fran on his arm. “Not bad for short notice,” he commented “I think they will do all right. “
”I think so too,” Fran replied “Let’s go back to the ranch. I am wore out.”
Nathan sniffed the air. “Good idea,’ he said “Think I smell a pole cat somewhere.” He helped Fran up into her buggy and once in the seat beside her took the reins of the team and drove away. Scrub Pot closed his bible and heading for the front door. His work was done. “That was a fine service,” a voice said behind him. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” The old man turned around and there stood Jake Titus.
“Doc is a persistent man, Mr. Titus,” Scrub Pot replied as the two men stepped outside into the church yard, “But I would have come through hell fire to perform this wedding tonight.”
“You are a good friend.,” Jake commented.
“More than that,” Scrub Pot said as he swung up onto Wakeeze’s back. “We are blood brothers.”
“I have heard of that custom,” Jake replied as the old man turned his horse toward the lane.
“He may be my brother,” Scrub Pot said “but he still owes me a dollar for my parson’s fee.”
Jake laughed. “He’s good for it now that he’s the sherrif around here. Guess you will be heading back to move that herd out.”
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied “ Maybe we will stop here on our way back from Abilene when the job is done.”
“I hope so,” Jake replied “Safe journey, my friend.” At that he turned and looked back through the open doors of the church and called to his wife and daughter.

Now there was a whole lot going on inside the church and that unwelcome guest who had moved in under the floor boards was getting more than a little nervous.
As he headed for the door to leave , a dozen other folks behind him, Old Pede stopped and sniffed the air. “That critter is mighty close,” he commented to Hap Johansen Jr. “May be I ought to go get my gear and start lookin fer it.”
It was already too late. With the sounds of all the people leaving the church and all the noise on the floor above him was all that poor critter could stand and the acrid spray went everywhere, wafting upward through the cracks in the wood floor. “POLE CAT!” some one shouted and the mad dash to get out of the church and away was on.
“Great day in the mornin’ Pede,” Hap Jr cried as the two men ran, covering their faces with their hands against the stench. “I thought you said that skunk was close by, not in the church!”
“Was,” Pede said “Probably right under us from the smell of things.”


As he was riding away, Scrub Pot heard to commotion and saw the good people of Portersville running everywhere as he caught the unpleasant scent that now floated on the air. The old man grinned. “Thank you Father,” he said to himself as he approached Victoria’s cottage. The Great Spirit had spared him once again. As he rode up to the porch of the modest house, Doc stepped outside to have a smoke.
“Howdy, Zachariah,” he said as he lit his cigar with a wooden kitchen match. “What’s all the commotion about over at the church?”
“An unwelcome guest at your wedding,” Scrub Pot replied as he sat there on his paint looking at the neat little house surrounded by many flowering plants. Doc looked up at him. “Unwelcome guest?,” he questioned as he drew on his cigar “What are you talking about?”
“The breeze will tell you,” Scrub Pot answered,”and you owe me a dollar.”
Doc sniffed the air. “That is pole cat,” he stated in disgust “We must have got away just in the nick of time.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. “Parson’s fee,” he said with a wry grin on his face “But the pole cat’s free.” The old man shook his head and smiled as he caught the coin Doc flipped to him. “Go to your wife,” Scrub Pot said “She is the one that has to put up with you now.”
“She is a better cook than you, Zachariah,” Doc replied “I’ll see you after Abiline. We have some unfinished business to tend to back in Texas.”
“That we do, my friend,” Scrub Pot replied as he turned his horse to the road “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Doc said as he watched the old man ride away. The door behind him opened and Victoria walked out onto the porch. “Who was that?” she asked “I thought I heard someone ride in.” Doc turned to his wife and took her in his arms. “It was Scrub Pot,” he said. She gazed up at him and smiled. “Did he say what happened over at the church?”, she asked.
Without warning, Doc lifted her off her feet and into his arms. Victoria gasped in surprised. “Why Doc Stevens!,” she said “What are you doing?”
“I am going to carry my bride across the threshold, again,” he said wryly “Now that we are alone.” They kissed and then broke away. Victoria sniffed the air “That is an awful smell,” she stated as Doc carried her to the open door of the cottage.
“You are smelling the reason for the commotion back at the church,” Doc said as he carried her over the threshold for the second time that night.
She put her arms around his neck, “Well,” she said “No pole cat is going to bother us. At that she kicked the door closed behind them.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


“You see ‘im, Pede?,” Jake Titus asked anxiously as he held the lantern.
“No Sir, ” the old man replied from somewhere under the First Methodist Church of Portersville, “jest smell him. I’m thinkin’ that pole cat is long gone.”
“Well, you are probably right, ” Jake replied “Come on out of there. It’s time to go home.” Old Pede inched his way out of the dark crawl space and rose to his feet, dusting off his filthy overalls.
“Don’t ye know, Mr. Jake, that ye ain’t supposed to shoot a pole cat?” he said “It’s best just to let them go their way.” Titus thought about it and put his Navy Colt back in his holster. “Guess you are right, ” he said “This gun would blow that critter to pieces and make a bad situation even worse. Let’s have a look tomorrow and maybe you can trap it , like you did the one that got into my barn.”
“Sure enough., ” Pede replied with a toothless grin on his face. “Sure was a fine weddin’.”
“It sure was, “ Jake agreed “a surprise , but a fine wedding none the less. Now our new sherrif has a reason to stay around.”
“I heard tell that you and the judge got Doc Stevens swore in just before he married Miss Victoria.” Pede said as they walked to the front of the church yard where Jake’s mule waited.
“Sure did, Pede,” Jake replied with a sly grin, “Now I can get back to lawyerin’ and looking after J. W.’s next book.”
“Miss Victoria looked like one of them fairy tale princesses,” Pede said “My oh my, I never saw such pretty women as the ones with her either.”
Jake walked over to Molly and placing his foot in the stirrup, stepped up into his saddle . . “They sure looked nice,” Jake agreed as he unwound his rein from the saddle horn. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pede. I am headed home.”
“Say Mister Jake?”
“Yeah.”
“I done told the sherrif that there’s centipedes down at the jail. If’n you git me some whiskey and some coal oil, I’ll git rid of them fer ye.”
“Tomorrow, Pede,” Jake said as he turned Molly toward the lane to ride East. “Let’s get rid of that skunk first. You take up the centipedes with Sherrif Stevens first thing in the morning.”
“Night, Jake,” Pede said as he watched him ride away on his red mule.
“Sure do admire that mule,” Pede said to himself “but that critter is as mean as a rattle snake.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

As you might have guessed, Scrub Pot returned to camp, Angus and his bride rode off together into the sunset with plans to go home to Scotland. Ned Travis had been apprehended and was locked up in the Portersville jail, awaiting extradition back to Texas. His twin brother Nathan sat in his hotel room thinking about the future and Frances Bradford. Doc had married Victoria and was now officially the sherrif of Portersville. Sam was getting ready to move the herd on toward Kansas and the end of the trail. I was ready to go, there had been a whole lot of excitement these past few days, but for Doc Stevens, it wasn’t over yet.
Morning dawned, clear sunny. Doc turned over and hugged his pillow. Was he dreaming? He was lying in a luxurious feather bed and smelling bacon frying and biscuits baking. “Don’t want to wake up,” he muttered and tried to fall back to sleep. That was when the pounding on the front door of the house brought him immediately to his feet and grabbing his gun. “Victoria,” he shouted to his wife “Don’t open that door!”
“Sherrif!,” Old Pede shouted as he continued to beat on the door with all his might, “Open up! You gotta come quick!”
On hearing her husband shouting and all the commotion outside, Victoria dropped her biscuit pan and it clattered to the floor adding to the din and spilling hot biscuits everywhere. “It’s Pede!” , she shouted back to Doc over the rain of vigorous knocks on her front door. “Welcome to real life,” she said to herself as she stooped to salvage her biscuits. Doc pulled his pants on and shoved his feet into his boots and went to the door, his Colt in his hand. “What is it Pede?”, he demanded “and it better be good.”
“Sorry to disturb you, Sherrif,” the old man apologized “I know it is the mornin’ after yer wedding and all, but we got bad trouble down at the jail.”
Immediately, Doc thought about Ned. “Tell me Travis is still locked up,” he ground out.
Pede fiddled with his battered old hat. “He’s locked up all right,” he said “But that pole cat, what all but ruined the weddin’ last night done got under the jail and....” Doc’s frown turned into a grin and then he burst out laughing. His bride in her house dress appeared at the door behind him.
“Good morning, Pede,” she said to the old man “Doc? What is so funny?”
Doc was still laughing as he put his arm around his wife. “Seems old Ned has got himself some company down at the jail.”, he hee hawed.
“Pole cat, Miss Victoria,” Pede added “But I can get rid of that critter.”
“Sounds to me like it is already too late,” Victoria replied “Let’s all have breakfast before you do that. Come on in, Pede,” she added.
“Much obliged, Miss Victoria, Sherrif. ” the old man said “But that prisoner is carryin’ on somethin’ awful and I better get after that critter before it sprays again.”
Doc kissed his wife, “Sorry Vic,” he said “I have to go with Pede. Can we have breakfast when I get back?”
“I can keep the biscuits warm,” she said. This was a minor invasion of their privacy, and for that Victoria was grateful. Now that she was the wife of the new sherrif, she knew things could be far worse than a pole cat holed up under the jail.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Kane Wolf opened his shop early that morning and as was true in the past, there were customers waiting for him. Suzy Titus was there holding her father’s thoroughbred, Wind Walker and with her was Miss Chelsea Adams, the seventeen year old daughter of Randall and Elizabeth Adams, the town barber and dentist.
“He is married,” Suzy hissed, “Mama heard it from Mrs. Bradford. Married and some children too.”
“He doesn’t wear a ring,” Chelsea insisted “and he is so handsome. I’d marry him in a minute.”
“You said that about Hap too,” Suzy stated “and he is MY beau! Besides that Pa says that farrier’s don’t wear rings because they get in their way of their work with the horses.”
“I went to choir practice with Hap before you did,” Chelsea said defensively.
“And I kissed him in the cemetery,” Suzy stated victoriously “and I am going to marry him. You know, Chelsea, Kane is going to know that you pulled Ginger’s shoe off.”
Chelsea looked at her gelding’s left front foot. “I did no such thing, Suzy,” she retorted, “ he lost it coming through the creek on the way to your house.”
“Face it,” Suzy said “Kane is a married man. Every girl in town has been swooning over him since he opened his shop. Ma says he’s a man who loves his wife,”
“Why did you come then?”, Chelsea asked, “ if you didn’t want to get a look at him for yourself.”
“Because Wind Walker needs a trim,” Suzy replied “and after Daddy came home last night after the wedding, reeking of pole cat, Mama made him sleep in the barn, so until he gets that stink off him, he won’t be coming into town. So here I am with the Wind Walker.”
Kane added more wood to the fire under his forge and got out his tools. He grinned as he went to the door, how those two girls reminded him of his own daughters. He appreciated the business as he’d made more than enough money to bring his family to the Oklahoma territory. Kane appreciated the attention he’d received, but today when the stage came in, he hoped Jamie , his wife and their children would be on it. Her last letter had said “by the end of the month.” He grinned as he opened the door of his shop.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said politely.
“Mornin’, Kane,” Suzy Titus said “Daddy wants you to trim Wind Walker. He’s racing next Sunday.
Chelsea just stared at the handsome young blacksmith hardly able to utter a word. “Shoe,” she managed to get out “Ginger threw a shoe.” Kane smiled at her “I can fix that,” he said “and he will be good as new.”


++++++++++


Now Kane Wolf’s smithy was not far from the jail. He’d heard the commotion , but paid no attention. Most likely the wind wasn’t blowing in Kane’s direction yet. Doc pulled his bandana over his nose. “That is horrible,” he choked as he opened the door of his office.
“Doc!” Ned screamed as soon as he heard his voice, “Let me out of here! “
Doc ignored him as he and Pede went about opening windows to air the place out.
“How did that critter get under the building?”, he asked they stepped outside “Oooo weeee, does it ever stink in there! ”
“Went under the board walk most likely,” Pede said. Want me to have a look?”
“You mean to tell me that this stench don’t bother you?”. Doc inquired “It’s makin’ me half ill.”
“No,” Pede replied “Don’t bother me t’all.” Doc shook his head as he stood on to the board walk in front of the jail and watched Pede disappear underneath it. “Be careful,” Doc cautioned. From inside the jail, Ned was shouting for Doc to let him out and cursing like mad. “You can just quit that , Ned,” Doc shouted back, “I don’t hold with cussing!”
“I don’t care what you hold with, Stevens,” Ned roared “This is inhumane treatment of a prisoner. Get me out of here!”
“I see him Sherrif,” Doc heard Pede say from somewhere under the boardwalk “and he’s headin’ you way.”
“Ah hell,” Doc stated . He’d had enough, and as that black and white critter ran out from under the steps, tail up and ready to fire, Doc drew his gun and shot it dead in the street. Pede scrambled out . “You got him sherrif!”, he declared.
“Get rid of it,” Doc replied as he choked on the cloud of noxious fumes “I am going home.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Pede promised.
“You can’t leave me here like this!,” Ned shouted
“Your windows are open, Travis,” Doc yelled back, “Spend a little time with one of your own kind.” At that he walked away and headed back up the street toward Victoria’s cottage.
Now, it was good advice that Pede gave Jake Titus about shooting a skunk, but when the jail had already been sprayed I guess, Doc just felt that things couldn’t be any worse if he shot the critter, so he did. Ned stayed in the jail, and Miss Victoria made Doc strip outside the house bury his clothes out behind the barn and then take a bath in vinegar. Then finally they did sit down to their first meal together as husband and wife.


THE TEXAS PLANES, Late Summer 1875


It seems that I have neglected to mention Little Fox, the son of one of Scrub Pot’s friends and now less his prize mare, Dessert Rose. Of course at the time, I had no idea that Little Fox had plans for Sam Dodge too, but not a soul had mentioned that to me as the herd moved on, ever northward toward a distant rail head at Abilene. Now out on the great planes of Texas, Little Fox had been chasing mustangs for weeks. A few of his friends had come along to help him, but they had stayed long enough to catch only ten of the thirty nine horses the young brave needed to make Sam his wife. Now he sat by his campfire, ten mustangs in the corral he had built out of logs and stones. He was disillusioned and very angry with Turtle Back, his best friend for leaving him to his task alone. He was beginning to think that Scrub Pot’s bride price for Sam was far too high and worse yet, the old man had Desert Rose. He thought of his older brother Kane, who had left the settlement at Bear Claw for the Oklahoma territory and at last report was doing well in a border town called Portersville. Kane didn’t have to collect forty horses for his wife, Jamie, they’d been married in a church back East several years ago and now had three children.
“Kane is perfect,” the young man groused “Everything always is right for him. He has a beautiful wife , a son and two daughters. He will be chief one day and I will be here chasing horses for Scrub Pot, while Sam marries someone else.” Yes, Little Fox was feeling very sorry for himself and the last thing he ever expected in his misery was company.
The mustangs suddenly became restless and began pushing at the lashed gate of their makeshift corral. Little Fox quietly reached for the rifle his father had given him when he left home on his quest. He listened, hearing the sound of a horse approaching slowly and very close by. He cocked the rile. “Come into the light ,” he said sternly.
“You wouldn’t shoot me, Little Fox,” a female voice said “I have come to help you.”
“Lillie?”, he questioned “What the....” A beautiful young woman slid of the back of her brown and white paint. “My brother said you were catching horses here.”, she said.
He lowered his gun and then set it aside. “Your brother left here three days ago,” said Little Fox, his disgust showing in his tone. “Some friend.” His dark eyes followed her as she lithely crossed his camp, leading her horse toward the corral. She came back to where he stood by the fire. She was exquisite in the flickering light . Her long ebony hair was shiny and brushing her slender waist , her face was like that of an angel. She was far from the skinny little girl who used to follow Turtle Back and himself around as they were growing up. Little Fox stared at her, taking in the every detail of this beautiful girl who had just ridden into his camp and seemed intent on staying.
“Well,”, Lillie prompted to break the uncomfortable silence between them. “I am here to help and stop staring at me.”
“I am surprised,” Little Fox said “You were the last person I expected to see out here.”
“May be I got tired of painting pots and images of horses for your father,” she said. “I heard you want to marry Scrub Pot’s grand daughter.”
“Her name is Samantha,” the young man spit “ and yes, I intend to marry her.”
Lillie laughed and gave her long raven locks a toss. “I also heard that Scrub Pot said you need forty horses to marry her when she gets back from that cattle drive.”
“That is why I am here, chasing mustangs and your lazy brother is back at the village. “ Little Fox growled. Lillie laughed, “I also heard you lost Desert Rose.”
Little Fox grimaced in annoyance that she would bring up the matter, which now seemed to be common knowledge among his tribe. Lillie sat down next to the fire, crossed her long legs and looked up at him.
“You grew up since the last time I saw you,” Little Fox commented.
“So did you,” Lillie replied “What are you cooking?”
“Rabbit,” he replied.
Lillie Greyhorse was an artist, but she also could catch horses. Little Fox had seen her do it with her brothers and he smiled. “She’s as good as Sam,” he said in his thoughts. He welcomed the idea of company, the help, but her youthful beauty promised to be a distraction. He forced himself to call up the memory of Sam’s face.
“Do you love her?” Lillie asked as he offered her some of the meat he’d cooked.
“Who?”, Little Fox asked.
“Sam Dodge.” Lillie replied as she chewed on the charred rabbit leg. “Your wife to be.”
“She is beautiful and strong,” he said as he watched her.
“She’s a wrangler and half white,” Lillie commented.
“So,” Little Fox defended. “I need a wife and a son and I know Sam very well.”
“You knew her before she went back East,” Lillie stated “When she came back she was different and you still have not answered my question.”
Little Fox wiped his finger on his deer skin pants. “What did you want to know,” he said in annoyance, “You are still such a nosey girl.”
“Do you love Sam?”. Lillie asked , ignoring his remark. He could not get away from the expression of her bright smiling eyes. “Well,” he replied “Ah, yes. I guess I do.”
“You guess,?”, Lillie questioned. “You are out here alone, catching forty horses to marry a woman you guess you love?”
“Well, “ he defended “I never thought about that. My father told me it was time for me to get married. So I thought I would ask for Sam.”
“And what did she say?”, Lillie asked as she wiped her hands clean and began to gather her long hair to braid it for the night.
“She said she would think about it,” Little Fox answered.
Lillie giggled “That answer was is not worth forty horses,” she said.
“Sam is worth it,” Little Fox argued. “I already have some of the horses in the corral and Scrub Pot has Desert Rose. “
”My father only wants twelve horses for me,” Lillie said provocatively. Little Fox glared at her, knowing she was right and he was becoming drawn to her. “You?”, he questioned “You are too young and too skinny.”
“Take another look, Little Fox,” she said as she rose and went to retrieve a colorful woven blanket from where she had left her tack. “I am seventeen. Your father likes me and my paintings are becoming known and..” Little Fox watched her as she spread the blanket out on the ground. “You can’t sleep here,” he said worriedly.
“And why not?” Lillie defended as she folded herself inside it.
“You are not my wife.”, Little Fox stammered. “You can’t.....”
“I promise not to bother you, Little Fox,” she said “You stay on your side of the campfire and I will stay here. You will be safe with me.”
Grumbling the boy spread his own blanket out. “Skinny, little girl.”
“Good night,” Lillie called “We have lots of horses to catch tomorrow or you will be a bachelor for the rest of your life.”
“Go to sleep, “ Little Fox commanded as he pulled his blanket up. “It is late and you will go home in the morning.”
“And who will help you win Sam with your bride price of forty horses?”
It occurred to Little Fox as he lay there staring up at the stars that Lillie Greyhorse was right and suddenly twelve horses seemed far better than catching twenty eight more.


+++++++++++++++


It was quiet in town when Sam Dodge rode in on Doc’s black. Smoky Joe had rested overnight and Sam was anxious to get on her way and with her own horse. As she started down the main street, the acrid smell in the air told her that somewhere, someone had crossed paths with a pole cat and it hadn’t been that long ago. Now she didn’t want me to ride with her. I guess she wanted to say good by to her uncle alone. Sam was kind of private about those things. Heck, it wasn’t that long ago that I learned she and Doc were kin.
It did not take her long to find Victoria’s house. She could still smell that pole cat, but it was no where near as strong as it had been in town. From the small barn behind the house, Sam heard Trouble’s familiar nicker. She tied the black to the railing on the back porch and silently headed for the barn. In the paddock a beautiful paint mare grazed and inside the barn was Trouble. He seemed happy to see her, but then Sam and that stud seemed to understand each other real well anyway. She saw that her uncle had taken great care to put her tack away as she lifted her saddle and blanket from edge of the stall and began to tack the stud. She figured she would bring Smokey Joe in afterward and leave him in the barn along with Doc’s rig. She had always admired her uncle’s silver trim and shiny black leather, but if Sam had her way, she would not use a saddle at all, she’d ride Trouble bare back like she had learned to do when she was a child. She adjusted the saddle and pulled the girth up. “I’m going to miss you Doc,” she said to herself “can’t say that I’m not a little jealous. Since Ma and Pa died, you and Grandfather have been the only family I have had. Now I have to share you.” She paused to pet Trouble’s quivering black nose. The stud snorted, his eye was on the paint mare. “You just get that notion out of your head,” Sam told him, “You have a mare back at camp and you and her are going to make me some fine colts once we get back to Texas.”
“None finer,” Doc agreed as he opened the paddock gate and walked in leading Smokey Joe behind him.
“I was trying to be quite,” Sam said “Sorry I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t,” Doc replied. “Victoria is fixing a late breakfast.”
Sam wrinkled her nose. Doc grinned “I know,” he drawled “Had to draw out on a pole cat this morning,” he said.
Sam burst out laughing. “You never shoot a pole cat,” she declared.
“I had to shoot this one,” Doc defended “He was under my jail and last night, it all most ruined my wedding.” Sam was still laughing “So your first official act as sherrif was to shoot a pole cat.”
“Fraid so,” Doc drawled.
“Sorry I missed the wedding,” Sam said as she buckled Trouble’s dark leather bridle and picked up her reins. “I hope it all went well and that Trouble was good on the ride back.”
“He was, honey girl,” Doc replied “ Your Grandpa was a little miffed ‘cause Trouble passed Wakeeze twice on the way. And as for me and Victoria, I don’t want you to worry. We are like your Ma and Pa were. Meant to be.”
“That’s good.,” Sam answered as she led the stud out of the barn and to the gate. He nickered a few times at the mare and scowled at Smokey Joe, putting his red ears back. “We are on our way to Kansas,” she added as she mounted up. “I am anxious to get this job over with and head home. I want to be moved in and settled on the ranch by fall. “
Doc was serious when he looked up at his niece. “Sam,” he said “You know it ain’t over with Hinkley. He is going to be trouble, especially once he figures out that we caught Ned. I am going back to Grants Creek with you when the time comes.”
Thoughtfully, she gazed back at her uncle. “I can handle Hinkley,” she said confidently.
“I know that,” Doc replied “Mark my word, Sam, that man is dangerous. He has already tried to kill you and Scrub Pot. Thank God it was only Nathan’s idiot twin brother he sent. We might not be so lucky next time.”
“I see your point, Doc,” she said “We will talk about it when I come through here on the way back to Texas.”
“What about Bently?”, Doc inquired.
“He’s turning out to be a right fine ram rod,” Sam replied proudly, “And he can ride too.”
“That isn’t what I meant.” Doc stated.
“Like I said, Doc,” Sam stated “He’s a good partner.”
Doc shook his head. “You are as stubborn as that old Indian,” he said.
Sam turned Trouble around. “Not everybody ends up like you and Victoria, “ she said as she reached up and pulled her hat down to shade her eyes.
“You be careful, Sam,” Doc interjected, “There’s a lot of miles between here and Abilene. A lot can happen.”
“I will see you in a few weeks” Sam replied , and at that she rode off at a canter. Doc watched after her as he rubbed the sleek black neck of his horse. “Well, Joe,” he said “Welcome to your new home.” He led the black into the paddock to meet the paint mare. Joe laid his ears back and stomped his front foot. The dainty mare squealed and stood her ground. “Just like I thought,” Doc said as he put Joe in the stall Trouble had vacated, “That little gal is going to keep you on you toes.” Closing the stall door behind him, Doc headed back toward the house. He paused and looked down the lane, seeing the dust hanging in the air, but Sam was gone. “God, keep your hand on her,” he said to himself, “And the old coot too.” Doc knew Sam would be safe as long as Scrub Pot was around and he smiled at the thought of Jerrod Bently. Yes, she would be safe, Bently was in love with her and would protect her at any cost. But Sam didn’t seem to notice. At least not yet. “Just like her Daddy was,” Doc thought as he reached for the door. “Stubborn as Titus’s mule.”
Victoria called out to him from the kitchen. “Doc. Is there someone here? I thought I heard a rider.”
“My niece, Honey,” he answered as he walked in through the back door. “Come to pick up her horse.” Victoria appeared, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Did she leave already?” she asked. “I just put some more biscuits in the oven.”
“She brought Smokey Joe back,. They are moving that herd today” Doc replied “She’s got a job to do. You’ll see her again.”
“I hope so,” Victoria replied “I am sorry she missed the wedding.”
“She gave me her horse to ride back to you on,” he said as he crossed the room to her and took her in his arms. “Think she was glad to know we got married.. ” Doc was quite for a moment as he admiringly looked at his bride. “Victoria,” he said “That ring I put on your hand was her mama’s wedding ring. Sam said it was a wedding gift.”
Victoria looked down at the shining gold band. “Tell me about her, Doc.” she said “Who was she?”
“My sister, Sarah Ann,” Doc replied “I was the youngest of three. There were two girls Lillian and Sarah. Sarah was the middle child.” They sat down at the kitchen table and Victoria poured fresh coffee. Intrigued, she waited for her husband to continue. Doc sat quietly, thinking for a moment. It had never been easy for him to talk about the past and the loss of his best friend and his sister.
“Sarah was a good girl. ” he said “She had kind of honey blonde hair, and green eyes. Right pretty I must say and Momma set a great store by her. She liked to sing and play the piano. I had just joined the rangers when I met Joe Dodge. He was a half breed. We were trailing some horse thieves up in the pan handle of Texas. We threw in together as he was a tracker like no one I had ever seen before. To make a long story short, we got the horses back and took care of the thieves. Joe rode back to Waco with me, planning to sell his horses there. He met Sarah and they run off together. They knew Ma and Pa would never accept her marrying a half breed Blackfoot. “
”Did they ever come around, Doc?”, Victoria asked.
“After a while,” Doc said “You see, Honey.. The man who married us at the church last night was Joe Dodge’s daddy. And the fact that Zachariah Dodge was an ordained minister just like my own father was helped a lot with reconciling the family. I sided with Joe and Sarah and sometimes stayed with them at Bear Claw. When Sarah and Joe had their first child, everyone reconciled and we became a family again. They named the boy Brian after my father. A year later, Sarah had another baby and that was Sam.. Samantha Ann Dodge and she was the prettiest child I’d ever seen.”
“I thought she was beautiful when I met her at the shop,” Victoria commented. “I would love to know her better.”
“She will be back here when they settle up at the end of the drive,” Doc said as he sipped his coffee. “The boy, Brian is back East with my oldest sister, Lillian. He is a doctor, I think. I never got to know him very well. He’s a little older than Sam. “
”What happened to Sarah and Joe?”, Victoria asked. A dark, sad shadow fell over her husband’s face. “They died,” Doc said quietly. “Both of them gone by the time Sam turned two.” Victoria reached out and took his hands in hers. “Sam has been lucky to have you.”, she said comfortingly.
“I have done all I know how to do, Vic,” he said “Scrub Pot raised her, and her brother grew up in Philadelphia.” Sensing that her husband did not want to talk about the past anymore, Victoria rose from her chair and went to the kitchen to take her biscuits out of the oven.


++++++++++++++


We were ready to pull out. The herd had been grazing for a while on the open range near Portersville and the cattle looked less scrawny as I watched them from Mud’s back. I learned a lot since we left Grants Creek. I could ride about as good as any cowboy and I could throw a rope too. Like some of the other drovers on the crew and I was no longer considered a green horn and gone on to becoming ram rode of our out fit. I was successful, except for one thing. I had to admit to myself that I had feelings for Sam Dodge. I was even a little jealous when I thought of Doc and his new bride. He’d found someone to spend his life with , a new career and it was as though he had just walked into it all. Victoria was beautiful, she had built a successful business and was a real lady. She and Doc would make a great team, but I wanted Sam with her long dark hair, brown eyes and her ability to be fiesty most of the time. I had serious doubts that she wanted me. However, I was encouraged when I’d seen Scrub Pot’s warning scowl at any other man who he thought might be thinking of Sam as more than the trail boss. He did not seem to scowl at me. Maybe the old man knew something I didn’t.
We had been on the trail for so many weeks I couldn’t count them, eating dust, putting up with outlaws, Indians and Scrub Pot’s cooking. The boys didn’t complain much, and out of respect for Sam, they kept their distance from her . She was trail boss and I was crazy to have fallen so hard for her, but I had. Sam Dodge was everything I had ever dreamed of in a woman, and most likely after Abilene, I would probably never see her again. That was the sadness I felt as I finished tacking Mud and climbed into the saddle for another day of cows, heat, and dust and endless prairie.
“No sleep, Jerrod Bently?” I turned in my saddle to see Scrub Pot standing right where I had been only seconds before. How did he do that? Move so silently and quickly and how did he know I had not slept a wink. He handed up a blue speckled enamel cup of hot coffee. “Thanks,” I said as I took a sip. Yeah, it had it’s usual bitterness and bite to it, but I had come to like it. “Is Sam up yet?”
“She will be,” Scrub Pot replied “I sent Diamond to wake her. My grand daughter did not sleep well either,” he added. Suddenly I was concerned. “She isn’t sick is she?”
The old Indian grinned behind his own coffee mug. “No,” he said “She is fine, but I think she tossed and turned all night because you are in her thoughts.”
“Me?”, I questioned trying to not sound too hopeful.
“She fears the end of the drive, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot said, “But not for reasons you might expect.”
‘It won’t be easy for her starting out with that ranch when she gets back to Texas,” I said.
“She will be fine with the ranch,” Scrub Pot answered confidently.”It is the life she was born for.”
“Then why is she worried about the end of the trail and selling off the cattle?”
“Because she fears losing you.” Scrub Pot replied. I stared at his weathered dark face, knowing my mouth had just fallen open. “”Me?” I managed to get out. The old man turned away,”The men will be up and wanting breakfast,” he said as he walked off .
“Hey Scrub Pot!,” I called after him.”Wait a minute!” It was too late, and like a ghost, he disappeared, leaving me with only half of the answer I was hoping to get. As I sat on my horse and shortened up my long reins, it came to me. Sam Dodge was one tough cowgirl, but may be she was falling for me after all. I pushed my reins forward, a Mud glowered at me sideways. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s but,” I said to myself . Mud simply snorted as he stepped into that long stride trot of his. I was on my way out, and pondering what the old man had said. Then at the edge of a stand of trees, as the cattle began to move, I saw her riding out toward me. Sam hadn’t seen me yet, but that was fine with me. I just liked looking at her and watching how expertyly she handled that red demon she rode.
Trouble was happy to be with Sam. I had never seen anyone other than her or Doc on that stud. I wouldn’t have dared, because I’d seen the behemoth buck a few times and just one of his powerful dives or jumps could put a man over the moon or in his grave. I respected that horse, and left him to Sam. This morning, he was prancing and showing off as I watched her ride toward me across a open prarie, her hat pulled down, her long dark hair in the usual braid down her back. As odd as it may have seemed to anyone else, who might see her, I seemed to sense that she was exactly where she belonged, here in the morning sunlight , with a thousand or so long horns passing behind her and her mounted on the red devil she loved probably more than she loved me.
“Mornin, Jerrod,” she said “You are out early. I didn’t see you at breakfast.”
“Strays,” I said “I am going out with John and Ely to catch them.”
“I have things to do too,” she said. “So I will see you later?”
“Yes,” I replied “Sam?”
“What?”
“Be careful,” I said, trying not to sound like I was worried. But I was, and I could not shake it. I was not going to tell her that I had seen Tom Dalton, one of the new hires, lurking outside the chuck wagon, just after daybreak and that was the real reason I was up before her. Diamond had barked and growled, alerting Scrub Pot that something was wrong and when he confronted Dalton himself, I stood frozen in the shadows, my hand on my gun. I watched as the man cursed at him, then turned and ran for his horse. Sam had been sound asleep and had no idea of the danger a man like him presented. I knew and so did Scrub Pot.

+++++++++++++++++
.

It was dry and very hot. The dust was so thick we choked on it and at times could hardly see ten feet in front of our horses. The grit and dust were with us day and night and I , like the rest of the drovers found it necessary to cover my face with my bandanna. It was not very comfortable, but I could breath. The horses were sluggish but we kept the herd moving and Sam kept pushing. The idea of grazing on open range again as we got closer to the other side of the Oklahoma Territory did not seem to be in the plans.
I had already made up my mind that I was going to ride back to Grants Creek with her and Scrub Pot when the drive was over. I hoped that we’d stop in Portersville on the way back to visit Doc and his new wife. I also nursed a faint hope that Doc would go back to Texas with us. I knew trouble was brewing back there and that some how I would end up right smack dab in the middle of it. I hadn’t forgotten about the hired gunman, who thankfully, turned out to be a bungling idiot sent to kill Sam and her grandfather. I knew he’d been sent by Hinkley but then I was left out of the quiet talks that went on between Doc and Scrub Pot back in the Portersville. No matter what plan they may have been making, I was going to be part of it at any cost. Not for me so much, but for Sam. Maybe she wouldn’t love me, maybe she wouldn’t marry me, may be she would slap me silly if I kissed her again, but by the saints, she would remember me one way or another.
As we moved on across the territory, water was not as plentiful as it had been, so the herd became restless when we would start getting close to some. I had heard of stampedes and though I knew a great deal more about cattle , horses and being a cowboy, that I ever did before, I still feared what could happen under these conditions. I had quit reading my J.W. Titus novels and , I had not been anywhere where I could have purchased that latest one and besides, I did not have time for reading these days. I smiled when I thought of the afternoon I’d spent at the Double J Ranch with my favorite author, who turned out to be and authoress, and busy canning applesauce and telling me all about her newest story line. Jake Titus, her husband, seemed pretty confident that one day soon, he and J.W. would strike it rich and her dream of seeing New York City would come true. It seemed that was what she wanted to do more than anything else. Having grown up and lived most of my life there, I could not understand why.
We had been on the trail for nearly two months when two new men signed on for the rest of the drive. They were Tom Dalton and Jeb Vickers. They looked like a couple of Confederate rejects about ten years too late for the great war. I was not impressed , and I cautioned Sam about taking them on. But they were extra help after Tyler left and she felt that we needed them. They could rope and ride, but I did not like the way Tom Dalton looked at Sam or the way he watched her when she was not aware of it. I’d have to keep an eye on him. I hoped I would never have to really use my gun for anything other than hunting game, but that was unrealistic. I was no Doc Stevens, but I knew how to protect myself and had become reasonably fast on the draw.
The crew seemed to enjoyed the venison Ely Jax and I provided from time to time. I had missed the first deer I’d ever shot at and the result was a run away chuck wagon. Sometimes I wondered if that old Indian ever thought about that as he prepared the meat. I saw that familiar half smile on his face and I figured he was thinking about it. Watson, the boysenberry jam and Bird That Talks were now long gone and he was at peace. I missed Doc’s jokes and stories and the way he kept an eye on Sam. That was up to me now and my presence seemed to discourage Dalton and Vickers from bothering her.
Jeb Vickers had a chip on his shoulder. He did not get along with the men, and he was always trying to start trouble with Scrub Pot. I had seen him try to draw the old man into a fight more than once. As I knew he always would, the old man walked away, not hearing the jibes and ugly words Vickers had to say about Indians. I warned him more than once to mind his tongue, and he only listened because it was either follow my orders or get out. He backed down and slunk away. I did not like any thing about this man. He was trouble. I noticed Sam watching me, and the smile on her face as she turned away to cinch her saddle on told me that she approved of how I handled him. He was like any bully on the docks back in New York. Usually when faced down they ran scared, and I was sure that was how Vickers would react if I had to show him in a more forceful way that he had to follow orders.
Those sidewinders turned out to be two drovers who weren’t worth a hoot. They were lazy and sneaky. I did not trust either of them and I told Sam that she needed to fire them. She listened just about as well as I expected she would. The day the accident that nearly took her life happened, I was glad that I followed Dalton, for had I not taken that bend in the trail on my way out to help Floyd and Ely round up stragglers, I would have lost her forever.

+++++++++++++++++


Sam heard someone behind her as she stood dismounted near a brook, letting Trouble drink. She was on her way in from searching out the best way to cross a river that lay some distance ahead of us. Sam had that way about her, just like Scrub Pot, hearing somebody before they even came into sight. She did not recognize the horse’s rhythm and instinctively her hand sought the bone handle of her knife. She was about to get back on her horse when Tom Dalton rode up. He paused, looking around himself , hearing the rush of the water as it spilled over a ledge about twenty five feet away. “Mornin’, Miss Sam,” he said “Is Bently around?”
Sam swung into her saddle. “What do you want, Dalton?,” she demanded, sensing that something was not right. Dalton slid off his horse, let it go and then caught Trouble by his bridle. The stud immediately backed up and tried to rear. “Don’t be in such a hurry,” Dalton said smoothly “I just want to talk.”
“Make it fast,” Sam replied as she tried to calm her nervous horse “I have work to do. And you can let go of my horse. Now.”
Dalton moved closer to the stud. “He’s a right fine horse,” he said. Trouble rumbled a warning to stand back. “Ain’t too friendly is he.”, he added.. Then, he quickly drew back and punched the sorrel in the side of his neck and sent him rearing up high into the air. Sam went off, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Terrified, her horse ran off into the trees. “You snake!,” she hissed as she picked herself up from the ground, her hand on the knife. She stopped for a moment, waiting for Dalton to get close enough to strike if she had to. “I been watching you, boss lady,” he said, his eyes glinting with lust and over consumption of whisky. “I think you need a man.” She glared at him, frozen there, close to where the brook rushed over the edge of a thirty foot precipice. He rushed her, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her to the ground , just as I rode into the clearing. Sam was trying to pull her knife, but nothing was going to stop Dalton. All I saw was that low life trying force her to the ground. I don’t think Dalton realized I was there until he heard the unmistakable sound of a .45 being cocked behind him. It broke his attack long enough for Sam to get away, staggering to her feet. Dalton looked at me for a second , kind of dazed and then went after her again. I lost my mind when I saw her torn clothing and understood fully what Dalton intended to do. He paused, turning toward me and then drew his gun. I heard Sam shout, “Jerrod!!” I pulled the trigger . I saw the surprised look of shock on Dalton’s face as he flew backwards with the force of the bullet.
He was still holding his gun in his hand. I saw him crumple to the ground, clutching at his mid section. I looked over at Sam. She was in shock. Then it all seemed to go into slow motion as I jumped off my horse made a lunge toward her as she staggered backward , trying to stay on her feet. I heard the stones under her boots slip, felt her fingertips brush mine and heard her scream and she fell backward over the rocky ledge behind her. I did not have time to think, just pray as I went after her. her. Scrambling down the wet rocks, I called her name. Sam had landed on a shelf like outcropping of rock, covered with brush and it looked like that might have broken her fall. I looked up at the rim above us and began shouting for help over the sound of the rushing water. I tore off my denim jacket and put in over her. “Please Sam,” I begged “You can’t leave me like this. Sam!” I shouted “Samantha Dodge!” I saw her eyes flutter open and she looked up into my face. At least she was still alive. The suddenly there was Scrub Pot and Ely Jax on the rim of that water fall above us. “We heard gun shots.,” Scrub Pot shouted down to me. “What about Sam?”
“She’s alive,” I shouted back. ‘We got to get her out of here.” Scrub Pot stumbled and skidded down the incline , as Ely went back to camp for help. “He was an evil man, Jerrod,” the old man said said “I knew it when I looked into his eyes.” Then, he was at Sam’s side , speaking to her in the Blackfoot language. I saw her eyes open again, to look up at her Grandfather. She was dazed and not comprehending what had happened. “Jerrod?” It was her voice.
“I am here Sam,” I said, fighting tears. “We are going to get you out of here.”
“My horse.,” she whispered. “Find him.” A worried smile crossed Scrub Pot’s face as he carefully checked for broken bones fearing he would find many. “He is fine, Sam.”, he said “We will get him for you.” Her eyes closed again and she was gone. “If she is worried about that stud of her’s she is still in this world with us,” he said as he turned to me. “We have to be very careful moving her. As far as I can tell, her left arm is broken in two places, and I think her ankle is broken too, but before we move her, we have to stop the bleeding from that gash on her head.”
I knew that a head wound always bled profusely and often looked far worse than the injury really was. I prayed for that to be the case as I pressed the sleeve of my jacket against the bloody wound that ran back into her hairline. Nothing mattered but getting her to safety, not cattle, not men, not the law and not the fact that I had just killed the man who would have raped and murdered her if I had not come along when I had. It seemed like it took hours for help to arrive, when in truth it had only been about twenty minutes. I stood by watching as Scrub Pot stitched up the wound in her head. I winced every time he moved the needle, but the bleeding had finally stopped. “She can not feel it,” he said as though he was reading my mind. I wanted to believe him. It took four men, myself and Scrub Pot to get Sam safely up the sharp incline and back to camp. We were in the middle of nowhere, with no hope of finding a doctor . Floyd Jax stood close to the back of the chuck wagon. He held his hat in his hands. “I knowed that Dalton was bad. I’m glad you killed him Jerrod,” he said, his eyes filling with tears.”She ain’t dying is she?”
Scrub Pot appeared at the back of the wagon. “She is alive,” he said “ but I need all of you to pray for her. She is hurt pretty bad..”
There was not a man who waited that did not go to his knees or bow his head.
The old man stepped out of the wagon and drew me aside. “There a decisions to be made Jerrod. Bently,” he said firmly “We will remain here , let the cattle graze. It is not worth my grand daughter’s life to push on like we have been. You will be in charge now.”
“But...”, I started to say “I don’t..”
“Faith, Jerrod Bently,” he said “You will be fine. First off, send some one back to Portersville. We need Doc here as quick as he can come.
“I better find Vickers, and tell him what happened,” I said quietly. “Better he hears it from me.”
I felt the old man’s hand on my shoulder, “I will find him myself,” he said. “You stay with Sam.”
Before I could protest, Scrub Pot was gone. I heard him ride away a few minutes later. I climbed back into the wagon and sat down next to Sam’s bunk. She was hurt very badly, and had been unconscious since we got her back to camp. I reached down and took her hand. “You probably can’t hear me,” I said feeling like I was going to fall apart right there, “But I want you to know, that I am here with you and am gonna be for the rest of my life if I have to, Sam. You’ve got to find your way back, honey. Not just for me, but for all of us, especially Doc and Scrub Pot.” It was very faint, but I felt pressure on my hand as I held hers. She had heard me. While I sat beside Sam and prayed, Scrub Pot and two of the man buried Tom Dalton near where I’d shot him and marked his grave with a simple cross made of sticks lashed together. He wouldn’t be growing any older.
It was almost dark when Scrub Pot returned to camp with Jeb Vickers. Vickers was in no mood for consolation when they rode in. He began shouting threats as he dismounted and swaggered toward the chuck wagon. “Hold on Jerrod,” a voice said from the front of the wagon. “Let him say his piece, and then talk to him.” I looked up and there was Ely Jax, his gun in his hand. “He tries to draw on you, I will kill him where he stands.” I had not even heard Ely climb up into the front of the wagon. I got up from the flour sacks I had been sitting on. “Get out here, Bently!”, Vickers shouted “You killed Tom and you are going to pay for it!”
“I’m coming out, Vickers,” I shouted back at him, then stepped out of the back of the wagon. “I am not armed.” Vicker’s right hand hovered over the handle of his gun.
I heard Scrub Pot’s 12 gage come to life behind Vickers. “The man is unarmed , son,” he said quietly “You will hear him out.” Something in the old man’s voice was calming yet terrifying at the same time.
I faced the enraged man. He stared at me his pale blue eyes on fire with revenge. His mouth twisted with grief and rage. “You killed my cousin,” he spit hatefully.
“Yes, I killed him. ” I said, trying to keep calm “I had no choice, he drew on me.”
“You’d be dead if that was true, Bently,” Vickers hissed “Tom was a crack shot with a pistol.”
“Maybe he was,” I said “Like I said, I had no choice, but to defend Sam and myself.”
“Did he hurt the boss lady?” Vickers asked, suddenly seeming to be worried that he might have.
“Jerrod shot that snake before he could do what he was planning,” Ely stated coldly as he appeared at the back of the wagon, his gun drawn. “She’s hurt real bad, Vickers because of what Dalton did and if she dies, I am coming after you.” There was something cold and deadly about Ely Jax, a side to him that I had never seen, but it certainly had a effect on Vickers. He turned and ran for his horse and jumped into the saddle. He whirled that big bay around , raising dust around him. He glared murderously at me. I stood my ground. “This ain’t over Bently.,” he shouted and then rode off like a man gone mad. I turned to Ely Jax and stared at him for a few seconds. “This is my fight, Ely,” I said firmly.
He holstered his gun and stepped out of the wagon. “Sam is the one lying in there hurt, Jerrod,” he said “ and until she gets back on her feet, this is my fight too.” I did not know what to say as I watched him walk away. Scrub Pot joined me, there by the wagon. His shot gun at his side. “You did well, ” he said “Vickers is a very dangerous man and he will come after you. Be ready, Jerrod Bently. One day, you will have to kill him.”
“I know,” I said as I turned to the back of the wagon again. “Right now I don’t want to think about that. “
The old man nodded , then he stowed his shot gun next to his bed roll on the ground and then climbed into the wagon to tend to his grand daughter. Her arm was broken in two places, between her shoulder and elbow. I knew about how broken bones were set, but I did not want to see it done. Scrub Pot was calm as he looked up at me with those coal black eyes of his, and said “You will have to hold her.” His words at first did not register as I stared at him. He closed his eyes and began speaking in his native language, quietly to himself. He was praying, I could tell by the peaceful and serene look that came over his weathered face. When he was done, he looked up at me. “I have to set her arm, Jerrod,”he said. “I will do it the way the Black Foot do.” Tears filled my eyes as I gathered her into my arms. “Will she feel it?”, I asked worriedly.
“No,” the old man replied as he prepared to set her broken arm. I wanted to believe him. He looked up at me as he grasped her left arm at the elbow. “Hold her tight Jerrod,” he instructed and don’t let her move.” I drew her close and held her tight and closed my eyes to pray. When I opened them he was tying two narrow flat boards splints around her damaged limb and I realized he had set the bones, and Sam had not stirred in my arms. It was the best we could do, and I hoped it had worked.


My nerves were on edge, but I kept focused on job I had to do. Later that evening, I sat down by the camp fire and wrote a detailed letter to Doc Stevens, telling him what had happened and that he was needed right away, then prepared to send a rider back to Portersville. I knew he would come, and I also knew he would not like doing his job either. I figured that Floyd Jax would be the best choice to get my message to Doc. Floyd was a down right skinny fellow, and would be light in the saddle. He might make it in about three days if he stayed on the old well worn trails. I prayed more than I ever remembered praying before that when Doc arrived it would not be to bury his niece.
Desert Rose was the fastest horse in the remuda. No one had ridden her except Sam. But the sorrel mare was the choice Scrub Pot made to get Floyd back to Portersville fast. That morning she was skittish and side stepping when Floyd saddled her. Trouble had to be restrained when he saw her being taken away and all but dragged Scrub Pot and me after her. Floyd mounted up and gave the mare her head. They were gone in seconds, leaving only dust hanging in the air. Scrub Pot put his hand gently on the white diamond between the stud’s eyes and in a few moments the big horse calmed down.
“How did you do that?”, I asked “He was going to shake us off and go after Floyd and the mare.” The old man grinned “I gave him something else to think about.”he said as he led Trouble away.
The tense wait for Doc Stevens began. Jeb Vickers made his threats had then disappeared . Such a man was not above shooting another in the back. I stayed with Sam and tried not to think about it. Those first few days were touch and go, but by the middle of the third, she opened her eyes and looked up at me.


PORTERSVILLE, OKLAHOMA TERRITORY


Doc Stevens was raking up leaves in front of the cottage that he now shared with his bride. He only had Ned Travis to deal with today, so he planned to go down to his office later. He was hoping to see Nate Travis to discuss the extradition of his brother back to Texas, but the ranger was no where to be found. Come to think of it, neither was the widow Bradford. Things had been quiet in town these past weeks. The usual drunks and rowdies were locked up on Friday and reclaimed by angry family members by Saturday afternoon, and young Hap Johansen III had come by asking if he needed any help at the jail. It seemed that there was a delay in Hap’s getting into the cavalry and this had Jake Titus a little worried where his daughter Suzy was concerned. Thinking of these things, Doc chuckled to himself as he looked up at the porch railing of the cottage and noted it could use a new coat of paint. Victoria was at the bake shop and expecting to see him in about an hour. He went inside, to wash up before he went to meet his wife. Pie was on the menu today and that was his favorite.
Hap III lounged lazily at the desk in the Sherif’s office, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet resting on desk top. He’d brought the mail from the post office after the rider and come through but left unopened on the desk. Hap was not concerned about wanted posters or anything else, he just wanted his shift to be over so he could sneak out to meet Suzy Titus, and get away from the not so subtle aroma of the room. It had been quite sometime since Doc shot that skunk, but sometimes it smelled like the critter was still there under the boardwalk. Especially when it rained.
It had been a quiet morning and despite the smell, Hap had played a good game of checkers with Ned Travis and listened to him complain about how badly he was being treated and that he was totally innocent of the charges that kept him behind bars. So this was what being a deputy was all about. Oh well, it sure had impressed Suzy Titus when he told her of the part time job he’d been hired for. “It’s just till they call me to Fort Dodge,” he’s told her “ it’s going to be dangerous. But I ain’t scared.”
He was thinking of how slick he was, courting Jake Titus’s daughter without his permission. If he made enough money once he got into the cavalry, he’d go to Jake and ask for Suzy. But he would have to make peace with him first.


Floyd Jax had covered many miles since he left the herd. He could not believe how long Desert Rose could keep up that smooth lope of hers. He’d heard Indian horses were good for long distances, but he’d never experienced it before. Now she was tiring quicker and having to rest more often and he knew he had better slow down. He was worn out too, but he’d made it to Portersville. Floyd , sore and exhausted slid out of the saddle in front of the mercantile and tied Desert Rose’s reins to the hitching rail. He looked around, and on seeing the Sherif’s Office sign, he stiffly walked toward it. Hap was just about to walk out the door as Floyd Jax came in. “You want somethin’ mister?”, the boy asked, half annoyed. “I was just going out for some coffee.”
“I need to see Doc Stevens,” Floyd said “You his deputy?”
“I am,” Hap III replied “What can I do for you?”
“Tell me where I can find Stevens,” Floyd stated.
“Probably on his way here, or at the bake shop with his wife.”, Hap replied. “Say, you look plum wore out, mister.”
“I need to see Stevens right away,” Floyd replied , becoming annoyed with the youth’s lackadaisical attitude. Uncaring, Hap sat back down in his chair and put his feet up on the desk in front of him. “Bake shop is about four doors up from here on the left,” he said as he pulled his hat down over his eyes “It’s noon, and you will probably find him there.” Not impressed by the lazy deputy, Floyd left and headed up the street toward Victoria’s Bake Shop.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Doc flapped open his checkered napkin and placed it on his lap. Victoria smiled warmly at her husband as she handed change to Almeda Wilks who had just purchased the last peach pie in the glass case. She winked at Doc as she crossed the room, to join him at their usual table. “Jake’s going to be disappointed when he comes by,” Doc commented as he rose to pull her chair out for her.
“Why?”, Victoria asked as she sat down.
“Because the preacher’s wife just carried the last peach pie out of here,” Doc replied with a grin. “It’s Wednesday and I bet ole Jake has been dreaming of that pie all night.”
“I have two of the cherry pies left and he will take one of those,” Victoria replied.
“As I hear it, “ Doc said with as wry grin on his face, “Titus is a true pie lover, but that wife of his can’t bake one to save the ranch.” Victoria giggled at his remark.. “J.W does very well with several things she bakes, but pie isn’t one of them.”
“So I have heard,” Doc said as young Charlie Wolf walked up to their table bringing them the sandwiches Victoria had prepared earlier. “Thanks’s boy,” Doc said “How do you like your job?”
“Just fine, sir,” the lad replied “Miss Victoria pays me twenty five cents when I come by and then I go to help my Pa over at the smithy. He says I am his apprentice now and I don’t get paid till I have learned the trade.”
“You give my regards to your Pa,” Doc said as he reached for his lemonade “And tell him that I am bringing Joe and Fancy by for shoes this week.”
“I’ll tell him, Sherrif,” the boy replied politely as he left them to remove the dirty cups and plates from the table next to them. The bell over the door of the shop clanged sharply as Floyd Jax walked in. He was covered in trail dirt and looking like a ghost. Doc immediately rose to his feet, very surprised to see him. “Jax? What the devil are you doing back in Portersville?”, he demanded.
Alarmed, Victoria turned around to see who her husband was speaking to. “Doc,” Floyd said “I been in the saddle for days. You got to come back with me. Sam is bad hurt and Jerrod is in serious trouble.”
Victoria saw her husband’s face turn white, and his hand tremble as he took the letter Floyd Jax was holding out to him. “Please, Doc,” the drover said “Scrub Pot says you got to come quick.”
“Doc?” Victoria questioned as she looked up at him. Doc was reading Jerrod’s letter and as he read on he became all the angrier. “Is Dalton dead?”, he demanded .
“Yes sir,” Jax replied “Jerrod shot him for trying to hurt Miss Sam.”
“What about this Vickers?”
“He lit out and we ain’t seen him since. But the old Indian thinks he will be gunning for Jerrod.”
Doc turned to his wife. “Vic,” he said “I am sorry. I have to go.”
The fact that he had not asked Floyd Jax anything about Sam worried Victoria Stevens. She rose to her feet , “Doc,” she said quietly “What about your niece?”
“There has been an accident.” he said as he handed her Jerrod’s letter. He placed his hands on her shoulders “Pray, Victoria, as hard as you can and tell the ladies at the church to do the same. I don’t know how long I will be gone, but I am bringing Sam back with me no matter how long it takes.”
Victoria turned to young Charlie Wolf who was wiping off the tables. “Charlie, “ she said “Go find Pede and tell him to get Doc’s horse ready to go. Tell him to go to the livery and take the best team of horses Hap Jr has for my buckboard. And hurry.”
“Yes ma’am,” the boy responded as he threw down the wet rag he’d been using and ran out the door. “Go on Doc,” she said turning back to her husband. “ You have a job to do.”
The way he kissed her then left her dizzy as she watched him walk outside the shop with drover.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++


It was high time that Hap the III earned his keep as a deputy. He jumped up as the door of the office flew open . “Howdy, Sherrif,” the boy said stumbling to his feet, “I see that your friend found you.”
“Am I going back to Texas?” Ned bellowed from his cell in the back of the jail.
“ Shut up Ned.,” Doc ordered and then he turned to young Johansen. “You want to be in the cavalry? You want to be a law man?”, he growled. Red faced over being caught napping on the job, Hap III nodded.
“Well, here is your chance, boy.,” Doc said “We are going to Kansas.”

Old Pede spent most of his days tending to the still that he kept outside of town. But when he was needed, he always managed to come through and the old man soon had Doc’s black groomed, saddled and ready to ride, Hap Johansen Jr.’s best team hitched to Victoria’s buckboard, and he’d loaded it with supplies they would need. All was waiting in the street in front of the Sherif’s Office with in the hour. The only thing lacking was a driver.
“Rose can’t go back,” Floyd told Doc. “She’s played out and Scrub Pot will scalp me if that mare turns up lame.”
“Don’t worry about your mare, Mr. Jax,” a female voice said from behind him. It was Victoria. She had just walked over from the bake shop, a covered basket in her hands. “She is now over at my barn being fed and resting. She will be fine.”
Though dazed from a long and hard ride, Floyd did not forget his manners, and removed his hat. “Thank you ma’am.”, he said “She’s a right fine horse. Fast too.”
“I’ll go get Decker,” Hap III interjected as he started toward the street.
“Not so fast, deputy,” Doc said sternly.
“I need my horse if we are going to Kansas, Doc.” the young man said.
“You see that wagon over yonder, Hap?” Doc said, gesturing toward the buckboard. “You’ll be driving that. ”
“Come on, Doc.,” the boy complained “Get Pede to drive that team. He’s drives them all the time.”
“Get up in that seat, boy,” Doc barked “and that’s an order!” Hap the III had to learn how to take orders or he would never make it at Fort Dodge. “Well, what if I need my horse for when we come back?”, he began.
“Get up there now!,” Doc ordered. Grumbling the young man stepped off the boardwalk to the street and climbed up onto the wagon seat, taking the reins of his father’s best team of horses. Doc turned to Victoria. “I don’t know how long we will be gone, Honey,” he said “Don’t want to think past what Jerrod said in his letter. I need you to pray for us all, especially Sam.”
“Come back to me, Elliot Stevens,” she said “and I will pray and I will miss you every minute you are gone.” She handed him the basket. “I put everything that would keep in here for you and Hap.” she added. Doc smiled warmly at his wife’s thoughtfulness as he put the basket under the seat of the buckboard..
“What’s in there?” Hap asked.
“Never you mind,” Doc cautioned “You’ll find out later and so will I. “ Then he went back to where Floyd and Victoria were waiting. “Jax, you need a day or two to rest, just like that mare.” he said.
“But I thought I’d ride with you, Doc to show you the way.”, he said. Doc grinned that cockeyed grin of his. “Son,” he said “If I can’t find a herd of cattle and the stubborn old Indian with it, then I guess I am pretty sorry as a tracker.”
Victoria put her hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Doc is right,” she said “You come with me. I will get you settled at the hotel, and see that you get some decent food.” Her words were like music to the exhausted man’s ears. “Thank you Mrs. Stevens,” he said “Thank you too, Doc. I’ll catch up in a day or two.”
Doc drew his wife aside. “I am coming back, Victoria,” he said “I love you.” He drew her into as warm embrace and kissed her. “Be careful, love,” she whispered as they parted. Doc vaulted into his saddle. “Vic,” Doc said as he drew up his reins “Go tell Titus I need him in town.” Victoria nodded. “Be safe,” she said “You too, Hap and I will tell your father and Suzy where you have gone.”
Hap tipped his hat and picked up the buggy whip “Thank’s Miss Victoria.” They left in a cloud of dust. Victoria turned to Floyd Jax. “Let’s get you looked after.”, she said.
“I ain’t slept in a bed since forever, Ma’am,” he said “and I’ve been living on jerky for the last three days.”
“Then I think you should get cleaned up and then come over to bakery”, she said as they crossed the street to the Portersville Hotel.

+++++++++++++++++

Now Jake Titus had gotten used to things being not so hectic, that being because Sherrif Elliot Stevens had been duly sworn in to office and things were quiet. He was a little worried when Victoria Stevens rode in to his front yard, hell bent for leather. Fancy Lady lathered and snorting from a long fast ride. With all the excitement Jake, flanked by J.W. and Suzy came out onto the porch of the ranch house.
“What is wrong , Vic?” he asked as she slid out of her saddle.
“Doc had to leave town,” she said worriedly “There has been some kind of trouble with that cattle drive and he has gone to take care of it.” One of Jake’s ranch hands came and took Fancy to the corral for water as Jake ushered Victoria inside. She handed him Jerrod Bently’s letter. “This ain’t good, Vic,” Jake said as he read it.
“No,” Victoria agreed as she followed him into the parlor. J.W. brought her some water to drink. “What happened?,” she asked.
“There was a shooting, and Doc’s niece has been hurt,” Victoria said “He left about an hour ago. He said to tell you to take over for him, Jake. That Ned Travis is supposed to be taken back to Texas for trial and....”
“Isn’t Nathan Travis taking him?” Jake demanded. “He’s a Texas Ranger.”
“As I hear it, he’s not with the rangers any more,” Victoria replied as she took a drink of water from the glass J. W had handed her. “He sent word back to his head quarters that he was done. He resigned, turned in his badge and married Fran Bradford . I just heard all about it from Almeda Wilks this morning.”
“What!” , Jake demanded., a look of great surprise on his face.
“They eloped and no one has seem them for the past three days.”, Victoria replied.”Almeda told me they’d gone off on some sort of honeymoon but she did not know where.”
“That is just like Fran,” J.W. stated, “She could have at least told you, Victoria.”
“Spur of the moment I guess,” Victoria replied . “seems she didn’t need either of us to stand up for her at her wedding.”
Jake crossed the parlor and went out into the hall, taking his black leather gun belt from where it hung by the front door. “Before word gets out that Stevens is gone, guess I better go into town and make my presence known, “ he said as he buckled the belt and tied the holster down. “We don’t need any unexpected guests, so to speak,” he added as he reached for his hat. He turned to his wife. “You look after Miss Victoria, J.W. and don’t forget you have to finish that outline you were working on yesterday.”
“That’s right,” J.W. replied. Jake plopped his hat on his head and pulled open the door. “Tell Suzy that she better be studying those school books when I get back. Or she won’t be going riding with young Johansen come this Saturday.”
“Young Hap went with Doc, Jake,” Victoria interjected ,“He is driving my buckboard..”
“May be being a deputy and doing a real job with shake some sense into that boy,” Jake growled to himself as he stepped out side, “can’t wait till the cavalry calls him in.”
He was on the bottom step of the porch when J.W. called out to him, telling him to take his riding horse , Windwalker, because that cussed mule of his had been turned out. Jake ignored her and walked off toward the barn. “Cussed mule, my foot,” he groused “That woman just doesn’t understand.” He walked across the barnyard to the fence and whistled loudly. Across the field, near the tree line, Molly Girl grazed with the horses but when she heard Jake’s whistle, her long ears went up and she cantered across the field to where he waited by the fence. “That’s my good old gal,” he said as he slipped a leather halter over her long sad looking face. He petted her black nose. “Cussed mule,” he said to himself, “Not my Molly.” Maybe it was true that the mule only loved Jake and would do anything for him. The two ranch hands who worked on the Double J were afraid of her because she bit and kicked. She had given Kane Wolf a devil of a time the last time he put shoes on her, but for Jake, that red mule was an angel. “J.W. just doesn’t understand,” Jake muttered as he led the mule into the barn and saddled her.
As Victoria Stevens and J. W. Titus sat in the parlor mulling over the news of the day, they heard Jake ride out. J.W. left her chair and lifted to curtain and watched her husband depart. “Windwalker is a good ride, Vic and fast,” she said “But he always rides Molly, and has since the day his pappy gave her to him. ”
“Doc thinks it is funny,” Victoria mused “He says no law man should be riding a mule, especially that red one.”
J.W. Titus watched after her husband, then let the curtain fall back into place. “Jake loves that critter”, she said “Always has. I never understood why because she is meaner than a rattlesnake.”


++++++++++++++++


It was a long and tense ride for Doc Stevens and his young deputy. They stopped only to rest the horses and after three and half days on the trail, they finally caught sight of the grazing cattle in the distance. Doc was worried sick about Sam , but during the journey he had been pleasantly surprised by Hap III’s ability to cooperate under stress circumstances. May be the boy wasn’t as lazy and selfish as everyone thought he was.
“What’s she like?”, Hap asked as Doc rode silently along side the buckboard.
“Who?”, Doc answered distractedly.
“Your niece?”, Hap replied “I never met her.”
“You don’t need to be thinking about Sam, deputy” Doc cautioned, his hazel eyes narrowing “She ain’t none of your concern.”
“That’s not I meant, Doc,” the boy defended “I was just wondering about her. Her being a wrangler and head of this outfit, that’s all.”
“Sam comes from a long line of wranglers,” Doc said “Her Pa was one of the best.” Remembering Joe Dodge always made Doc sad. He missed his friend and Joe’s untimely death had left Sam never knowing her father, only the stories told of him.
Sensing that Doc did not want to talk, Hap kept quiet, listening to the sounds of the cattle up ahead, and the jingle of the team’s harnesses.


Scrub Pot was tending to one of the drovers mounts. The horse probably had a sprain. He looked up from his work to see Doc ride in and went to meet him.
Doc swung out of his saddle as Hap drew the wagon to a stop about a fifteen feet behind him. Scrub Pot read his old friend’s tight lipped expression as he walked up to him.
“She has opened her eyes a few times,” Scrub Pot said as he shook hands with Doc. “ Sam is not out of the woods by any means, but I believe she is going to come back to us.”
“She’s in God’s hands,” Doc replied worriedly, “How about Jerrod. How is he holding up?”
Scrub Pot smiled. “We owe the boy,” he said “He saved her life.”
“I know,” Doc replied , “I read his letter, but he did not let on like he’d done anything, but shoot that snake, Dalton. His concern was for Sam, not himself.”
“Can we save him, Doc?,” the old man asked quietly “There is no law out here. The boy could hang for killing Dalton.”
“Not in my jurisdiction,” Doc swore “I have to hear his side of the story and if Sam remembers what happened, I will call it self defense and leave it go at that. But if it comes to a trial, There’s Jake Titus back in Portersville . He is a fine attorney. What about this Vickers? The dead man’s partner?“
”Cousin.,” Scrub Pot answered. “He’s gone , but he swore he would kill Jerrod.” “Sounds like you got hold of a couple of real bad eggs, “ Doc said “We will get this all sorted out once Sam wakes up. A man who attacks a woman like this Dalton did, deserves to die.” he added in disgust. Scrub Pot nodded his agreement as Doc turned to his deputy.
“Hap,” he called out.
“Yes sir,” the deputy replied.
“You take care of the team and that wagon.” he said “ Miss Victoria will have me sleeping in the barn if anything happens to either of them.”
Grumbling the boy climbed down from the wagon to do as he had been instructed.
“I am going to put Joe up,” Doc said, “then I want to see Sam and talk to Jerrod.”
Scrub Pot took the black’s reins from Doc’s gloved hand and handed them over to one of the drovers who had been helping him with the lame horse, “Take very good care of this horse, John,” the old man said quietly. John Prince, nodded and led the black away.
Scrub Pot turned to Doc. “Come,” he said. Doc followed him across camp to the chuck wagon. The old man pulled the canvas flap aside “Doc is here, Jerrod,” he said
I don’t know if I was relieved or scared that he had arrived, but at this point I did not care , I was just glad to know he’d come as I had asked him to.
“She’s quiet,” I whispered back to him. “Seems to be resting better than last night.”
“Good.,” I heard Doc say “ Let her sleep. Jerrod I want to talk to you.”
I don’t know if Sam knew I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before I climbed out of the wagon or not, but I thought I saw a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth.
It was starting to get dark, as I sat down by Scrub Pot’s cook fire with Doc. I was so used to smelling the beans that I hardly noticed he’d added rabbit meat to it or that the day crew had come in to eat. Doc looked plumb wore out and very worried. “I read your letter,” he said “But I want you to tell me everything that happened.”
I watched the fire, knowing that I had nothing to hide. “I shot Dalton because he was attacking Sam. There is no telling what he’d have done if I hadn’t come along.” I saw the sherrif bite his lip in silent anger. “I should not be thinking about personal feelings right now, Bentley,” he said “ Sam is my kin, my blood and if you hadn’t killed that snake, I would have hunted him down and done it myself.”
“He did not succeed, Doc,” I replied “I got there before he had a chance to hurt her. She fell over the edge of that cliff, when she staggered backward. I felt the tears coming again and remembered that a man is not supposed to cry. “I tried to catch her,” I said quietly. I felt his hand on my shoulder. “I know you did, son,” he said “What matters is that you got there in time, saved her from Dalton and from dying on that ledge. “
”I never killed a man before, Doc,” I said “Don’t ever want to do it again.”
He was quiet and stared into the fire, I could tell his mind was taking him back somewhere into his past. “If killing can be avoided, it should be,” he said. “Now tell me about Dalton and Vickers and what lead up to all of this.” We talked for over and hour, and Doc listened carefully.
“I believe you, Jerrod,” he said “but I have to hear Sam’s side of the story too, and then it can be settled.”
“What about Vickers?”, I asked.
“God help him,”, Doc replied coldly.
I told Doc everything I had seen and done, knowing that in this area, he was the law and I would go with him willingly when the time came. But for now, I would return to my vigil and wait for Sam to come back to me.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Sam faded in and out of consciousness, at times seemed restless and would move around on her bunk. Scrub Pot seemed to know she would be all right in time and his faith never wavered. I was not so optimistic. She had a bad concussion, her left arm was broken in two places, several bad cuts and a badly sprained ankle and knee, but she was holding on.
Outside the wagon, Doc walked away from Scrub Pot after they’d finished talking. I saw him rubbing at his eyes as he went off to be alone. “Where’s Doc going?”, I whispered from the back of the wagon.
“He needs to be alone. He will come back,” Scrub Pot said “You did what had to be done, Jerrod Bently. Be at peace, my son.”
“Every time I sit here with her I want her to open her eyes and talk to me. Yell at me. Call me a green horn, anything! I just want her back.,” I said as I climbed out the of the wagon to stretch my legs. “Her eyes open and close sometimes, but that is all.”
“Laudanum,” Scrub Pot said quietly. “She is drugged for the pain. Be patient. I know that you love her. Sam knows it too and because of that, she will come back to you. I do not expect you to understand what I am going to tell you, because it is the way the Blackfoot believe.”
I looked at the old man, waiting for him to go on, hoping I would find some comfort in his words. “Sam is healing herself from inside,” he said “All her power, all that is her , she has pulled in to heal the injury. When she has healed it she will wake up. She will not die. This I know. You must have faith, Jerrod Bently, trust God and Sam.” I saw Ely leading Trouble up to the back of the wagon. “Get that stud away from there,” I shouted. Scrub Pot put his hand on my arm.
“Silence, Jerrod Bently.,” he said “I told him to bring her horse.” I did not understand what was going on. I was worried, exhausted and barely able to keep my sanity. Scrub Pot walked away from me and took the stud’s lead rope from Ely. He then quietly stood with the stallion at his side and as I watched, I understood what he was doing. Trouble was someone familiar to Sam, to call her back from where she had gone. I heard him nicker softly and rumble in his throat. Then, the old man looked up at me. “Come,” he said . As I walked over to them, I saw the stud’s head reach into the back of the wagon. I stopped and waited. It was almost like he was communicating with Sam and as I watched I saw her reach out to touch his quivering nose.
“It’s alright,” Scrub Pot said “You stay with her now.” and he led Trouble away.
Through out the night each of the men took his turn standing guard outside the wagon. Scrub Pot never slept, he sat cross legged on his blanket, his eyes closed in prayer, his bible in his hands, beseeching God that his grand daughter would survive her injuries. Doc dozed near the fire, exhausted from his long ride, while his deputy snored loudly from the back of the buckboard. I lay down under the wagon and maybe I slept, maybe I didn’t. I could not lose her, that was all there was too it. She was hurt badly, but I knew that had I not come along when I did, it would have been far worse.
“A man like Tom Dalton needed killing,” Scrub Pot said quietly as though he was able to read my thoughts.
“I will go back with Doc as soon as I know Sam is going to be all right,” I said .
”You will lead us, Jerrod,” Scrub Pot answered stoically, “Have faith.”
“And what about Sam?”, I asked “She can’t go on....” Scrub Pot cut me off . “She will go back to Portersville with Doc and stay there until she has recovered enough to return to Texas with me.
I turned over on my blanket thinking of what the old man had said and as I closed my eyes I prayed for all of us.

+++++++++++++++++


“Her injuries are too severe.,” Scrub Pot said “She will have to go back with you.” “ That’s why I brought the wagon,” Doc replied “ You know she will want to get right back into the saddle. That girl is just like her daddy, Indian stubborn. Worse, than a mule.!”
Scrub Pot tossed a handful of dry sticks into the fire in front of them. “She will have to listen to me,” he said “She took a heavy blow to the head and that will take time to heal. I lost my son and I will not lose his daughter too.”,
“Victoria and I will look after Sam.” Doc promised “ I am only sorry that it wasn’t me who killed Dalton.”
Scrub Pot was silent for a moment. “It was by the grace of God that Jerrod went after Sam that day, Elliot, “ he said “What is done is done. Nothing can be changed.”
Doc gazed into the dancing flames of the early morning cook fire as they waited for the water in the old enamel coffee pot to boil. “You will need Jerrod to get these cattle to market, “ he said “I can’t take him to jail, like the law says I have to.”
“After all he told you, can you not say he shot Dalton in self defense?”, Scrub Pot asked worriedly.
“It is his word against Jeb Vickers accusations if he shows up ane makes any,” Doc replied “I hope that Sam will remember what happened when she gets her senses back. Then Jerrod won’t be headed to jail or worse. “
“The boys are watching for trouble since Vickers ran off.” Scrub Pot replied. “Sam will not be happy with either of us.” he added “It is decided . She is going back with you as soon as she is able to travel.”
“I saw men during the war, hurt worse than she is, get back on their horses and fight,” Doc said quietly, “and when it was over, they collapsed, dead as a door nail.”
Scrub Pot was quiet for a moment “She is too young and too stubborn to understand ,” he said “Besides it will be good for her to be around your wife.”
Doc smiled “I think so too. Victoria is quite a lady.” The old man grinned “It is good to see you happy, my brother.” he said.
Doc slapped his friend on the back. “Who knows, Zachariah, maybe you will meet someone too.”
“No, ” he replied sadly “ I would always look for Alice in another woman.”
“I thought that way once,” Doc replied “But when I met Victoria, and well, I just knew she was the one for me.”
“Humph,” the old man growled and went back to stirring the fire. The night crew would be coming in soon and he had to have breakfast ready.

I stayed with Sam every free moment I had. I did not care about anything other than praying that when she awakened she would be the same as she was before the accident. I heard someone at the rear of the wagon and a second later Doc Stevens was climbing in.
“How is she?” he whispered as he sat down on a wooden barrel next to me.
“Still sleeping,” I replied as I gently stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers. “She has moved around a little, but that is about all.”
“She’ll be all right, Jerrod,.” Doc said with strong conviction in his voice. “There isn’t a man in this outfit who isn’t out there praying for her in one fashion or another.”
“I am grateful for that,” I answered as I looked down at her, lying there under the Indian blanket in the dim smokey light of the lantern. She looked awful, her face bruised, stitches at her hairline where Scrub Pot had sewed up the wound, and her arm splinted with two pieces of board. I had been very glad that she was not conscious when her grandfather set those broken bones. At least Sam had not seemed to feel that. Every time I saw her like she was, I wanted to kill Tom Dalton all over again. I could see by the look on Doc’s face that he felt the same way. As we sat together beside her, Sam became restless and for the first time since she took that deadly fall, she called out in her sleep to her mother somewhere in her memories. I took her hand as Doc moved closer to her bedside. “Wake up honey girl,” he said softly, “It’s me.. Doc. I am here and so is Jerrod. Come on Sam. Open your eyes.” Doc muttered something in what sounded like Blackfoot. The familiar sound of his voice began to call her back from that place in her mind where she had gone.
She moved again and whispered an answer in the same language. He looked over at me, his face a mask of relief. “Praise God,” he said “Say something to her, Jerrod,” he prompted. I raised her hand to my lips and kissed her fingers. “I love you Sam Dodge,” I said “You have to come back, because I can’t live my life without you.”
“I can’t go home to Victoria until you tell me you are coming back to us, honey girl,” Doc added.
Her dark eyes slowly opened and she looked up at me. “Grandfather?”
I did not care who she asked for, if it was me, or her horse, it did not matter. She was coming around slowly. Outside the wagon, Scrub Pot heard her voice and it took the old man only a few seconds to get to his feet and into the wagon with us. “Samantha Ann,” he said in his usual stoic way “I am here.” She looked at him and a hint of a smile came to her lips. “It wasn’t Trouble’s fault,” she said in a dry whisper “I fell.”
“I know child,” Scrub Pot replied and then speaking in the language of the Blackfoot, he told his granddaughter that he was fully aware of what had happened and that her stallion was all right and waiting for her.”
Her dazed eyes turned to Doc. “You came back?”, she questioned. Doc and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. “Sure I did, Sam,” Doc replied “Jerrod sent for me when you got hurt.”
From the look on her face, I could tell she was pulling her thoughts together and after a moment she looked up at me, a smile like I had never seen before and a warm light slowly coming back into her eyes. “I heard you, Jerrod.” she said softly . Scrub Pot smiled knowingly at Doc as he motioned him to come outside with him so Sam and I could be alone. Once outside, he stuck his head back in, peering into the wagon. “She needs rest, Jerrod Bently,” he said “Only a few minutes with her.”
I nodded and smiled down at her. As bruised and banged up as she was from the fall, to me she was the most beautiful woman in the world, the woman who would one day be my wife, no matter what I had to do to persuade her.
She reached up and touched my hair, and then my face. I took her hand and kissed it again. “Were you hurt?”, she asked.
“No,” I answered “I am fine. Just was a little worried about you.”
“I couldn’t get my knife fast enough,” she whispered. I could see that trying to talk to me was tiring her out very quickly. I stroked her cheek gently. “It’s all right, Sam,” I said “He will not be able to hurt you or any one else again.”
Her eyes closed. “I know,” she said sleepily.
“I love you, Sam,” I said.
“I... love..” her words trailed off in to silence as she fell back asleep. It did not matter if they hung me tomorrow, she had told me just what I wanted to hear. I kissed her on the cheek and left.
I joined Doc, Scrub Pot and Ely Jax outside the wagon. “Is she awake?”, Ely asked anxiously.
“ She was,” I answered “ but she’s has fallen back to sleep.”
“Thank you , Jesus!,” the young drover said, his relief evident in his voice.” May be I will come by to visit her tomorrow.”
Scrub Pot nodded. “Doc?”, Ely asked “If we are going to move this herd I need my brother back here to do his job. Any idea about how far behind you and the deputy he might be?”
“I left him in the care of my wife,” Doc replied “I am sure by now she has got him rested , fed and ready to ride. Maybe two days or so.”
He turned to me and I thought I might have seen a glimmer of jealousy in his eyes, but Ely Jax kept that kind of thing to himself. “Guess you’ll be stepping in for Sam,” he said.
“He will,” Doc stated firmly before I could answer. I did not know what to say, I just stood there looking back at the odd expression that crossed Ely’s face. “We’ll move out when you give the order, boss,” he said to me and then walked away.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I’m about sick of eating beans and biscuits,” Hap III complained to Doc “and how long are we going to be hanging around here anyway? Cattle stink.”
“As long as it takes, boy,” Doc growled “Now tend to greasing those wheels and don’t miss a spot. I need that buckboard to ride as smooth a possible. Understand?”
Grumbling, the young man picked up the dripping can of grease and brush to begin applying it to the rear axle of the buckboard.
It had been a week since Doc arrived . Sam was improving, but far from recovered. She did not take it well at all when her Grandfather told her she was going back to Portersville with her uncle.
“What about my horse?”, she fumed as she sat on the edge of her bunk. “And where is Desert Rose?”
“She is back in Portersville, Sam,” Doc replied . Her headache was wearing her down, “How..”she began and then became quiet. “I don’t want to know, Uncle Elliot,” she said. Floyd Jax had returned on a horse from the Johansen Livery and with a letter from Victoria, telling her husband that Desert Rose needed rest and that Kane Wolf had seen to the care of her chipped hooves.
“Your mare is fine, Sam,” Doc replied “My wife knows horses. She will take good care of her, and besides, trying to make this trip back with Joe and Trouble with a mare along would be a recipe for disaster. “
She lay back down on her bunk, the pain from her injuries far worse than she would ever admit. “I don’t want to leave,” she said stubbornly.
“You will do as I say, Samantha Ann,” Scrub Pot commanded. “You will go with Doc in the morning. Jerrod and I will take the herd the rest of the way.”
She was tired. “He can do it,” she admitted quietly.
“I have faith in Jerrod., “ Scrub Pot said “We will settle the accounts and return to Portersville in a few weeks.”
A few weeks, she thought to herself.. A few weeks without Jerrod . The tears sprang into her eyes. “What is wrong, Sam?”, Doc asked worriedly. She was too stubborn to tell him that she would miss Jerrod Bently far more than the cattle drive. “Nothing,” Sam said quietly. “Uncle Elliot?”
“Yes, honey,”, Doc replied
“Jerrod killed Tom Dalton. Don’t you have to take him to jail?”
“As I see it, Jerrod shot Dalton in self defense.” Doc replied “And after all he told me and what you told me, that is my decision. I am releasing him on his own recognizance to finish the drive. If Vickers tries to say he murdered Dalton, there will probably end up being a trial or at least some kind of hearing in Portersville. But you let me worry about that, Sammy. It is my job.”

I could hardly keep my mind on my work. The herd was quiet for once. Not too many of those long horns had spooked or wandered off, so I stood my watch and on my way back to camp stopped to pick some wild flowers for Sam. I did not want to let her go. I couldn’t let her go. I had almost lost her and early tomorrow she was leaving with Doc. My better sense told me it was the best thing to do, or her convalescence would take far longer than if she stayed. I looked up as I finished picking the flowers and saw Ely Jax ride by. He paused. “She any better?”, he asked. I did not care for the look in his blue eyes. “Yes,” I said “I am on my way to see her now.”
“Figured as much,” Jax replied “We movin’ on tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan.,” I answered and I climbed back into the saddle, the flowers in hand.
“You know she’s going back to that border town with Doc, don’t you,” Jax said smugly.
“I know,” I answered “It’s the best thing for her.”
He looked like he was sizing me up and I sensed that there was far more going on than just his casual words. “Tell Sam I’ll be by to see her in a little while,” he said and then clucked to his horse and rode away. His attitude rubbed me the wrong way. I would not be his message bearer.


++++++++++++++++++++++++


Doc had his horse saddled and was ready to ride. It was dawn and Hap Johansen III grumbled his way through harnessing the team and hitching them to the buckboard. It was going to be long slow and dangerous trek back to Portersville. When they had come, they moved too fast for any of the hostile Indians, or outlaws who might have been out there to notice, but going back, they’d have to move slower.
“Beware of the Comanche, “ Scrub Pot warned “To me they are brothers, but to you, well.. It could be dangerous.”
If Doc Stevens was nervous about hostel Indians, he sure didn’t show it as he buckled the throat latch on the black’s bridle. Doc finished, then drew his Navy Colt from its holster, and opened the chamber to make sure it was loaded with six bullets. “I have dealt with Apache and the Comanche many times before,” he said “We will be alright. You just keep praying for a safe passage.”
“Have no fear, my brother,” the old man said “Remember, prayer is my business.”
Doc grinned “How could I ever forget it. I think you are the only Blackfoot war chief ever to enter the seminary in Oklahoma City.”
“I was.,” Scrub Pot replied “And how shocked they were to find me civilized and educated.”
“Only because of Alice,” Doc teased “She led you to Christ.”
“Indeed she did, Elliot,” the old mad agreed “I walked the rest of the way myself.”
“I know,” Doc replied “I only met her a few times, but she was quite a lady.”
“A beautiful soul,” Scrub Pot replied quietly “and I loved her very much.”
“We best get started,” Doc prompted “Is Sam ready?”
“She asked me to see that Trouble is ready to go” Scrub Pot said “You know Sam and that horse. She will not leave without him.”
“I figured that.,” Doc replied as he fumbled in his pocket the stub of cigar he had left. “Think I’ll have a smoke, while you see to your orders.”
“Orders, indeed,” the old man groused as he walked away.


++++++++++++++


Some one nudged me with the toe of his boot. I woke out of a dead sleep, sitting up quickly and struck my head of the bottom of the wagon. “Easy, Jerrod,” I heard Doc say “Just thought you ought to get up and see us off.” A little stunned by being thrust back into the world of the living from a reasonably good sleep, I threw aside my blanket and climbed out from under the wagon. “Is Sam all right?” I asked. Doc was looking me straight in the eye as he lit his cigar. “She’s not really awake,” he said as he released a puff of smoke. “ Scrub Pot gave her laudanum so she would sleep during the ride today.”
“That is good.,” I said, recalling that had been the plan to try to keep her pain dulled for as long as possible. He was still looking straight at me. “What are your intentions where my niece is concerned, Bently?,” he asked “I am her uncle and have been one of her guardians since she was a baby, and I figure I have the right to know.”
Until now my intentions of a future with Sam Dodge had been a dream of mine, but now I was being asked what they were. “I intend to marry her if she will have me,” I said with a yawn.
Doc laughed out loud as the smoke curled around his face in the early morning mist. “She’ll have you,” he said confidently “but it’s going to be like breaking a mustang filly to saddle.”
I walked away to where Scrub Pot had set the coffee pot on the fire to boil. I poured myself a cup of his thick and bitter brew. I’d grown used to it by now and held the hot cup between my hands to warm them. “I think you ought to go say your good byes, to her, Jerrod,” Doc said as he joined me by the fire. “We’re leaving as soon as Johansen gets that team hitched up.” I handed my steaming cup to Doc and went back to the chuck wagon. I knocked on the wooden tailgate. “Sam,”I said “It’s Jerrod. May I come in?”
“Help me carry her to the buckboard..” Scrub Pot answered quietly, “She is sound asleep.” A moment later he lifted her up over the rear of the wagon and handed her into my arms. She nestled there like a child. I looked up at her Grandfather. “She is fine, Jerrod,” he said reassuringly, “take her over to the buckboard and get her settled. Then go get Trouble.”
“Sam murmured something as I held her. “I don’t understand,” I said to Scrub Pot as he stood there in the back of the wagon. “What is she trying to say?”
“It’s Blackfoot,” he said “She is telling you to be careful.” Gently I kissed her on the forehead and carried her to Doc’s buckboard. Being ever careful of her badly broken arm I laid her down on the bed her uncle had prepared for her. Her right hand grasped mine. “I will miss you,” she said sleepily. I kissed her hand as I held it. “I’ll miss you too, Sam,” I whispered back to her “But you have to get better. Then, when I get back to Portersville, may be you will let me ride Trouble.”
She smiled. “Bring him to me, Jerrod,” she asked. When I let go of her hand and looked down at her now peaceful face, I was greatly relieved. She was fast asleep again. I left her there and went to fetch her horse. I was always a little nervous around that big stud, but Trouble and I had reached sort of an understanding. He tolerated me and I tolerated him. He’d been out of sorts for days and I figured it was because Desert Rose was gone and he was missing her. Doc was just about ready to pull out, and I all ready missed Sam. Trying not to think about it, I slipped the rope halter over Trouble’s nose. For the first time, I touched that white diamond on his forehead and he stood as still as a statue, then lowered his head to touch mine. “Don’t worry, fella,” I told him “You are going home and you will be with her all the way. Now, you be a good man, and take care of Sam for both of us.” The rumble in his throat was his answer and he nosed me the same way he did Sam and her Grandfather. “Good boy.” I said as I led him away from the makeshift paddock he had shared with Desert Rose.
Doc was mounted up and ready to go when we got there. As soon as the stud caught Sam’s scent, he pulled away from me like I never had a hold of him at all and trotted directly to the buckboard , nickering and rumbling as he always did when he was trying to talk to Sam. Scrub Pot calmly waked over to the horse and caught his trailing rope and spoke to him firmly in the Blackfoot tongue.
“What did he say, Doc?”, I asked as the old man tied the stud’s rope to the back of the buckboard. Doc drew on the cigar he’d been smoking. “He told him not to fight with Joe,” he said.
“ Thought your black was a gelding.”I said.
Doc laughed “You’re just too polite to lift his tail, Bently,” he said “Joe’s a breeding stallion. One of the best to ever come out of North Texas. Once Victoria and I get settled down, I am going to find him some mares and put him to work. ” He turned in his saddle to see his deputy coming across the camp toward the wagon, finishing the last of his too early in the morning coffee. “It’s about time, Johansen,” he said. Glowering at Doc, Hap climbed up into the wagon seat and gathered the reins of the team.
“You drive that team as though you were carrying your mama’s best Swedish china and crystal,” Doc said “one wrong move and we could hurt Sam worse than she already is. Understand?”
“Yes , sir,” Hap replied as he released the break “I will do my best.”
Doc nodded, “I know you will, son,” he added. Young Hap Johansen III grinned. Maybe this trip home would be easier than he’d thought, he’d finally won Doc’s respect.
I felt the old Indian’s hand on my shoulder as I stood there in the dampness of the early morning. “Go tell her good bye, Jerrod Bently, “ he said “You must trust that God will bring you safely back together with her when our work here is done.”
I went to the side of the buckboard. Sam looked comfortable as she lay there drowsy from the pain killer Scrub Pot had given her. As I touched her face, she reached up and took my hand. “I am sorry, Jerrod,” she yawned.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I replied quietly “Scrub Pot and I will take care of the herd. Don’t you worry about anything.”
“Will you ride back to Texas with me?,” she asked.
“You bet I will, Sam,” I promised as I smoothed the colorful Indian blanket around her to ward off the early morning chill.
“You will get the herd to Abilene.,” she said , “I know you can do it.”
I could not help but smile. “Guess I ‘m not a green horn anymore,” I teased gently.
“No,” she said fighting to stay awake a little longer “ You are almost a real cowboy.”
I leaned over the side of the wagon and kissed her softly. “Go home with Doc and get better, Sam,” I said “Scrub Pot and I will see you as soon as we can get to back to Portersville.”
“What God has joined together, let no man put asunder,” the old Indian muttered to himself. Doc finished his cigar and threw the butt on the ground. “Well, Zachariah ,” he said as he turned his horse to the South. “They do make a pretty good team, don’t they.”
“God go with you, Elliot,” Scrub Pot said “Give my love and gratitude to Victoria and get my granddaughter to her safe.”
“Don’t worry, “ Doc replied ,“Sam will be riding that stud in the streets of Portersville by the time you and Bently get there.”
I watched them pull away, and watched until they were small specks that moved across the endless planes and into the horizon.. Some how I knew that they would be safe. I could not explain it in words, it was more like a feeling that came over me and told me that all would be well. Scrub Pot walked passed me his white hat squarely on his head , his grey streaked black hair in the usual single braid down the back of his red shirt. He was heading for the picket line. “We’ve got a herd to move, Jerrod Bently,” he said “Wakeeze must be made ready. I will be riding point today.”


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Victoria tied her long blond hair up in a colorful silk scarf and donned her full length apron. She was cleaning today. Cleaning up a room in her cottage that had not been used since before the death of her first husband in the battle of Shiloh. It was supposed to have been the nursery where she would have rocked the children she and Jack Langford and dreamed of having. She had let go of the pain years ago. Jack never came home and all she had left to remember him by was the wedding ring he’d given her when they married and a tintype picture of him in his grey confederate uniform. The once comforting image now felt like looking into the face of a stranger. Jack was long dead. She had moved on, remarried and was very happy with her new husband. She was getting the room ready for Sam. Having not met Doc’s niece, but once briefly, Victoria did not know what to expect. She was sure of one thing and that was that Doc loved this girl as though she was his own and that was all she needed to accept Sam into their family.
“Victoria!?” some one called out from the open front door of the house. “I am in the back bedroom, J.W.”, she called back. “Come in.”
“I stopped at the laundress’s house. I have the sheets you wanted,” J.W. Titus said as she slipped through the front door with a wicker basket of laundry in her hands.
There was Victoria, looking like a house servant, a feather duster in her hand. “That room is so stuffy,” she said as she set down her duster and took the basket from her friend. “I have the windows open, and that is about all I can do.”
“I never knew you had another room back here.,” J.W. commented.
“I closed it up after Jack died,” Victoria answered. “Now we need it for Doc’s niece.”
“Did you hear anything from Doc since he left?” her friend asked.
“No,” Victoria replied, a little worried “But I have faith. He will be back soon and I have to be ready. I do not know how badly Sam has been hurt, but from what that letter from Jerrod Bently said, I thought I had better be ready for anything.”
“Sam?,” J.W. questioned. “Was she at your wedding? I don’t remember meeting her?”
“She was not there,” Victoria replied “She gave her horse to Doc so he could make it back to town in time.”
The Portersville novelist shook her head . Then she pulled off her riding jacket, and removed her hat. “Give me that duster, Vic,” she said “Jake is in the office today, Suzy is at home mooning over Hap and I am off for the afternoon. Let me help you get that room ready.” Victoria paused and took her friends things from her, but the room began to spin. “Victoria?” J. W. noticed the pale sick look that came over Victoria’s face. Victoria threw her hand over her mouth and ran from the hall and out to the privy. J. W. stared after her. “What in the world?”
That was the second time that morning that she had been sick. It seemed to be certain smells that set it off. As she composed herself in the privacy of the outhouse, she thought that if it happened again tomorrow, she would see Dr. O’Brien. May be she caught some kind of sickness? She stopped in her kitchen and using the iron hand pump, splashed some cold water into the sink and then on her face. Yes, that was much better. J.W. Titus was standing in the kitchen door looking at her with great concern on her sun tanned face. “You all right Vic?”
“Yes,” she replied “I am now. I’ve had an upset stomach for a few days now.”
“I had that once,” J. W. mused “it was Susanna Faye making her presence known.”
“Let’s get that room cleaned up,” Victoria said to change the subject “ I have to feed the chickens and horses, then go over to the shop for a little while.” J.W. followed her back to the second bedroom and picked up the feather duster. “Did you make some peach pie this week?” she asked.
“Jeanne,” Victoria cautioned as her stomach lurched again “This is not a good time to ask me about pie.”
“All right,” J.W. replied. “Lets get the room ready.” The two women set to work and with in an hour, white curtains fluttered at the open window and the single bed was made up with clean sheets and a colorful quilt. Victoria brought an oil lamp from her parlor and placed it on the now clean dresser top.
“It looks fine,” she declared “I don’t know what this young lady’s tastes are like, but this is to be home to her for a while.”
J. W nodded “I will send Suzy by with some flowers for the room once they get here. “, she said.
Victoria smiled “That would be nice. Almeda said she would bring some too.” She walked her friend to the front door of the cottage. “Have you heard anything from the publishers in New York?”, she asked “About this new story you sent in?”
“No,” J. W. replied “But it hasn’t been long enough. They take their time, those New York Yankees and you know how hard it is to get mail out here. I didn’t tell you this yet because Jake is still thinking about it, but he has sent his credentials to one of those well known lawyers back East in New York. He doesn’t think he will hear anything back, but who knows. Don’t think we will be putting the Double J up for sale any time soon.”

Jake Titus noticed the stack of unopened mail that lay on the edge of the desk in front of him. “Well,” he commented as he picked it up and started looking through it. “At least that lazy no account deputy got off his duff long enough to go over to the post office a time or two before he left. ” Jake did not think much of Hap Johansen III, especially where his daughter was concerned., nor did he care for the idea of Doc taking the boy on as a deputy. It did not matter at this point. While Doc was away, Jake was acting sherrif of Portersville again. He sat down in the chair he had happily vacated when Doc Stevens took the job. It was there in the stack of mail he was sorting, that Jake Titus found the key to winning a big victory on behalf of Jerrod Bently should charges of murder be leveled against him by Dalton’s kin. Jake drew that latest wanted posters out of a large envelope and there staring back at him was the sketched image of a rough looking man in his late thirties. Thomas Lee Dalton, wanted in Tennessee for murder and questioning in the disappearances of two women in Texas. Jake grinned. “Hallelujah!” he stated “Thank you Lord!” If it came down to a trial, Jake Titus would easily be able to prove that Tom Dalton was wanted dead of alive, and there was a reward!. He dug further into the stack of mail. That was when he saw it. At first he could not believe his eyes, but there it was, a long envelope addressed to Mr. Jacob D. Titus, Attorney At Law. He stared at the return address written in very elegant script in the upper left hand corner. Bailey, Myer, Hooten and Krackl of New York. Was his future in that envelope? That Yankee law firm was one of the finest in the East and never had he expected to hear from them, after he’d written out of curiosity one day. Never in a million years had Titus expected a reply.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

For Doc and Hap III, the trip back to Portersville had gone on without incident. There had been signs of Apache and Comanche too, but nothing so recent that it caused Doc much concern. They were probably too busy hunting to worry about him and his party. So they moved on.
Sam was not one to stay down and sat on the wagon seat with young Johansen as he drove the team. Doc rode on ahead, looking for signs trouble. They’d kept a steady pace. “You best be careful with that arm,” Hap cautioned. “I know somebody who broke his arm like you did and it never did heal straight.”
“He didn’t have my Grandfather set the bones and bind his arm to the splint either.”, she said as she tried to move her swollen fingers.
“It hurt much?:”, Hap asked.
“Yeah,” she replied “But not as bad as it did a while back.”
“I’ve tried to take it easy with the ruts and rocks in the trail, ” Hap said apologetically as they rode along, Sam’s horse following behind the buckboard. “Your uncle says you are not to stay up here with me if you start to get a headache,” Hap said “You’re all right, ain’t you?”
Sam glowered at him. “My uncle is not my keeper and I will have a headache if I am sitting here with you or lying in the back trying to sleep.”
“He’s concerned for you..”Hap replied .’That’s all. You know, we’ve been traveling for days, and I am still not sure what to call you. Miss Dodge seems a bit formal, don’t you think?’”
“Only if I was in Philadelphia,” Sam spat “and I like Texas much better.”
“You were in Philadelphia?”
“For a while,” she said “And you can call me Sam. I’ve been called that since I can remember.”
“Ok, Sam,” Hap began “Tell me about your life back East. It might be good to pass the time that way. Sounds interesting.”
“What about you?”, Sam asked “Where did you come from?”
“Sweden,” he said “at least Grand Pappy and my Pa did. “
”Were you born here?” Sam asked.
“We come out West on one of them wagon trains from Saint Louis when I was a baby,” Hap said “Grand Pappy and Pa started a livery and black smith business in Portersville when it was not much more than a trading post. They are still running it and I guess one day I will have my turn. That will be after I get out of the Cavalry.”
Sam gave the young man a doubtful look. “You?,” she said “Are you sure that is what you want to do?”
“Already signed up.,” Hap replied proudly “I took this job with Sherrif Stevens until they call me for duty.”
“My Grandfather was in the cavalry,” Sam said “I remember it, even though I was just a small child.”
“What did he do?” Hap asked “Was he a scout? I mean, obviously he is an Indian.”
“Blackfoot.,” Sam said proudly “and he was the best horse trainer Fort Dodge ever had. His whole life has been horses. He took his name from Fort Dodge when he married my grandmother.”
Hap turned to Sam, looking at her dark eyes and long shining auburn hair. “I see him in you,” he comented “Was your grandmother white?”
“She was. ,” Sam replied “Alice Marley was her name. She was a trapper’s daughter. My Grandfather left his tribe to be with her.”
“Is she back at Fort Dodge?” Hap asked.
“No,” Sam replied quietly “She died a long time ago.”
They rode along in silence for a while. “Your head aching?”, Hap asked, trying not to sound too concerned. “No,” Sam replied stubbornly “and laying back there isn’t going be make any difference. Just like I told you. ”
“Well, then, tell me about that cowboy,” Hap teased “Jerrod. Was that his name?”
Sam glared at him feeling he was asking way too many questions. “Jerrod Bently,” she replied “Why do you ask?”
Hap grinned, “Thought he might be your sweetheart or something.”, he said .
“No,” she lied “We were working together on the drive. That is all.”
“He killed a man over you,” Hap stated “I’d say he’s more than just a drover.”
“Shut up , Hap,” she warned “Jerrod Bently is none of your concern.” Now the young deputy was sorry. He had upset her, and that would not set well once Doc got back. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he apologized “I should not tease you. Don’t know you well enough for that. “ He was quiet now as he drove the team along, while she fumed at his remark. Sam did not want to talk about Jerrod, because it hurt too much. She never wanted to be with any man before like she wanted to be with him, heck, she’d never been with a man in her life. All she felt was confused.
“I have a sweetheart,” Hap volunteered “Back in Portersville. Her Pa doesn’t like me. He thinks I am a weary willy, but I ain’t. One day I am going to prove to him that he’s got me all wrong and then I am going to marry that little gal.”
“What’s her name?”, Sam asked.
A bright smile lit the young man’s handsome face. “Susanna Faye Titus.”
“Doc’s friend Jake’s daughter?”
Hap grinned slyly, “Yes indeed, ” he said “and the future Mrs. Haplen B. Johansen the third.”
Sam was watching the horizon ahead of them, while Hap chattered on about Suzy Titus and his plans for the future. Her senses were telling her something. “Shhh,” she hissed as she put her hand on Hap’s arm. “Do you hear that?”
Hap listened carefully hearing only the sounds of the prairie around them. “What am I listening for?” he asked.
“That.” Sam insisted “Can’t you hear that sound?”
“It’s just thunder, Miss Sam,” Hap replied “Probably storming somewhere.”
“ Thunder doesn’t shake the ground,” she said . Suddenly she was on her feet, standing in the front of the buckboard shading her eyes against the hot afternoon sun. “Buffalo,” she said “I don’t see the dust yet, but we better get out of here.” Moving as she had caused her injured ankle and knee to send sharp waves of pain up her leg, and she fell back to the seat of the wagon. Hap caught her and steadied her. “You all right there, Sam,” he asked worriedly. She nodded and gripped the metal hand rail as the side of the seat.
“Then hang on,” Hap said “Will that stud run with us?”
“You bet he will,’ She said as she handed Hap her knife. “Cut him loose.”
“What?”
“Do it,” Sam ordered . Hap handed the reins of the team over to Sam, she gripped them in her right hand, as Hap scrambled to the back of the wagon and sliced though the stud’s lead rope. By now Trouble sensed the danger and began to snort, nostrils flaring. Sam shouted something to him in the Blackfoot language as Hap returned to his seat and took the reins and turned the buckboard around . The stud reared up and took flight in the very same direction Hap was heading the wagon. There was no dust cloud, but the ground trembled and the sound of thundering hooves grew louder and they fled. Trouble, ran full out, first beside the wagon and then in front of the team. “What is he doing?”, Hap shouted to Sam as they flew over the prairie.
“Follow him,” Sam yelled back. A huge light brow dust cloud appeared on the horizon behind them. A giant herd of buffalo bore down on them from out of the South. Where was Doc? Had he seen them? “Put you hand on us all, Lord,” she prayed silently. There was nothing more dangerous than a stampede and their only hope was to get out of the way and into some kind of shelter. Trouble changed direction and suddenly there appeared behind a stand of trees, the opening to a hidden canyon of sorts. Without hesitation, Trouble ran through the opening the lathered team and the buckboard close behind him. “Where’s Doc?!’ Sam cried “Oh God!!” The ground was shaking now, and the dust cloud was thick and nearly on them. The thunder of many heavy hooves was deafening. They could hear the war cries of the braves driving the herd on. It was a frightening sound.
The pain in her head excruciating, but before Sam could say any thing about it, a black streak passed her as she sat there on the wagon seat. White lather was all over Smokey Joe as he skidded to a halt. He was heaving with exertion, but he and Doc had escaped the stampeding herd of buffalo. The roar filled the canyon as the stampede rushed by. “Apache,” Doc shouted to Sam and Hap. “Hunting party.” Safely in the shelter of the rocks around them, they watched the awesome sight as hundreds of shaggy brown bison, rushed passed just beyond the trees. Beside them and behind then were the Apache warriors, mounted on fast horses. They were colorful in their deer skins and beads, brandished their weapons. They were hunting for the best kill just as they had for thousands of years.
“Take a good look, “ Doc said sadly “And remember it, because one day the buffalo will all be gone.”
“And the Apache too,” Sam thought sadly as they watched from the safety of their cover. “Siksika”, she whispered to herself “I never will forget, Grandfather.” The thunder of the buffalo and the cries of the hunters faded into the distance but the dust still hung thick in the air. Doc looked around himself. “It’s pretty late in the day,” he said “This place is good as any to spend the night.” He looked at Sam, seeing the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her bruises had begun to fade, but she looked very tired. “You need to rest Sam?” he said. She watched Doc catch Trouble and tether him to the back of the wagon. “I am all right, Uncle Elliot,” she said “Just tired and stiff.”
“Ain’t no wonder,” Doc replied as he stood beside the front wheel of the buckboard. “I figure we ought to make Portersville sometime tomorrow or the next day if the weather holds,” he said “Now I want you to lay down. You are not ready to get back in the saddle yet.”
“I know,” she answered “But I don’t have to like it.”


Portersville, The Oklahoma Territory

Jake Titus must have stared at the envelope in his hands for a good ten minutes. That was what he was doing when Old Pede walked in through the front door of the Sherif’s Office. “Mister Jake?” the old man said in surprise “I thought you was out at the Double J or over at the court house.” Jake looked up “Stevens is still out of town,”he said “I just came by to check on our prisoner and to look through the mail. Say, Pede? It still stinks in here from that pole cat.”
“Sure does,” Pede replied “But you git me some coal oil and some whiskey and I kin git rid of it for you.”
“Stevens is a marksmen,” Jake declared as a grin on his face “He can knock the eye out of a snake at three hundred yards, and his first day on the job, he draws out on a pole cat.”
“I told you, Mr. Jake,” Pede said “Don’t never shoot a polecat, cause the stink stays around forever.”
“Sure does,” Ned Travis agreed from his cell “Hey Titus. You seen my brother around?”
“No,” Jake replied “I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”
“Ain’t you ever going to git that judge back here and get me out of this stinking jail.”, the outlaw complained.”
“You keep talking, Ned and you just might get another thirty days in there,” Jake threatened “Now shut up and read the good book Mrs. Johansen brought you.”
“You mean this here bible?”
“The very one,” Jake replied in annoyance.
“I’d love to do that, Titus,” Ned replied “It would be something to pass the time, but I can’t read. Never learned. “
Jake grinned at Old Pede. “Pede’s got nothing to do. May be he’ll read you a few verses,” he said as he rose from his chair and reached for his hat. “Got something to see to,” he added “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Jake retrieved his hat from the hat rack behind the desk and placed it squarely on his head. That letter he’d received seemed to burn in his fingers as he held it. “Where you off to Mister Jake”, Pede inquired as he was preparing to read to Ned.
“May be back East,” Jake muttered as he pulled open the door and stepped outside.
Jake Titus was a steady handed gunman, an upright pillar of the community, there wasn’t much that scared him, but his hands shook as he tore open that envelope and pulled out the folded piece of stationary from within. He started to read as he headed up the boardwalk toward Victoria’s Bake Shop. He was still reading as several people pushed by, greeting him, but Jake was to busy with what he was reading in that letter to hear them. As he reached the bakery, a grin crept across his face. “Praise God,” he said to himself, then looked around for is wife. Wasn’t she supposed to meet him here? “Well, J.W.” he said to himself “Looks like you’re going to be seeing New York City sooner than I’d promised you would.” He pushed open the door, expecting to find Victoria Stevens behind her counter or hear her out in the kitchen. Instead, there was his daughter Suzy, standing in Victoria’s place. “Susanna Faye?”, he questioned “What are you doing here?”
“I’m minding the shop for Miss Victoria,” she replied “Doc is coming in and she went home to get ready for him.”
“Where is your mother?”, Jake asked.
“She went over to Victoria’s to help her. Doc is bringing his niece here, she’s the one who got hurt,” the sixteen year old replied. “Daddy?”
“Yes Suzy,” Jake said.
“Miss Victoria said I was to give you a peach pie.”
Now that was an offer Jake Titus couldn’t pass up, considering that the one J. W tried to bake last week turned out so badly that even his old hound dog wouldn’t go near it. The truth was, Jake loved peach pie and he would graciously accept Victoria’s generosity.
“Well, Honey,” he said “That was mighty nice of Miss Victoria. What is the occasion?”
“She heard about Ma’s pie and felt sorry for you,” the girl replied.
“You be sure to bring it with you when you come home , Daughter,” Jake instructed, “I rode Molly into town today and I don’t want anything to happen to that pie.” The young girl smiled at her father. “I will be very careful, Daddy,” she promised.

++++++++++++++++++++++

The day was overcast, and looked like rain would pour down at any moment. Doc rode beside the buckboard as Hap drove on. Sam was asleep in the back of the wagon and for that Doc was grateful. He would have Doctor O’Brien look at her as soon as they got home. It had been a very long ride, and home had been on his mind for days. It could have been a soddy on the prairie, or a cave in some hillside, but as long as Victoria was there, it was home. He thought of Scrub Pot and Jerrod. By now, they would probably be well into Kansas with the herd and in a matter of weeks would be coming back to Portersville.
Exhausted and worn out from days on the trail, Doc’s eyes filled with tears as he saw the town in the distance. Victoria was waiting there for him and Sam would be safe. Never had he known such a great relief. Smokey Joe seemed to sense that he was close to home, snorted and began to prance around. He wanted the comfort of his stall and the company of that cute little brown and white mare. “Settle down,” Doc ordered as he tightened his reins. “We got to take this slow.” Hap had all but fallen asleep with the reins of the team in his hands. But he too seemed to sense that he was almost home. The young deputy’s back suddenly straightened and he looked at the horizon. “We made it Doc!,” he declared proudly.
“We sure did, Hap,” Doc replied, in grateful relief . “We sure did.”

Victoria head them coming and stepped out on her front porch. She was light on her feet as she flew down the steps and ran to Doc as he slid from his saddle and caught her in his arms. No words, just a loving greeting between a wife and her husband. The buckboard came to a stop and Hap , sporting a beard he did not have before they left, smiled . “Howdy, Miss Victoria,” he whispered. “Sam’s sleeping.”
“ I will get her inside,” Doc said to is wife “and you go get Doc O’Brien.”
“I have the back bedroom all ready for her,” Victoria replied “Is she going to be all right?”
“Yes,” Doc replied “But it’s going to take time.” Trouble began to nicker, not liking the idea of being separated from Sam. Victoria looked at him. He seemed to tower over the back of the wagon, his black velvet nose flaring as he took in the scents around him. “Hap,” Doc instructed “Take that stud around back to the barn. His mare out there and I don’t want him tearing the back out of this wagon to get to her.” Hap looked a little shocked by Doc’s request, but Doc already had gathered Sam into his arms and carefully carried her from the wagon up the steps and into the house. Hap Johansen III had handled horses all his life and Trouble merely followed as he led him to the paddock. Desert Rose was there and she totally ignored the big horse’s mutters and studly growls as though she was angry with him.
Sam did not wake up as her uncle carried her down the hall and settled her in her room. She muttered something as he lay her down on the bed, being ever so careful not to jar her broken arm. “It’s all right now, honey girl,” he told her “We are home.” For a moment Doc stood there by the bed, looking down at her , grateful they’d made it back to Portersville alive. He was exhausted, his nerves stretched to the limit, but he knew that this was not over yet. Jeb Vickers would surface sooner or later and he hoped that it would be in his jurisdiction. “Jerrod,” she muttered in her sleep.
“He’s fine, baby girl,” Doc said quietly “Go back to sleep.” Victoria met her husband in the hall as he pulled the door of the bedroom closed. “Dr O’Brien is coming,” she said “He said about a half an hour.” Doc took her in his arms and just held her, kissing her gently on the forehead and whispering a prayer of thanks. “I love you.”, he breathed against her cheek “No woman, past or present could mean so much to me as you do, Victoria Stevens.” Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Oh Doc,” she whispered back “I missed you so much.”
“Me too,” he replied “I am about dead on my feet Vic, and I am starving to death before your very eyes.”
She smiled up at him. “There is hot water in the tub in the back room.”, she said “ I was filling it for myself just as you and Hap pulled in. You go get cleaned up. I will make you some thing to eat and then you need to rest.”
“Do I have to do that by myself?,” he grinned suggestively. She giggled “Go wash the trail dirt off, “ she said “And I will wait for Dr. O’Brien.”

It seemed like it took hours for the town doctor, James O’Brien to arrive. Doc, bathed, dressed, and his beard neatly trimmed was waiting for him at the kitchen table. He was just finishing his bacon, eggs, and biscuits with strawberry preserves when he and Victoria heard the knock at the door. Victoria rose to let the tall thin man in. “Thanks for coming,” she said as she offered him a place at the table across from her husband. “Would you like some coffee, Jim?”, she asked. The kindly looking doctor smiled appreciatively “Thank you, Victoria,” he said , his Irish brogue very evident in his words “Don’t mind if I do.” She went to the stove and picked up her metal coffee pot with a thick pot holder around it’s metal handle. She poured a second cup for her husband and one for the doctor. Then sat down with them. “It is your niece who has been injured?”, O’Brien asked.
“Yes,” Doc replied “She fell off a ledge and into a ravine about ten days ago. She was unconscious for at least four days after the accident happened. Her left arm is broke in two places and her right ankle, well, it might be broke for all I know, it looks bad and her right knee is sprained badly.”
“Was anyone able to set or at least, splint, the broken arm?”, the doctor asked worriedly. “Yes,” Doc replied, “Her grandfather did it. We were very careful bringing her here. Her broken arm will heal in time and so will her leg, but what scares me to death is the fact that she suffered a heavy blow to the head in that fall. I’ve seen men drop dead weeks after taking a blow like Sam took.”
The doctor was quiet , considering all that Doc had told him. “Does she seem to have any memory loss?” he asked. “Or vision trouble.”
“No,” Doc replied “Least ways not that I could tell. She is stubborn,” he added “and that may be what gets her through this.”
“Indeed it might,” O’Brien answered “Now, may I see her?”
“Of course,” Victoria said “This way. She showed him to the hallway and the door of Sam’s room. “If you need anything, Jim,” she said “Just let me know. I will be in the kitchen trying to convince my husband to go get some sleep.” The doctor smiled “He looks like he could use it,” he said as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Slowly sleep began to fade into a gentle awakening. Sam stirred. She recalled the jolting and lurching of the wagon, the pain in her arm and everywhere else but falling asleep despite it all. She felt comfortably warm and the smell of fresh linens and wild flowers teased her senses. She opened her eyes finding herself in a sunlit bedroom, with a fresh morning breeze flowing through the open window across the room. She was lying in a comfortable bed under a colorful hand sewn quilt. Her arm ached and throbbed but some how it was not as much discomfort as it had been on the trail. Turning her head, she looked down at it to find the short flat boards that Scrub Pot had used to splint her broken bones gone. Instead her arm was wrapped tightly in white gauze around a well fitted wooden splint and lying in a sling hung around her neck. She tried to move her fingers, and found that this time she could move them a little. She heard someone outside the closed door of her room. Slowly it opened and Victoria Stevens stepped into the room. She was carrying a breakfast tray and her warm smile was welcoming. Sam thought she was seeing an angel standing by her bed holding a tray with both hands. For a moment, Sam tried to recall her mother’s face, but it was too long ago. She was a baby when Sarah Dodge died and she could only image what she looked like from the things Doc and Scrub Pot had told her.
“Good morning, Sam,” Victoria said with cheerful tone in her voice. “How did you sleep?” She set the tray down on the night stand next to the bed.
“Very well,” Sam replied, still waking up from a very long rest. “It is nice to sleep in a bed.”
Victoria sat down in the chair opposite her. “I am glad,” she said “I thought you might be hungry,” she added. Sam Dodge studied Victoria’s face intently. The woman’s brown eyes were warm and friendly, her smile seemed radiant and reassuring and her hair, so beautifully golden. So unlike Sam’s dark auburn. “How are you feeling?”, Victoria asked, bridging the gap in their conversation.
“Better, I think,” Sam replied “What happened to the splints that were on my arm?”
“You don’t remember?” Victoria questioned, trying not to sound worried.
“No,” Sam answered “I remember Uncle Elliot carrying me up the steps, but not much after that.”
“Doctor O’Brien took the splints off, “ Victoria said ,“He was here to see you yesterday. He told us that he did not have to reset your arm, and that it is healing very well.”
“I thought I was dreaming,” Sam said “Some one was pulling on me. It must have been him.”
Victoria laughed “You were very tired to sleep though all of that.”
“Must have been,” Sam replied as she sniffed the delicious aroma of the biscuits and coffee Victoria had brought.
“The doctor told your uncle and me that who ever set your arm did a fine job,” Victoria said “ because of that, he expects it to heal quickly and be as good as new.”
“It was my Grandfather,” Sam replied “He’s Blackfoot.” She had hoped to shock her new Aunt with such a declaration.
“I know,” Victoria replied confidently “He is a fine man. He officiated at our wedding.”
“He did two weddings that day,” Sam answered “our old trail boss and a Pawnee squaw called Bird That Talks and then, you and Uncle Elliott. I couldn’t come because he needed my horse to get back to town for the wedding.”
Victoria looked down at the plain gold wedding ring on her finger. “He told me that you sent your mother’s ring with him so I would have a wedding band to wear. “ she said “I never got to say thank you for such a special gift.”
“I was glad to give it, Miss Victoria,” she answered .
“Are you hungry?”, Victoria asked.
“Yes,” Sam replied as she looked at the tray on the table. “Did you make all of this for me?”
“Yes, dear., “ Victoria replied “I did, for you and your uncle.”
“Doc says you are a far better cook than my Grandfather is,” Sam said as she buttered a steaming biscuit. “Where is Doc?”
“He’s sleeping right now,” Victoria replied “He was exhausted. I sent Hap home to his mother and your horse is out in the paddock with Desert Rose. He is so beautiful and Rose has been no trouble to look after.”
“Where did you put Joe?,” Sam asked as she set her breakfast plate in front of her on top of the covers. “He and Trouble can’t be together unless you want your barn flattened.”
“Doc took the black over to Jake Titus’s ranch and turned him out with two of Jake’s mares.”, Victoria replied. “Don’t worry, Sam. Everything is going to be fine. You will see.”
Victoria rose and poured some coffee for Sam as with her arm in a sling Sam was at a disadvantage. “There,” she said as she handed her the cup. “My customers love that blend. I hope you like it too.”
“Miss Victoria,” Sam declared “After nearly three months of my Grandfather’s coffee, a cup of wash water would be a blessing, so this will be a special treat..”
Victoria smiled at her. “I think we are going to get along just fine, Sam,” she said “I am staying home today instead of going to the shop. Dr O’Brien gave me some pain medicine for you and said that you should not get up unless you have to. “
”I will try to not be too much of a bother, Miss Victoria,” the girl replied.
“You are no bother, Sam,” Victoria said reassuringly “If you need anything, I will be out in the barn feeding the horses.” Sam threw off her covers and moved to the edge if her bed. “I am going with you,” she said.
“Sam.,” Victoria advised strongly “ I don’ think that is a good idea. As soon as her bare feet hit the floor, excruciating pain shot up her right leg from her swollen , bruised ankle to her equally darkened knee. She fell back to the edge of the bed. “Think you are right,” Sam replied “It hurts pretty bad.” A moment later, Victoria had her patient back in bed, her injured leg propped up on pillows and the promise of ice from the ice house out back. She replenished Sam’s breakfast plate. “There is one small thing you could do for me , Sam,” she said.
Sam looked up at her. She was so young, just barely a woman grown and in her heart, Victoria said a silent prayer, that maybe J.W. had been right, and she might be carrying a baby, maybe a little girl, a daughter for her and Doc. “You might call me Aunt Victoria,” she said “Miss Victoria is a bit formal for family, don’t you think?” Sam smiled back at her “I have only Doc and my Grandfather as family,” she said “I do have a brother and an aunt back East, but when I think of family, it is always been Doc and Grandfather. I’m glad that you are here too.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Victoria said. “I will be back in a little while.”
“Thanks for everything, Aunt Victoria,” she said “The biscuits are so good..”
“Rest, Sam,” Victoria said as she crossed to the door of her room, “I am glad you like them.”
A moment later she was gone, the door closed again. Sam lay back on her pillows, thinking that Victoria Stevens was one of the most beautiful white women she had ever seen and she wondered what Jerrod might think if he saw her dressed up like her new Aunt had been, and her long hair fixed in that same flattering style as Victoria wore. Then she realized, she knew nothing of these things.

+++++++++++

Several weeks had come and gone since Sam arrived in Portersville and she was not a young woman who could be confined for long. Despite the advice of her aunt, her uncle and Dr. O’Brien, she wanted to be outside in the fresh air and sunlight. She could not live her life the way she normally would, because of the dizzy spells and headaches she had been experiencing since the accident. It had been such a spell that over came her one day, when she walked out to the paddock to see her horses. It had been a very good thing that Doc was in the barn when she collapsed beside the fence. Doc Stevens threw down his pitchfork and ran to Sam. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house.
Grimly he sat at the kitchen table with his wife, waiting for the doctor to come out of Sam’s room. “I tell you, Vic,” he said “She is not ready to be out of this house alone. It scared me to death when I saw her fall out there by the paddock. What if she’d tried to get on that stud? Ah, hell, I don’t even want to think about what might have happened. “
“Doc,” Victoria defended “She wants to be out side and with the horses. It is what she is used to.”
“And what if she takes one of those dizzy spells she’s been having and falls again, maybe striking her head,. “ he argued “It might kill her.”
“Give the girl some credit,” Victoria replied “She knows that she is not well yet. She can even tell me now when she thinks one of those spells might be starting up. Doc O’Brien says that it will go away in time. You have to stop fussing over her and worrying like you have been.”
“Alright.” he said “I will build a bunk out there in the barn, where she can go lay down if she has to, but we both have to watch her or she will be on that stud way before she is ready.”
“Oh Doc,” his wife said “Sam knows she can’t do that. You can’t think for her, Love. She is not a baby.”
“She will always be a baby to me,” he said “Sarah and Joe’s baby.”
Victoria thought of the secret she was keeping, but the time to tell Doc that he was going to be a father was not right yet. “I think that having a place where she can go to be alone and with her horses is a good idea,” Victoria said “Will you build that bunk today if you can?” Doc nodded his answer and rose to his feet as Dr. O’Brien walked into the kitchen.
“She’s had a minor set back,” he said “Taking on too much too quickly.”
“I knew it.,” Doc replied worriedly “ that girl is stubborn and .....” His wife cut him off. “Doc,” she said, “We both have been very worried about her. Let’s hear what the doctor has to say.” Doc bit back his worries and silent fears. “All right,” he agreed as he motioned the doctor to sit down at the table.
“Sam has had a serious head injury.,” Dr. O’Brien said “It is like a bruise on her brain and it is going to take time for it to heal. She must rest and not be trying to resume the life she led before the accident. She will have to take it easy for a few more weeks, and I am confident that the dizzy spells will go away. But don’t try to keep her confined. She is the kind who will fight to get away and then she will hurt herself.”
“Always was like that,” Doc said quietly “but you say she’s healing well?”
“Yes,” the doctor answered “I have seen a lot of improvement since she got here. Just watch her and make sure she does not over do.”
”All right , Jim,” Victoria said “We will look after her. “
”She is in good hands,” O’Brien replied “She knows that and is very grateful. Now, she is pretty worried about you two. So go on in and talk to her. I will let myself out.”
“Thank you,” Victoria said as they rose to leave the table “I hope we didn’t upset your day too badly.”
“You didn’t,” the doctor replied with a grin. “I was on my way out to the Cranston place to see Mrs. Cranston. She’s going to have that baby any day now.”
Victoria smiled “Please give Nancy and her husband our best wishes.”
“I will,” O’Brien said and at that he left. May be the next baby to be born in
Portersville just might be Doc and Victoria’s.


Sam was in her room, gazing thoughtfully into the mirror on her dresser. She pulled her long hair back and tried fixing it the way Victoria had her’s done. She just didn’t know where to begin and not having the use of both hands, didn’t help. It had been a pretty good day, she had not had any dizzy spells at all, and she had been out in the barn for a while, even brushed Trouble and Rose. Victoria tapped on her door. “Sam? May I come in?”
She abandoned her attempts to style her hair. “Please do.,” she replied.
Victoria walked in and noticed her standing in front of the mirror. Sam turned and carefully studied her aunt’s gracefully styled golden hair. “How do you do that?”, she asked.
“Do what?”, Victoria asked .
“Put your hair up on your head like you do.”, Sam replied “I like the way it looks but I do not know how to do it.” Victoria smiled at her. “Well, Honey,” she said “I think I can help you.” She took the brush from Sam and motioned for her to sit down in the chair next to her bed. “It just takes practice, “ Victoria added as she began to brush out Sam’s long shining locks. “You have beautiful hair,” she said.
“No one ever taught me what to do,” Sam said “The women in our village showed me how to braid my hair like they did.
“I will show you a different way to fix your hair, Sam,” Victoria replied “And may be you can show me how the Blackfoot women braid their hair with all those lovely beads and feathers.”
“I can show you,” Sam answered as Victoria continued to brush.
They were quiet for a few moments before she spoke again. “I try very hard sometimes to remember what my mother looked like,” she said “All I can recall is that she had long gold hair like yours. Grandfather and Doc told me about her, what she was like and what she looked like, but it’s not like being able to see her face in my memories. I was very young when she died.”
“I am sorry,” Victoria replied as she began to pull Sam’s long dark hair into an elegant looking French twist. “I am sure that she must have loved you very much.”
“Somehow I know that,” Sam replied “But I don’t know how that can be, when I can not even recall her face.”
“You were just a baby when she died, Sam,” Victoria replied as she reached for the hair pins Sam had left on her dresser. “What you remember are feelings of having your mother. Even though you can not remember her face.
“Uncle Elliot said she was very pretty,” Sam said quietly.
Victoria smiled as she finished pinning Sam’s new hair style in place. “From the look of you, Sam, I am sure that she was,” Victoria replied “Now stand up and look in the mirror at yourself.”
Cautiously Sam got up from the chair and returned to the mirror. An elegant looking dark eyed stranger stared back at her. With her good hand she touched the soft contours of her hair. She was amazed at what she saw. She was beautiful, her sun tanned face accented by her natural beauty and new look. “Is it me?”, she questioned.
Victoria smiled. “It sure is,” she said “And you look so pretty with your hair up. Now, wait right there, Sam,” she added, “I want you to try something on.” Sam looked down at the long Indian skirt she wore and then back at Victoria. “Well, we both look about the same size,” she commented,” What did you have in mind? “
“ I think I have something that will be perfect for you.”, Victoria said. As Victoria left the room, Sam thought back to her days in Philadelphia and her over bearing aunt saying the same thing and the result had not been a good one. Sam was not a girl who cared about “the latest fashions for ladies”, she liked her wrangler’s clothes and her hat. She was a cowgirl and that was how she liked it.
Victoria went through her closet, finding a pair of black gauchos and a white linen blouse. She held them up and smiled. “Perfect.,’ she said to herself, and then went to her jewelry box for a few accessories. She chose a black silk bolo tie with a silver and turquoise slide from her jewelry case and on her way back to Sam’s room, grabbed her extra pair of riding boots. That was how she saw Sam Dodge. A young woman of simple elegance. When she walked back into the room with the clothes draped over her arm and the boots in her hand, Sam gave her a doubtful look. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about dressing up,” she confessed “Aunt Lillie used to buy me all these silly looking dresses and to be honest with you, I hated them.”
“Maybe she didn’t think about basic things, like black and white,” Victoria replied as she showed Sam what she had brought. “Would you like to try these on and see how you look in gauchos?”
“All right.,” Sam agreed as she accepted the clothes. Victoria helped her get out of her sling and the clothes she had been wearing and into what turned out to be a wonderful new look for her. Sam slid her small feet into the tall boots and looked at her reflection. She’d never really thought about how she looked before, but now she was very pleased. “I like it, “ she said “I could ride in this.”
“I do,” Victoria replied as she went to her and put the bolo tie around her neck for a finishing touch. “You have made me look so different,” Sam marveled as she stared at her reflection “How did you do it?”
“You did it Sam,” Victoria replied “You are just beautiful!”
“Jerrod said that,” she said quietly.
“That is because you are,” Victoria replied.
“Do you think he would like my hair up like this?”, she asked shyly.
“I think he would love it, honey,” Victoria replied. “Would you like to show your uncle?”
“Show me what?” And there he was standing at the open door of Sam’s room. His arms crossed and a cockeyed grin on his face. Doc had come in from the barn. When he saw Sam standing in front of the mirror, he stopped short. “Sam?,” he said “Is that you?”
She blushed “Yes,” she replied. “Victoria fixed my hair.”
Victoria was adjusting Sam’s sling so her healing arm was again supported . “Doesn’t she look wonderful.”
“She sure does,” Doc replied “Poor Jerrod is going to lose his mind when he sees you like that , honey girl.”
Sam giggled. “Jerrod wouldn’t know me dressed like this,” she replied.
“Any man would be proud to be seen with you on his arm. Especially, Jerrod Bently.”, Doc said.
Sam smiled. “Thanks , both of you,” she said as she turned back to the looking glass, intrigued by the reflection it returned..

++++++++++++++++

Sam was happy staying with Doc and Victoria. She had gotten used to living in the small town of Portersville and most of all, she enjoyed having Trouble and Desert Rose in the back paddock where she could visit them anytime she wished. But there was such an empty place in her life when she thought of her Grandfather and Jerrod. She missed them and wanted to be with them, to finish the job she had started, but that was not possible. She was still recovering from the accident that had nearly taken her life.
Sam was learning many new things from her Aunt , like cooking on an iron stove instead of over an open fire. She had not done so well at first, and Doc told Pede and Hap Jr., he could have built a bridge over Buzzard Creek with her biscuits, and singled his roof with her salted ham. Pede laughed “The poor young feller what wants to marry her will stave to death waitin’ for her to learn to cook.” They all had laughed. “Well,” Doc agreed, “It might run in the family. Her grandfather is about the worst cook I have ever known.”
However, there was hope, Sam. She had Victoria Stevens to teach her. After a while, she got the hang of it all and was doing much better with her cooking skills.

One morning Sam felt so confident after making breakfast for Doc before he went to work, that she decided she’d go to the bakery with Victoria and help her. Returning from the privy, feeling a bit green, Victoria met her in the kitchen. She was washing up the dishes and humming to herself. “Did Doc leave already?”, Victoria asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down. The sight of the coffee in the cup she had left made her feel sick all over again, but it passed.
“Yes,” Sam answered “He left just a few minutes ago. You want me to go after him?”
“No,” Victoria replied “He’ll be over at the shop by twelve today.”
“Can I go to the bakery with you?”, Sam asked as she hung up the dish towel and turned to look at her aunt. “Jumpin’ rattle snakes, Victoria?” she declared in surprise as she beheld the look on her aunt’s face, “You look awful! What is the matter?”
Victoria managed a smile. “Sit down, Sammy,” she said “There is something I want to share with you.” Sam was very worried when she seated herself opposite her aunt at the table. She reached out and took hold of Victoria’s hands. Victoria smiled at her. “It’s all right, Sam,” she said quietly “I do feel awful and I have been sick just about every morning for the past few weeks.”
“You want me to go get Dr. O’Brien for you?” Sam asked, now more than a little concerned. Victoria saw the fear in her dark eyes, and sensed that she was thinking about the loss of her mother. “Sam,” she said “I think I am going to have a baby. That is why I have been sick and out of sorts these past few days.”
Sam looked back at her, studying her face. Then she smiled “Does Doc know?”
“Not yet,” Victoria replied “And I am not really sure yet myself, so we have to keep this a secret until I know that I am carrying your uncle’s baby.”
Sam uttered a sigh of relief, “You had me worried for a minute,” she said. “I am so happy for you and Doc,” she added. “And I will have a new cousin one day in the not to distant future.”
“Let’s see,” Victoria mused, “You are Doc’s niece.. So this baby would be your first cousin.”
“I don’t have any cousins,” Sam said quietly “Just my brother, Brian.”
“How long as it been since you have seen him?”, Victoria asked.
“About five years,” Sam replied “He’s in Philadelphia with my Aunt Lillie.”
“Doc’s sister?”, Victoria inquired. “What is she like?”
“Believe me,” Sam said firmly “You don’t want to know.”
“I imagine you and her did not see eye to eye,” Victoria commented.
“Not at all,” Sam replied in distaste “I was glad to get home to Texas. I don’t like city life.”
Victoria, feeling somewhat better now, rose from her chair. “Come to the shop with me for a little while?” she said. “But if you get tired, you must tell me and I will have Doc or Hap bring you home.”
“Are you going to make those cinnamon cookies today?”, Sam asked.
“Yes, I am,” Victoria replied as she reached for her shawl. “Go check on the horses, Sammy and I will meet you out front.” She paused, her hand on the back of her chair. “Remember,” she said firmly “, not a word to Doc or anyone about the baby.”
“Sam grinned “I won’t say a thing,” she promised. “Imagine that,” she commented as she headed for the back door, “a cousin. Maybe she’ll be like a little sister.”
“And if it is a boy?” Victoria called after her.
“Doc will teach him the cross draw and I’ll teach him to ride.” Sam called back.
“And I will teach him to cook!” Both women laughed as they went about their chores before heading to the bakery.


++++++++++++++


For a young woman with the energy, drive and determination Sam Dodge had, it had been hard for her to stay quiet and rest. She longed to feel her horse under her again and to dash across the open fields outside Portersville, but she had to be patient. She missed the freedom of the open range, her Grandfather and the drovers she had come to know as friends, but most of all she missed Jerrod Bently. In all of her young life, the people she had loved and counted on had left her. Her parents, her grandmother and one day it would be her Grandfather too, but Jerrod was special and though she would not admit it to anyone, Sam was hoping the spend the rest of her life with him.
The front porch of Victoria and Doc’s cottage was a pleasant place to sit in the mornings with bright warm sunshine and the baskets of flowering plants Victoria had left there all summer. There were two old wooden rocking chairs on either side of the front door. This had become Sam’s favorite place to sit, either by herself, with her aunt or, young Hap Johansen and sweet heart, Suzy Titus.
She there in the sun, Jerrod’s last letter in her lap. She had read it countless times, and it only served to make her miss him all the more. The fact that there had been no more news was forcing her to believe in the words of Hap Johansen when he said “No news is good news.” She had come to know Hap and Suzy quite well during the weeks of her recovery and she liked them both. But their company did not ease the loneliness she felt with Jerrod gone. Everyday she prayed for her Grandfather and her young man to be safe as they moved on to finish the cattle drive. She sometimes thought she would give anything to be with them when they rode into Abilene. As she sat in the rocking chair, she set aside the letter and picked up a basket of snap beans Doc had brought over from the Double J and sighed in frustration. Victoria Stevens stepped out the front door, a second basket in her hands. “What is it Sam?,” she asked.
“Nothing,” she answered as she rocked back in the chair and looked around herself. “I was thinking about the herd. Wondering how far along they are.”
“And missing your friends,” Victoria replied as she sat down in the empty rocker nest to Sam.
“I was so stupid, “ she said “I should never have stopped to let Trouble drink that day. I should have ridden back to camp like I was supposed to and then....”
Victoria cut her off. “Sam.” she said gently “There is no way to know what might have happened if you had taken a different route, or Jerrod had been farther away than he was. The accident was a bad one, you were hurt very seriously and a man died, but as hard as it may be for us to understand at times, it all is part of God’s plan for our lives. “
”Grand father talks about these things,” she answered quietly “I just wish it had been different and I was able to finish what I started. “
“I find it amazing that you accomplished so much in such a short time.,” Victoria said “Most women would never have the where with all to do what you did Sam.”
“I wanted that ranch,” Sam replied “I paid half down and agreed to be head wrangler on the cattle drive for the rest of what Hinkley wanted. I was glad to do that, but I never thought I’d end up having to be trail boss as well.”
“Doc was very impressed,” Victoria said with a warm smile as she took a hand full of fresh snap beans out of her basket. “You never did tell me how you met your friend Jerrod.”
“He signed on as a drover,” she answered “I had to teach him to ride before we left Grants Creek. When I saw him for the first time out at The Flying S, when the drovers were signing up, I thought I had never seen a man so handsome as he was. “
”Sounds like you liked him right away,” Victoria stated as she began snapped the ends of the beans and dropped them into an empty reed basket next to her chair.
“I did,” Sam confessed “But I had to keep my cover. When I met Jerrod I had to dress and act like a boy to keep my job. “
”Did he figure it out?”, Victoria asked.
Sam laughed “Well,” she said “I think he suspected, but he never let on.”
“I know you miss him,” Victoria replied “But absence makes the heart grow fonder. I am sure that he misses you very much.”
Sam picked up a handful of the beans and looked at them, a hint of sadness showed on her face. “He saved my life, Aunt Victoria,” she said as tears rushed into her eyes. “And out there somewhere there is a man who wants to kill him because of what happened.” Suddenly Victoria’s arms were around her,“Shhh,” she said soothingly “God will keep your Jerrod safe from harm, Sam,’ she said comfortingly “and your uncle will do all that he can to protect everyone.”
“I know,” she sniffed a she snuggled against her shoulder “Aunt Victoria?”
“Yes, honey,” she replied.
“When you and Uncle Elliot have your baby. You are going to be such a wonderful parents,” Sam said quietly.
“Thank you, Sam,” Victoria said lightly “And remember. We must not say a word to Doc about this until I am sure that there is a baby on the way.”
++++++++++++++++++


In all my born days, I had never seen so much rain or mud as we saw in the state of Kansas. We pushed on passed the limits of exhaustion, moving ever Northward to our destination. Some days I felt like I’d see Abilene around the next bend in the trail and others, like it was no more than a myth like Eldorado. Scrub Pot told me I could use Sam’s bunk in the chuck wagon if I wanted to and with all the rain that seemed to keep falling both day and night, I welcomed a dry place to sleep. In a way, it made me feel closer to Sam, even though she was now many miles behind me, safe in Portersville. I wrote to her every night, telling her of our progress and adventures. I told her how much I missed her and how I was counting the days until I would see her again. I had at least twenty letters, may be more. Scrub Pot grunted when he saw them. “When we get back to Portersville, she will be too busy reading for you to court her, Jerrod Bently,” he said “You must send them from Abilene when we get there.” You will probably see her before your letters do,” the old man added.
I thought about it. Well, I’d kept a pretty good account of everything at least and decided I’d just give them to her when I saw her. Ah yes, Portersville, a bitter sweet place in the future. I wanted to be there more than any other place in to world, because Sam was there. I also knew that I had to turn myself in for killing Tom Dalton. Now Doc had assured me he felt everything would work out all right, and I had to have faith and believe him and hope that if the time came, American justice would prevail in my favor. Of course at this point I had no knowledge of what Jake Titus had discovered about Dalton and had I known, I would not have had a care in the world past moving those long horns across Kansas and getting back to Portersville and Sam. I missed her. I think everyone did. The boys admired her and everyone kind of looked after her with me, but now days, with her gone Ely seemed to keep to himself more, only speaking to me when he had to. I knew why. He was not fooling anyone.
The rail head at Abilene was a good week to ten days ahead of us but with the bad weather, it was doubtful we’d make it in the time we’d hoped to. I sent Ely on ahead to send a telegraph to Roger Hinkly back in Grant’s Creek to tell him. I never mentioned Sam , only the business at hand. The sale of the cattle. I never forgot that even though Ned Travis was nothing but a bungling idiot, that he had been sent to kill Sam. I shudder to think of what might have happened if Hinkly had sent someone other than him. Ned Travis was in jail back in Portersville and we had to not let Hinkly know that we had uncovered his plans. Scrub Pot knew there would be trouble once we got back to Texas, but he did not seem all that concerned about it. The immediate concern was getting the job we’d been hired to do done. The rain finally let up and things began to dry out. The days passed, long, dusty and dry. We were heading into early Autumn and the stifling heat that hot Western summer began to give way to cooler days and even cooler nights. If the weather held for the next few days, we might be heading back to Portersville sooner that expected and that was what I was praying and working for.


A few nights before we reached Abilene, Scrub Pot and I sat together by his fire. The evening meal was long over with and the night crew had ridden out and the rest of the crew had long since bedded down. It was just him and me.
“She has been my life,” he said “When I began to feel old, she made me feel young again. I held her hands when she took her first steps and even then I dreaded the day you would come.”
I was taken by surprise at his words.”I thought you were in favor of me courting Sam.,” I replied defensively.
“I am,” Scrub Pot answered, “and you misunderstand.. I dreaded your coming because you are the man who will take her away from me. I knew it would be you from the very beginning. All I ask, Jerrod Bently, is that you be good to my granddaughter and treat her well.”
“I would never hurt Sam, or let anyone else hurt her,” I assured him “I love her and I think I have felt that way since I first got to know her.”
The old man snickered “She fooled you in the beginning,” he said “She was so afraid you would find out her secret before she was ready to tell you who she really was.”
Now that I thought about it, Sam had made a pretty poor excuse for a boy. She was just too pretty, even with that hat pulled down over her eyes. “I suspected,” I replied. Scrub Pot laughed and somewhere in the distance, we heard the coyotes howl. “You know she has never had a mother to teach her how to be a woman,” Scrub Pot said “She has good manners, but there are things that she missed because her mother died when she was so young.”
“I love Sam just the way she is, Scrub Pot,” I replied “It does not matter. She is a wrangler, a great horsewoman and she’ll be a good rancher too.
“She will be all that and a good wife too,” Scrub Pot said “But always remember, she is “Siksika” and she clings to the ways of my people in more ways than you know.”
That word took me back to one of the nights I sat with Sam after the accident. In her sleep, she has uttered that word more than once. “She was delirious,” I said quietly “after she took that fall. She kept saying that over and over.”
“It is native tongue for “Blackfoot” ,” the old man said “The proud name of our people.” I heard the horses on the picket line behind us moving around nervously and I reached for my gun, so did the old man. “Listen for my dog to growl,” he whispered “And when she does, we will know if we have company. There was a tense few minutes as the horses continued to move around , nickering but the big brown and white dog that lay under the wagon, did not move. Then, as though Diamond were waiting for the right moment, she uttered a deep snarl and jumped to her feet. She flew passed us like a streak of white against the dark and the fire light. A few seconds later she was barking fiercely a short distance away. With gun in hand, I got up from my place by the fire and followed the sound. Scrub Pot was right beside me, his shot gun at the ready. “Please,” a man’s voice called out in the darkness, “Call off your dog. I mean no harm.”
We found Diamond, her paws scratching at the trunk of a tree. She was jumping up, growling and barking. “I will come down if you call off the dog,” the voice said from somewhere above us.
“All right,” I said “But one false move and I will burn you down. Understand?, Scrub Pot aimed that shot gun up into the tree. “That makes two of us,” he said. Then he spoke to Diamond in his native language and the big dog went to his side and sat down. It was pretty dark , but the quarter moon was out and I could see a figure climbing down from the high branches and then dropped to the ground. “My name is Tuttle,” he said “Broke a wheel and had to leave my wagon about a mile back.” He was a small man, kind of scrawny. He looked harmless enough, but I could tell that Scrub Pot didn’t seem convinced. “Where did you come from?,” the old man growled.
“Just left Abilene,” the man said “I am a traveling salesman. Was headed down to Texas.”
I guess the old man finally figured Tuttle was harmless as we went back to camp. Tuttle was not a young man, dressed in a rather worn suit and bolo tie. He wore a dusty old top hat and reminded me of the feral people who lived in the underworld of New York City. He offered me chewing tobacco, but I declined. Scrub Pot however seemed delighted. We learned that the man was a seller of house hold items, brooms, pots, pans, all those kinds of things. Once he learned that Scrub Pot was the cook , he had a long list of pots he offered up for sale. The old man grunted and went to rummage through his gear in the back of the wagon. He came back with a large blackened kettle. “It has a hole in the bottom,” he said “Can you fix it?”
Tuttle took the pot from his calloused hands and looked at it very carefully. “It is worn through,” the peddler said “I can sell you a new one.”
“How about I fix your wagon wheel, and you give me a new pot,” Scrub Pot suggested. I shook my head and grinned , I had come to know Scrub Pot very well. In a little while, he got ready to leave with the peddler. “Give me your letters, Jerrod Bently,” he said “This man will take them to Portersville.” The chance for Sam to get all that I had written to her was too good a one to pass up. I believed that this man, Tuttle, a lowly peddler was an answer to my prayers. I got my stack of letters and gave them to Scrub Pot. When the old man returned hours later, I was asleep by the fire.
“It is done,” he said in the darkness. I woke with a start, grabbing my gun.
“Calm, my son ,” he said “Your letters to Sam are on the way.” He grinned proudly and showed me a shining new pot. “And that peddler is on his way too. Fixed his wheel well enough to get him as far as Portersville. ”
“How do you know he will go to Portersville and not cross into Texas somewhere else?”, I asked, with a yawn.
“Have faith, Jerrod Bently,” the old man replied with a sly grin. I told him about Portersville, and all those rancher’s wives and ladies. He’ll go to Portersville all right and he will see that Sam gets your letters too.”
”I don’t care if I hear back from her or not,” I said “I just want Sam to know I was thinking about her.”
Scrub Pot got his bed roll out of the back of the wagon. “She knows,” he said “just as you do.”
As he spread the blanket on the ground next to the dying fire, he told me of a shorter route to Abilene that the peddler had told him about.
“Have you been over it before?”, I asked “We want to go straight in. Not have to cross a lot of water or mountains. “
”Long ago, I hunted buffalo out here with my people, I remember the way,” he said. “I will ride out there in the morning and be back by night fall. If the pass I remember is not blocked, we can cut our time by at least two days.”
The old man had not been wrong very often, and I trusted him.

++++++++++++++++++++


Jeb Vickers was a hot head. He was young and way too fast with a gun. At the age of twenty one, he had already killed seven men in quite a few gun fights and had won himself a reputation. He and his cousin, Tom Dalton, who was now deceased, had been staying two steps ahead of the law after Dalton strangled a woman in Tennessee and Jeb shot her husband. The man had lived long enough to give a description of Dalton and the name of Vickers to the sherrif , but the two outlaws had gotten away. They’d come to the Oklahoma Territory to lay low where there were few lawmen and fewer laws. A rope waited for men like Jeb Vickers or the one man who was faster on the draw then he was. I had been too busy to worry about his threats or him trailing me, and I figured Doc had been right when he told me that Vickers was like a snake, and he would wait to strike. I had a feeling that it would all happen once we got back to Portersville. Doc Stevens probably expected it too.

Victoria heard a knock on the door and went to answer it. There stood Hap Johansen III with a hand ful of wild flowers. “Good morning, Missus Stevens,” he said “Is Sam receiving company today?”
Victoria smiled ,”We are in the kitchen,” she said “Won’t you come in, Hap.” Hap could smell the delicious aroma of bread baking. “Don’t mind if I do,” the boy said. “Just wanted to pay my respects and give Sam this here package that some peddler dropped off at the livery yesterday.”
Sam was sitting at the kitchen table kneading bread dough with her good hand . It was not easy, but she seemed to be enjoying it. She had flour all over the place, but she was determined to make a success of her project. “You have a visitor,” Victoria said as she went to the stove and opened the oven door to check on her baking loaves. Sam looked up and smiled. “Are those for me?” she asked seeing the prairie flowers in Hap’s hand.
“They are,” he said “How are you Sam? Are we going to ride this week?”
“No,” she answered as she tended to her work “But maybe in a little while. Right now I don’t think I could get on Trouble and stay there.”
Hap handed her the flowers “Guess we’ll take that ride next week.”, the young man teased.
“And maybe I will go along too,” Victoria chimed in as she pulled a pan of golden yeast rolls out of the oven.
“Ma says you ride better than any lady in Portersville, Ma’am”, Hap said. “Even J. W. Titus.”
Victoria grinned “, Thanks Hap,” she said. “Did you say you had something for Sam?”
“Yes, I do,” the young man replied “Some old tinker came by the livery to get a new wheel for his wagon and gave this to Pa.” He withdrew a stack of letters from his jacket pocket and set the neatly tied bundle on the table in front of Sam. “I bet they are from that sweet heart beau of yours,” Hap teased as Victoria put the flowers he’d brought in a glass vase.
Sam did not say anything. She got up from her chair, dusted off her hands, and picked up the letters. “Thank you,” she said. He saw the tears in her eyes as she turned away. “I am sorry,” he said “I didn’t mean to upset you, Sam.”
Sam Dodge was not a person who shed tears in front of anyone, even if they were tears of relief and quietly she went to her room.
Hap turned to Victoria. “I am sorry..” he said “Did I say something to make her cry?”
“No, Hap,” Victoria replied “ She is fine. She misses her Grandfather and all the excitement , but most of all she misses that boy and has been worried sick over him.”
“Those letters I brought her are from her beau.”Hap said , “ I remember his name. Jerrod Bently, and that was on the outside of them letters. That ought to cheer her up.”
“I am sure it will,” Victoria answered, “She needs to be alone, right now. Come, sit down here and try the bread.
“Don’t mind if I do, Miss Victoria,” Hap replied as he pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down.

Sam lay down on her bed, holding the treasure that Hap had brought to her. She could hardly believe it. She ran her fingers over the rough paper and pencil marks that formed her name and tried to imagine that she was touching his cheek. “Jerrod,” she said to herself. “You didn’t forget.” She opened the first letter and began to read. Sam laughed, and cried through Jerrod’s hand written account of his adventures and in the end, his words made her miss him even more. Victoria had told her that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but with that fondness came the pain of being apart and longing to be together again. Two halves of a whole, she was one and Jerrod was the other.


++++++++++++++++++++++


The door of his office was standing open that morning when Doc strolled down the boardwalk on his way to work.. He’d been back in town for a good while now and it had been a few months since he shot that skunk outside the jail. However, he could still detect the odor it left behind.. He had to do something about Ned Travis. The outlaw been in jail for what seemed an eternity and the judge was due back in town, but he had not showed up yet. When he did, Doc would have the papers drawn up to extradite Ned back to Texas to stand trial for a laundry list of crimes including attempted murder. He walked into his office and found Old Pede dozing at the desk. “Where’s Titus?,” Doc demanded.
The old man woke with start. “Gone over the court house,” Pede replied with a yawn. “Then he said he was going home.”
“Has young Johansen been by yet?,” Doc replied as he looked around his office.
“Yup,” Pede answered “Brought Ned his breakfast, then went off to help his Pa over at the barn. Said he’d be back in a hour.”
Realizing that he needed to vacate the sherif’s chair, Pede eased himself up and moved away from the desk. “It still stinks in here,” Doc commented as he sat down and looked at the stack of mail in front of him.
“Sure does,” Ned commented from his cell “You ever going to do anything about it?”
“Just after I get you back to Texas, Ned,” Doc replied as he began looking through the envelopes and papers on his desk.
“I told Mister Jake that I can get rid of that pole cat stink,” Pede said “Just need some....”
“I know,” Doc cut in “Whisky and coal oil.”
“That’s right,” the old man stated, a wide toothless grin on his face. “How’s that little gal, you brung home , Sherrif?”
“She’s doing fine,” Doc replied “Thanks for asking.”
“Your Missus had me to feed them horses up there at your barn yesterday,” Pede said “That stud is a mighty fine animal, and so is that mare.”
Doc grinned proudly “Yes, they sure are. “, he agreed.
Pede started toward the door. “Ye know, Sherif,” he said “That red stud is fine, but if ye was to run him and Smokey Joe against Mr. Jake’s Wind Walker, I think Joe would take them both. Wind Walker ain’t never been beat, so Mister Jake tells it.”
“ Of course my horse could take him, Pede,” Doc said with a confident and cockeyed grin on his face ,“Smokey Joe’s the fastest horse ever to come out or Texas.”


Abilene Kansas

I will never know a total of the miles we went that summer, but I would never forget it. If I learned anything that year, it was that the life of a cowboy is far from how he is depicted in the stories told and written about him. We were lucky, we moved that herd all the way from North Texas, crossed the dangerous Oklahoma Territory and into Kansas and our long tedious journey ended at the cattle pens at Abilene. It was over, and I had accomplished far more than I ever dreamed I would. I was contemplating that as I stood on the porch of the paymasters’s office. We had delivered the Hinkely cattle as promised , accounts had been settled and the men paid off. Ely Jax folded his money away into the pocket of his worn dungarees as he stood next to me watching the people and horses in the teeming street of this busy town.
“Guess you will be heading back to Portersville,” he commented.
“Reckon I will,” I replied .
“Nobody’s seen Vickers, “Ely added “I think he’s yellow and won’t show his face again.”
“We got the job done, Ely,” I said “I am not dead. So I guess I am blessed after all.”
“Jerrod,” he said “That man swore he would kill you, yet you seem less than concerned.”
I am concerned,” I replied, not really wanting to talk about Vickers. I shot his cousin, and the time would come that it would be him or me.”
“You been over to the post office yet?” Ely asked to change the subject.
“No.,” I replied. “Didn’t know they’d have one out here. Why?”
“Just thought that Sam might have written you and sent the letter there,” he said “That’s all.”
“May be I ought to go take a look.,” I replied.
“She’s a fine woman, ain’t she.”, Ely declared “Right pretty one too. It ain’t been the same with her gone.” His words sent jealousy coursing through my blood. But I bit it back and chose to ignore it. Did he not realize that I was the man who was going to court Sam Dodge and hopefully convince her that she needed to marry me. Then he looked me straight in the eye, “I want you to know, Jerrod, that I intend to make Sam my girl when we get back to Texas.”
There it was. I knew he’d had something stuck in his craw for a long time , ever since the day he began to realize that there something between Sam and me.
I glared back at him. “May the best man win, Ely.” I said and at that I walked away before I lost my temper and took a swing at him. He walked off in the direction of the saloon. Though I was stinging from his remarks I did find his advice about the post office interesting. Could she have written to me? I said a little prayer as I walked down the street toward the general store.

Abilene Kansas, was a cow town. Everywhere I looked there was a saloon, accommodations for drovers, Gambling houses and brightly dressed women, their faces painted, strolling along the boardwalks. Even a green horn would have been able to figure out what they were all about. I’d seen women like them before in the more seedy areas of New York City. My Ma told me they were wicked and I was to stay away from them. Other herds had come in around the same time we did and there were drunken cowboys all over the streets. More than enough to take up with those soiled doves. They surely didn’t need me.
The rail road ran right through the middle of the town, and ended at the cattle pens. It was a thriving and very large place. “You there, cowboy!”, a female voice called out. I paused and looked up at a balcony above one of the saloons. There was a painted lady, smiling down at me. “Looking for some company?”, she cooed.
“No thanks,” I replied and started to walk away.
That was when I saw Scrub Pot, wading through the mud in the street toward me. He did not have that sour look on his face like he usually had as he walked up to me.
“Where are you headed?”, he asked.
“I was looking for the post office,” I replied “Just thought I’d check there and see if maybe Sam had written us.”
“It’s inside the general store,” Scrub Pot replied “Of course they were not real happy to see an Indian walk in, but once I talked to them, they understood why I had come.”
“You’ve already been there?”, I asked , a little disappointed.
He grinned as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a thick brown paper envelope and handed it to me.
“I know my Granddaughter,” he said as he walked away. “We leave bright and early in the morning, so be ready.” he added..
Stunned I looked down at the handwriting on the envelope I was holding in my hand. “How does he do that?, ” I asked to myself. The sound of an out of tune piano playing “Darlin’ Clementine”drifted from the open door of one of the saloons, as I walked by. I was going back to “The Drover House”, where we were staying to read this answer to my prayer. I had missed Sam, and been worried about her for too long. The last time I had seen her, she was lying in the back of her uncle’s wagon, drugged against the pain of her injuries and that was my last memory of her. Until Scrub Pot had handed me that letter, I had no way of knowing if Doc had even made it back to Portersville. But knowing the man as I did, I had consoled myself with the idea that he had. I turned and walked back down the street toward the hotel. I walked in the door, still staring at the envelope in my hand and nearly collided with Floyd Jax.
“Hey Jerrod,” he said “Where you been? Want to go play a hand of poker with me and Ely?”
“Maybe later,” I replied as I walked passed him. That was when he saw the envelope in my hand. “You got a letter?”, he asked excitedly “It is from Miss Sam?”
“Yes,” I replied as I tried to head for my room down the hall.
“You got to tell me if she is all right,” Floyd insisted “You know that I went all the way to Portersville for help when she got hurt.. Come on Jerrod... Tell me what she said.”
“All right, Floyd,” I said, giving in “Go find your brother and start a game. I’ll find you after I read this and then I will tell you all what Sam had to say.”
“I’d be thankful to hear any news ‘bout Sam or Doc.” he said.
I unlocked the door of my hotel room and walked in as Floyd headed off to the nearest saloon. I could hardly wait to sit down and open up that envelope, but my hands were shaking. What if she had taken up with some other fellow and she was writing to tell me she didn’t want to see me? Then I remembered what Scrub Pot told me about how the devil loves to make trouble just when things are going right. So I whispered a little prayer before I tore the envelope open and sat down on the bed. There were three letters inside. One from Sam, one from Doc’s wife and a short scribbled message from Doc. I took up the first page, which was from Sam and began to read.

Dear Jerrod:

I don’t know if this letter will find you or not. But sending it to the post office in Abilene was my only choice. I received all your letters last month and have read every one over and over. I was pleased to know you were all right and the herd was moving on. I am healing very well, but the doctor says I have to keep my arm in the sling for a while longer. My new aunt is wonderful. She is teaching me how to cook and a few other things as well. She and I are keeping a secret too and I can not even tell you what it is. I miss you very much and hope you are well. I intend to hold you to your promise to ride back to Texas with me. Trouble is fine and so is Desert Rose. They seem happy to be together here. Please come back to me safe and give my love to my Grandfather and the boys.

Love,
Samantha Ann

Well, Sam didn’t write a whole lot, but what she has said, was just what I needed to hear. She’d told me that she missed me, to come back safe and signed her letter with the word “love” and that made me happy. I was in love with this girl, and I was going to marry her, no matter what I had to do, and if Ely wanted her, then he was in for the fight of his life, and I was just the man to give it to him. Victoria Stevens has written a pleasant letter, telling me that I was welcome at their home and that Sam was getting better every day. Doc had written also, telling me to keep my head on straight. He had not had any contact from Vickers or heard anything about him since he took Sam back to Portersville. That should have been comforting, but it made me nervous when I thought about it. I had my troubles to deal with, but aside from it all, I had something wonderful to look forward too. Seeing Sam again and being with her. The idea of it made everything feel like it had all been worthwhile and I wished that Mud would grow wings and we could fly back to Portersville.
By the end of the week, everything was settled and the supply wagon packed with the provisions we needed. So we left Abilene, The Jax brothers, me, Scrub Pot , his dog, his wagon and his mules, Wakeeze and John Prince all of us bound Texas. Everyone had a home to go back to. I’d decided that I was going to stay in Texas, no matter what the future held. But at the moment, my thoughts were on getting to back to Portersville and. Sam.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


It was a long ride back from Kansas, but with every mile that fell behind us, we drew closer to Portersville and the border between Texas and the Oklahoma Territory. My mind was made up, I was going to marry Sam and I would not take no for an answer. I hoped Scrub Pot was right when he talked about God bringing people together. He told me that he’d learned that early on when he married Alice Marley, many years before. “My chief sent me to o kill her and her family, to burn her father’s cabins and take his horses. But when I saw her, I knew with every fiber of my being that she was the one woman intended for me to be with. I stopped my braves from attacking and sent them away. I loved her from the moment I set eyes on her and was grateful for all the years we had before she died. I know that Heaven is our final destination, and that when I get there, she will be waiting for me, our son at her side.” He always was sad when he talked about his wife. I wondered what had happened to her and their son, as he never said.
I thought of how quiet and peaceful it was to ride along side Scrub Pot’s wagon and just enjoy the peace that came with the open range in front of us. It seemed odd at first to not be eating dust and pushing cattle, and I got used to it quickly. We passed a few folks heading for California with their Conestoga wagons drawn by teams of mules or oxen. We even spent a night in one of the wagon camps and heard the latest news and warnings about hostile Indians that were roaming the Oklahoma Territory to the South. Scrub Pot grunted and settled back by the fire and just listened to all the chatter going on around him. I had gotten to know him quite well over the time we’d spent on the trail. When I would think I had him all figured him out, he would take a turn, smile and lose me again or leave me in awe over a glimpse into his passed on one of those rare occasions when he felt like talking about his life and adventures. I felt like I had known his wife Alice from the stories he told me about her and his son Joseph, the man who had been Sam’s father. Since the accident and Sam being taken back to Portersville to recover, the old man had done his job but often kept to himself. But tonight, he seemed reflective as we sat by the wagon. “What is the worst thing you have ever seen , Jerrod?”, he asked.
Growing up in New York City on the wrong side of town, I’d seen more than my share of unsavory sights and spilled blood. Why was he asking about it?
“Well, “ I began, “There are gangs in New York. They have been there for years, Irish, Spanish, Italian, just to mention a few of them and they fought bloody wars between the factions. A friend of mine was killed by a mob of them and everyone was afraid to go outside at night because of the violence and the murders.”
I did not know how much Scrub Pot understood about the size of New York City in those days, or the people who lived there, but he listened intently as I spoke. When I was done telling him of all the bloody murders and fighting mobs of people, Scrub Pot pondered what I had told him.
“It is always the same,” the old man said “Bloodshed, death, murder as two factions or more struggle for supremacy. Some fight for foolish reasons, others for glory and power. Legends are born that way, Jerrod Bently.”
“What is the worst battle you have ever seen?”, I asked as I stared into the camp fire.
“The desolation and relocation of my tribe and all the tribes,” he said quietly “But the worst bloodshed I ever saw was not any battle between my people and yours. It was in a small town in South Texas. San Antonio., near Bexar.”
“The Alamo?,” I asked in amazement “You saw that?”
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied “I was very young and traveling with my father and brother. Through all of my life, I have never forgotten what I saw as we passed through after the battle was over.”
“1836 was a long time ago,” I commented “It is all written down in the history books. I read about it and was schooled about the heroism of the men who died there. I was always intrigued by it. “
”Over time legends become more and more embellished,” Scrub Pot replied “”Heroism, patriotism as the white men saw it, and my life for the most part has been lived in the State of Texas in harmony with my white neighbors, but what I saw in my tenth year was the worst butchery I would ever see.” His dark eyes grew misty. “We heard of all the fighting between the Mexicans and the people who wanted freedom from them. We had our own ways, the ways of the Blackfoot, but no tribe was blind to what was going on. The white men wanted Texas. In the end of it all, it would effect us and our way of life as well. “
I was amazed and just looked back at him in awe. “What was it like?”, I asked.
“Not unlike what I imagine Hell to be,” the old man replied “Dead men lay everywhere. We passed through silently and unseen by the Mexican troops , or we would have been killed too. There were bodies floating in the river, poisoning the water so our horses could not drink until we were many miles down stream. We saw clouds of black smoke rising above what was left of the city. They were burning the bodies of the dead. The stench of death was everywhere. For many years after, the nightmares plagued me. My father was a very strong and brave man, yet this massacre effected him and gave him horrors at night when he tried to sleep. It was with him until he died.”
A chill swept down my spine. May be remembering the battle of the Alamo was better read in history books. Not as it had been seen through the eyes on a young Blackfoot boy who many years ago, witnessed the aftermath. Scrub Pot looked up at me, and smiled “The past is an ugly place sometimes, Jerrod Bently. The future is where we all must go. And, if we expect to make Portersville in the next few days, I need to sleep.”
“Yes,” I agreed as I lay back on my blankets, and rested my head on my saddle, but after all the old man had told me, I knew I would not sleep much.


RETURN TO PORTERSVILLE


The clock in the tower on top of the court house was just striking two o’clock in the afternoon when we rode into town. Ely and Floyd headed for the hotel and then the saloon across town. It seemed those two boys were always looking for trouble, yet some how seemed to evade it most of the time. Scrub Pot went to the black smith shop to see Kane Wolf and I was going to do what I knew I had to do before I could see Sam. I walked into the sherif’s office. It was killing me to not just turn around, get on my horse and ride back up the street to Doc and Victoria’s house, but I had given my word that I would turn myself in as soon as I got to Portersville.
Doc was in the back, talking with Ned Travis and Jake Titus. They’d heard the door open and Doc, wearing his worn dungarees, white shirt and black leather vest greeted me. “Jerrod Bently,” he declared as we shook hands “It’s good to see you again? Did you stop by the house on the way in?”
“No,” I replied as I unbuckled my gun belt, removed it and offered it to him. “I came here first, like I said I would, Doc. To turn myself in.”
Doc looked at me with that same look on his face that I remembered from the day he arrived at the cattle camp after Sam got hurt. “Ain’t necessary.,’ he said flatly “And I won’t be taking your gun. Not while Jeb Vickers is still out there waiting for the right moment to kill you.”
“But the law says,.” I began. Doc cut me off.
“There’s very little of that out here, Jerrod,” he said “And I won’t be locking you up in there with Ned either. You just hang around here till the judge gets in. I am sure that Sam and Victoria will keep you busy so you won’t be too bored.”
I had not expected this. I shot a man in defense of Sam any myself. The law back east would have had me in jail and tried long ago. Doc handed me back my gun belt. “Judge Douglass will be here in a few days,” he said “Jake here has some good information about Dalton and we will get this matter resolved. Now you go on over to the house, and see Sam. She’s been missing you.”
“Did she get my letters?”, I asked hopefully.
Doc grinned, “She sure did, son,” he replied “Some tinker brought them to Hap over at the livery.”
“How is she?,” I asked..
“She is fine, Jerrod,” Doc replied “The doctor said that break in her arm has healed up real well. Other than that she’s been missing you and wanting to ride red devil of hers.”
“Thank God,” I said as I buckled my gun belt back around my hips. Now I felt that I was fully dressed.
“Well, “ Doc prompted “Don’t be hanging around this jail, son. Go make my niece a happy woman.”
I guess I was a little stunned . I had half expected to be incarcerated in the Portersville jail, but I was a free man. “I sure will, Doc,” I promised and left hurriedly. It had been too long since I had seen her and I could not wait any longer.

From the window of his room on the top floor of the Portersville Hotel, Jeb Vickers watched. His latest girl friend, Jenny, one of the soiled doves from the Wreck an Ruin Saloon across town had been able to convince him to pursue what he believed to be his cousin’s murder in a court of law. But he had found it hard to keep his promise to her now that he had just seen Jerrod Bently stroll out of the Sherif’s Office and ride off on his grey. There was going to be trouble in the streets of this small town, and it wouldn’t be long before it broke loose.


+++++++++++++


Sam was gathering eggs from the nests in a small chicken coop near the barn. Though she still had to keep her left arm in a sling most of the time, she was now able to use both hands. Her headaches had gone away and the injury to her ankle and knee had healed long ago. She was wearing Victoria’s black gauchos and a white linen shirt. Her long auburn hair was pulled back in a long braid that nearly touched her slender waist. Gone were the cuts and bruises from the dreadful fall that she’d taken. There would always be a small scar at the edge of her hair line on the right side of her forehead, but in time that be the only mark left on her from the accident. Earlier, she’d noticed that Desert Rose was most likely coming into season and she’d turned her out in with Trouble hoping that nature would take its course and somewhere in the future, there might be a foal. She finished gathering the eggs and closed the door of the chicken coop. That was when the Blackfoot blood in her whispered a warning. Slowly she turned around, and there he was, standing by the side of the barn, looking at her, the reins of his grey in his calloused hand. His clothes were covered with trail dirt and the brim of his gray hat shaded his misty blue eyes. That lazy smile of his which she had seen in her lonely dreams for weeks, now all but moved her to tears as she raised her dark eyes to his. His dark brown hair had grown down to his shoulders and his gun belt hung low on his hips. Jerrod was far more handsome than she had remembered him to be. He had become the very embodiment of what people like J. W. Titus referred to as a real “Texas Cowboy.”
“Jerrod,” she uttered,, letting the basket she had been holding fall to the ground. The Western omelet she’d promised to make for Doc would have to wait now until the chickens lay more eggs.
“Hello Sam,” he drawled. It was a blessing to see her healed and back to herself again. Her arm was still mending, but that was nothing considering how badly she had been hurt when he pulled her out of that ravine. She was beautiful, and he had waited so long for this moment to come. Jerrod dropped his reins, leaving his horse to graze and closed the distance between them. Carefully and gently he took her in his arms. Sam clung to him. “Siksika,” he whispered against her dark and fragrant hair. “Yes,” she breathed as she gazed up at him with tears in her eyes, “I am and always will be.”
“I promised I would ride back to Texas with you ,” he said, his blue eyes focused on her moist and inviting lips. “Is that offer still good?
“I missed you so much,” she whispered . There was no more to say and the way he kissed her spoke for him. Pulling her arm out of the sling, Sam wrapped it firmly around his neck as he held her closer than he ever had dared to before. At this moment telling her how much he loved her did not seem to be enough as he lifted her up into his arms . “I asked you if the offer was still good?”, he whispered against her lips. Her senses were whirling out of control “What offer?,” she whispered back wanting him to kiss her again. “To ride back to Texas with you.” Jerrod replied.
“You remembered that?” she said softly.
“Yes,” he answered “And I am a man who keeps my word, especially when I have given it to you.” He had always thought her natural beauty made her so desirable, but today she looked like an angel in his arms. “Marry me, Sam,” he whispered “Marry me right now. Today.” Her gentle touch on his suntanned cheek turned his lips back to hers. The fire and passion they shared gave Jerrod Bently the the answer he wanted to hear.
“Ah hmm,” someone coughed behind them. “So sorry to interrupt this reunion, my children,” Scrub Pot said, “Unless of course you need me to get my book so you can say your vows.” On hearing her Grandfather’s voice, Sam broke their kiss and wiggled out of Jerrod’s arms’ She ran to Scrub Pot who waited with open arms beside his black and white paint. “Thank you, Father God,” he breathed in prayer as he embraced her. Jerrod smiled , a tear in his eye at their reunion. Victoria has been inside the house and stepped out on the back porch when she’d heard someone outside. She had seen Sam reunited with the man she loved and happy tears formed in her eyes. Sam and Jerrod were together and one day they would be man and wife, of that she had no doubt.
Jerrod and Scrub Pot had come back safely from a long and dangerous trek that took them many miles from Texas , across the Oklahoma Territory, to Kansas and back. Soon they would go home to Grant’s Creek and Sam would go with them. She slid her hand gently over her belly. “I know you are there, baby,” she said in the silence of her thoughts, “Soon I will tell your father.” She would not even have told Sam that she thought she was carrying, but the day Sam caught her dealing with morning sickness, Victoria did not want to lie to her. “Sam, you can not tell anyone,” Victoria had told the girl “Before I can say anything to Doc, I have to be sure.” Sam had kept her secret.
Seeing her aunt on the porch, Sam took Jerrod’s hand and led him to her. “This is Jerrod Bently,” she said. Victoria took his out stretched hand. “Yes, honey,’ she said “I know. Welcome Jerrod., I am so glad you are here. ” Scrub pot was right behind the two young people.
“Hello Victoria,” he said “It is good to see you again.” Victoria walked down the few steps, went to the old man and threw her arms around him. “Welcome, Reverend.,” she said “Please come in side. Doc will be home soon.”
“Well, Victoria,” Scrub Pot said “If you are cooking, I am staying.”
She laughed brightly “The last time I saw you was at our wedding.”, she said.
The old man looked at her and grinned “And that was a while ago,”he answered as he followed her into the house. Jerrod and Sam behind them. “Sam,” Victoria asked “Did you get the eggs?”
Sam stood by the kitchen table, Jerrod ’s arm around her shoulders “I am sorry, Aunt Victoria,” she said “I think I broke them when I dropped the basket.”
“May be not all of them,” Jerrod replied as he reluctantly removed his arm and headed out the back door to retrieve the basket Sam had left by the chicken coop.
Scrub Pot turned to his grand daughter “We have business to discuss,” he said “I have the money due you for taking Hinkley’s cattle to market. We made a pretty good profit and there will be more than enough to pay him off. ” Sam smiled at her grandfather. “Thank you,” she whispered.


We sat down to a fried chicken dinner with all the fixings that night. Doc was a lucky man. Not only was his new wife a beauty, and a real lady, she was a fine cook too. I had to push myself away from the table after she and Sam presented us with a large chocolate cake for dessert. Doc was beaming at the head of the table, and I could tell the man was happy. In a way I envied him. But I had been praying that maybe one day I would be sitting at the head of a table with a family around me. With dinner over and dessert served, Doc rose from his chair. “Want to step outside, Zachariah,” he directed to Scrub Pot. Think I’d like a smoke.”
Knowing they had much to talk about, the old Indian rose to his feet and turned to Victoria as she was gathering up the dishes. “I thank you for a fine meal, Missus Stevens,” he said with a wink. Victoria blushed and smiled “You are welcome, Reverend Dodge,” she replied.
I could not take my eyes off Sam as we sat at the table, her hand closed in mine. I could tell that she was tired and fighting it. “I want to ride Trouble tomorrow,” she said.
“How long has it been since you’ve been in the saddle?” I asked, a little worried.
“Since the day of the accident,” she said “but I think I am ready.”
Victoria set a stack of dirty dishes in the wash tub near the kitchen water pump. “Don’t you think you should talk to Dr. O’Brien before you get back on your horse, Sam?, she asked.
“Yes,” I agreed “I think that would be a very good idea, Sam.”
That stubborn look I had come to know so well crossed her face. “I have to get on him sooner or later, “ she said with a defiant edge to her words. “It might as well be sooner. Then we can start for home.”
We all retired to the front porch of the cottage. Sam and I sat together on the front step enjoying the sunset while Scrub Pot entertained Doc and his wife with tales about our days on the trail. I didn’t hear him, I was just glad to be with Sam. I think she was glad to see me too, as she never let go of my hand and lay her head on my shoulder as we sat there watching the sunset fade to black as the stars came out.
She yawned and then looked up at me. “I am tired,” she said “I am going to bed. Will you stay here tonight, Jerrod?”
Of course I wanted to, but did not think it was proper. “No,” I replied reluctantly “I don’t think so. The hotel is not far and I....” Doc cut me off as he joined us on the step. “There’s a bunk out there in the barn, ” he said. “I built it for Sam a while back, and Victoria has it fixed up real fine.”
Now, that sounded good to a trail weary cowboy. “Thanks, Doc,” I replied.
He grinned ,“Look like you could use a good nights sleep anyway. You say good night to Sam and I’ll show you where to put your gear.”
I walked Sam to the door of her room and gently kissed her on the forehead. “Good night,” I said as she looked up at me and smiled. “Good night, Jerrod,” she replied “I forgot to tell you, that there is a friend who stays in the barn sometimes.”
“A friend?”, I asked “You mean Trouble, don’t you.”
“No,” she said “it’s a dog. I have been feeding him out there. Doc and Victoria don’t know about him yet, so don’t tell.”
“Sam,” I said, “This dog isn’t going to bite me is it.”
“No silly,” she replied “He’s very friendly. I named him Goldy.”
I pulled her into my arms and just held her. She was such a blessing and seemed almost child like in some ways. “All right. I’ll make friends with your Goldy dog,” I promised. She kissed me gently on the cheek and then slipped into her room and closed the door. Doc met me half way to the back door a coal oil lantern glowing in his hand. “She’s tired and will sleep well tonight ,” he said quietly “But she’ll be up at the crack of dawn and looking for you.”
Doc showed me to the barn. He’d made a sort of a day room out of one of the empty box stalls , there was a bunk on the wall, an a small table with a lamp on it next to it. As weary as I was, it looked like the best suite in the most exclusive hotel in New York to me. The bed was even made up with crisp looking white sheets and a quilt. Doc lit the lamp. “You can put you saddle on that stand over there, and don’t worry about the critters, they are all bedded down for the night. I could hear the sound of three contented horses eating hay in the stalls beyond.
“Thanks, Doc,” I said with a yawn. He grinned at me. “Glad you made it back alive, Bently,” he said “Victoria will be expecting you for breakfast and she is always up and cooking by six.”
“I wouldn’t want to miss that, “ I replied “Your wife is a good cook.”
“Even I would seem to be a good cook after all these months of eating Scrub Pot’s cooking,” he said. “Good night, Jerrod. “
”I thanked him for his hospitality , then went out to the paddock to get my saddle. I had left it perched on the top rail of the fence. When I returned, anticipating a comfortable night in that bunk, I found a big gold and white collie curled up in the middle of it. He looked up at me, daring me to tell him to get down. So this was Goldy.
I stood there waiting for the big dog to make a move, but he didn’t he just lay there, curled up in the middle of the bed, looking up at me with those soft brown eyes. Then I remembered, in my saddle bag, there was a stick of jerky. Yes, that would persuade the dog that I was a friend and he should get off the bunk and lay down in the straw on the floor if he was going to stay.
“Now you be a good dog,” I said cautiously as I set my saddle down and rummaged through the saddle bag for the jerky. There it was, and the dog seemed to know it too. His ears perked up and he began to sniff. Oh, this would be easy. I handed him the first piece and he took it gently from my hand. I had expected to get snapped, but was pleasantly surprised. Obviously, Sam had been working with this stray and he looked pretty good, like he’d been brushed often. He sniffed my fingers for more, and then I knew I had him. I offered the next taste and he hopped down onto the floor. I was too tired to argue with anyone over a bed, even Sam’s dog. I sat down, pulled off my boots and lay down. I looked over at the collie and saw that he’d made himself a bed in the straw and was already closing his eyes. “Goldy.” I said to myself “Guess you will be going back to Texas with us too.”
I closed my eyes, whispered a prayer of thanks and fell asleep. It seemed like it was only for a few minutes , when the sound of the barn door creaking open caused me to awaken with a start and reach for my gun. “Jerrod?” It was Sam. “Are you up?”
I holstered my gun and rubbed my eyes. “Yes,” I answered. Was that bacon I was smelling?” “You will have to open the door,” she said “I have brought breakfast for us.” Goldy was up and at the stall door, his tail wagging. Realizing I ‘d slept in my dungarees, I got up, dusted off and slid the door open. There she was, my Sam. Her long dark hair free and falling down her shoulders, and her brown eyes sparkling as she smiled up at me. “I cooked it myself,” she said proudly. That worried me a little, considering she was Scrub Pot’s granddaughter, but I smiled back at her as she walked in and set the tray down. I was soon very pleased to discover that her cooking was pretty darn good. Not like Victoria’s the night before, but this breakfast of coffee, biscuits, bacon and eggs was delicious. I forgot all about her grandfather’s cooking as soon as I took my first bite.
I noticed as she held her coffee cup in her hands that she was no longer wearing the sling. She was also wearing the same dungarees and linen shirt she’d worn on the trail. “You going to ride today?”, I asked worriedly.
“Yes,” she said “And you are too.”
“Mud is plumb wore out Sam,” I said “I think we should wait a day or two.”
She looked back at me and shook her head. “Mud can rest,” she replied. “You can ride Rose.”
“Sam, are you sure you are ready to do this?” I asked , hoping to get her to change her mind.
“Every day I come out here and I watch Trouble pace in his paddock and he calls out to me because he wants to go home and so do I. “ she said . I slid my arm around her as she sat next to me on the edge of the bunk. “All right Sam,” I said. “Let’s go get him.” She looked up at me. “He doesn’t worry you anymore, Jerrod?”
“No,” I answered “He and I had a good talk before he left with you and Doc.” She giggled and rose to her feet. “Well, no time like the present,” she said.
Trouble nickered at me from his stall as I slid the door open. He sniffed my hand and nosed at it. Sam smiled as she watched from the other side of the stall door. “He likes you,’ she said.
“I was hoping he might,” I replied as I reached for his bridle. The big stud stood still, then lowered his head. I slid the bit into his mouth. Sam never heard my sigh of relief. She just watched as I fastened the bridle straps and put the reins over Trouble’s big head. I put the saddle blanket on his broad back and he stood like a stone and received the weight of Sam’s saddle. That was when she stopped me. “I’ll cinch him up,”she said “Trouble can be mighty touchy about that sometimes.” A horse as big and powerful as he was, “touchy” could get a man killed . She cinched that saddle on just as I had seen her to a thousand times. Trouble grunted then lifted his tail. If a horse could smile, I know he would have as Sam and I left the stall to let the foul air clear out. She was laughing. “No gas colic,” she said.
“Or showing his contempt,” I replied in disgust.
We led Trouble out to the paddock. I said a silent prayer as watched her grab that saddle horn and put her foot in the stirrup . Sam stood there for a moment, not moving as I watched the stud turn his head to look at her. She said something to him in her native language and slowly he lowered himself down onto his front knees. Sam climbed into the saddle, touched him on the shoulder and he rose up. I was amazed as I stood at the fence watching her. She was where she belonged now, and Trouble seemed to know it too. He started to paw at the ground, telling her he wanted to go somewhere. A shrill and loud whinny came from the other paddock. “Go get her, Jerrod,” Sam said as she walked the stud around in a circle. He wants her with him. Now to say I wasn’t a little nervous about riding Desert Rose for the first time would be a lie, because I was. She was an Indian pony and I had no idea what she would do when I saddled her. She hollered and carried on the whole time I was brushing her and getting her saddled. Trouble kept answering her too and I heard Sam laughing out there while she rode him around and around in the paddock. “Goldy!!” I heard her call and suddenly the big collie shot passed me and rushed to meet Sam. Guess he was going along for the ride too. Rose stood still for me, but fidgeted while I put the saddle on her and then led her out of the barn. Once she saw Trouble she was fine. “You all right Sam”. I asked as I shaded my eyes and looked up at her. “Never better ,” she replied as she petted the stud’s neck. “You think you can keep up?” she asked with a smile that just dared me to mount up and try.
“I saw this mare run,” I said as I swung into the saddle “Do you think you can keep up?” She laughed as she gathered the reins. She trotted the stud around the corral about three times, then shouted to him in the Blackfoot language and he shot forward, clearing the fence like it wasn’t even there. “Guess you don’t need me to open the gate for you after all, Sam,” I said to myself as I headed the mare toward the open gate. Sam was already far ahead of me, with her golden collie keeping up. I gave Rose her head once we were out of the gate and soon we were gaining on Sam and the stud. It was like flying as we dashed across the fields outside of town, if there was a log in the way, the stud jumped it. I heard Sam holler, “Hang on, Jerrod!!” as we approached a fence that bordered the Double J Ranch. Side by side, we cleared the fence together. If I had any doubts that the accident had in anyway effected Sam’s love for that stallion or her ability to ride him I didn’t have them now. We dashed on, but Goldy had decided to leave us at the fence. He ran back and forth barking, and then turned and took off back toward town. Sam had never looked more beautiful than she did with her face flushed, and the wind in her long hair. She and that stud were a team and I could tell he was very happy to have her on his back again. I slowed Rose down to a lope, then a trot and watched Sam ride over the hill. I petted the mare’s neck “She did it, Rose,” I said. The mare snorted and let me know she was not ready to quit yet. We met Sam at the Double J.


+++++++++++++++++++++++


Everyone in town always knew when the circuit judge was in his chambers at the court house, because by 8:00 sharp, Jake Titus rode in, tied his mule to the hitching post outside and entered through the side door. It was the same every time, but today something was different. Jake Titus was wearing his gun. There were at least twenty different complaints and cases for Judge Douglas to hear and rule on. He grinned as he looked at the court docket. It seemed that his new sherrif was doing a fine job. There was an extradition to Texas, a complaint of drunk and disorderly, a second of the same nature, public intoxication, and assault. Then there was the matter of Doc’s report on the shooting of Tom Dalton by one Jerrod Adam Bently. He also noticed that with in the last week an official charge of murder had been leveled against the same man. It was going to be a very long day for both the judge and for Jake Titus. Jake was aware of it all and was confident that Jeb Vicker’s charges would be thrown out of court and Jerrod Bently would walk away a free man. But what little law there was in the territory had to stand, and in his saddle bags, Jake had all that he needed to assure that Jerrod would be cleared of all and any charges against him.

Doc woke up that morning uneasy. May be he sensed something evil in the wind. He was a man who had spent his younger years chasing Comanches and out laws with the Texas Rangers , and he’d learned to pay attention to gut feelings and hunches. It made Victoria nervous when he sat at the kitchen table, loaded one of his Colt and was cleaning his Forty Five. If he was wearing two guns, instead of his usual side arm, he was expecting trouble. Sometimes she wondered how many outlaws had faced those pearl handled guns and not lived to tell about it. She’d overheard Pede telling about how he’d never seen a man draw a gun so fast as Doc had the day he shot that pole cat. “Are you worried about the hearing this morning”, she asked as she added more bacon to the skillet that sizzled on her black iron stove.
“Don’t know, Honey,” he replied as he carefully loaded six bullets into the chamber of his second Navy Colt. “Best to be ready if anything goes wrong. Where is Sam?” She knew he was changing the subject to divert her attention.
“In her room.,” Victoria replied as she returned to the stove to see of the coffee pot was starting to boil. “She has been so happy these last few days since Jerrod has been here,” she added “But I will be glad very glad when this is all over.”
“No more than I will, Vic,” Doc replied , “She has to tell her side of the story before the judge today. I expect that Jerrod will be cleared of this ridiculous murder charge.”
“Vickers is in town.,” Victoria said as she removed her iron skillet from the hot stove. “And he has made no effort to keep it a secret.”
“I’ve seen him.,” Doc replied as he closed his gun and wiped it off with a rag. “He won’t make a move until things get settled. If he attempts to make good on his threats , I will have to do something about it.”
“Doc.,” Victoria said quietly as she reached for her husband’s hands. “He’s a gunman. You read what Jake found out about him and the man Jerrod killed. “I am worried.”
“Victoria.,” he said. “I have lived a long time and I have a past. You don’t have to worry.” She saw that look in his eyes, the one that told her he was not going to talk about it any longer. “Now go tell Sam it is time to get ready to go. I will meet you at the court house..”
“We will both be there,” his wife promised. “Do you want to go wake Jerrod?”
“Where is he?” Doc asked. .
“He’s been sleeping in the barn,” Victoria answered “I told the boy he was welcome to sleep on the settle in the parlor, but he said no.”
Doc holstered his guns, one on his hip and on at his side, one that would be hidden by his black duster when he pulled it on. He chuckled to himself as he reached for the long garment , hanging by the back door. “I never saw a man greener than that boy was when we started out,” he said as he pulled it over his shoulders and reached for his hat. “Things sure have changed.”
Victoria smiled at him as he started toward the door. “You are proud of him, aren’t you.,” she said.
“Sure am, Vic.,” Doc replied “He’s come a long way.”
“When do you think he will convince Sam to marry him? Before we leave for Texas.?”, she asked.
“Don’t know, Vic,” Doc replied “The boy is riding with me today.” As Doc walked across the back yard to the barn , he thought about what his wife had just said about going back to Texas. He loved her far too much to let her take that ride with him. He’d thought Sam would be all right with the cattle drive too, and she had nearly died as a result. No, Victoria would not be going with him and there would be no argument about it.

+++++++++++++++++++

Doc told me that I had nothing to be worried about as we rode into town. I’d made my peace with God and myself over the matter one day. When we arrived at the court house, Scrub Pot already there, sitting on a bench outside waiting for us. He greeted us as we tied our horses to the hitching rail. “Where is Sam?” he asked “We are supposed to be in there ten minutes ago,” he said.
“They are right behind us, Zachariah,” Doc replied “Any other guests arrive?” I caught the condescending tone in his voice.
“Inside,” the old man replied “and he came in wearing a gun.”
“Figured as much,” Doc muttered. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on Jerrod,” he said “Let’s get this over with. “ He then turned to Scrub Pot. “Is Titus here yet?”
“Since eight o’clock this morning,” the old man replied. As we walked through the front door of the court house, I heard a buggy pulling up. That had to be Sam and Victoria.
The room was half the size of the court house itself. Not fancy, and the only embellishment was the American flag on a standing staff, next to the rostrum The judge sat behind a dark wooden desk there, looking like he’d rather be somewhere else. As I read the look on the man’s face, I had to empathize with him. Jake Titus was at the front of the courtroom, papers in hand, talking in hushed tones to the judge. Douglas was his name, Mack Douglas, Doc told me. I believe I had been told that this was the same judge who swore Doc Stevens in as Sherrif while on his way to the church when he married Victoria several months back. At least I had not heard anything about him being dishonest or sentencing a man to hang because he was too lazy or over worked to hear all the evidence. I was counting on Jake Titus to have all of that in order.
We walked in quietly. There sitting on the right side of the room was Jeb Vickers, and the look he gave me said it all. I was not going to be intimidated, as I passed by him and the shabby looking saloon girl seated next to him. I glared back and they both quickly looked away. “Good”, I thought to myself. Everyone had had to check their guns at the door when we came in, so if Vickers was going to make good on his threat to kill me, he’d have to wait till we got outside. I think that may have been what Doc was waiting for, but he didn’t mention it as we sat down near the front of the room. I noticed that he was still wearing his guns. I elbowed him in the ribs. “You forget something, Doc?” I whispered. He turned to me and grinned “I’m Sherrif here,” he said “I have to be armed in or out of this room.”
Some how I felt a lot safer knowing that. I turned to look back at the door when I heard Sam and Victoria come in. I hated that Sam was going to have to relive the events that led up to her accident. However she had been at peace with the idea after we’d talked it all over with Jake Titus at his ranch a few days before.
When Jake turned around from his private conversation with the judge, I noted that those icy blue eyes of his were not on me or Sam, but looking behind us. He was glaring at Jeb Vickers and I could tell, that this quiet well spoken rancher was planning to bury the man. Vickers could run and hide, but Jake Titus soon would reveal to the court just what kind of man we were dealing with.
“Sherrif Stevens?” the judge said “Please approach the bench.” Sam gripped my hand. I knew she was nervous and being inside a courtroom was something she had never experienced before.
“Yes, your honor.” Doc acknowledged as he walked up to the rostrum.
“Mr. Titus has put before me a document to extradite one Ned Travis back to Texas to face a charge of attempted murder. Am I to understand that the extradition is to be under taken by the Texas Rangers?”
“No, your honor,” Doc replied “ Nathan Travis has resigned from the Rangers. I am planing to take the prisoner to the authorities at Waco myself.”
Without much more of an exchange between them, I watched Doc sign a document and then return to his chair next to me and Sam. I looked past Sam at Victoria. She sitting there quietly watching the proceedings with Scrub Pot seated next to her. I had no idea that up under that dark riding skirt she wore , hidden in her garter was a derringer and that the lady well knew how t use it should the need arise.
Jeb Vickers carefully observed what was going on. Jake Titus’s icy display had him worried, but when he looked into the hazel eyes of Elliot Stevens as he’d crossed the court room to his chair, Vickers saw death. It took about an hour for the judge to hear about all the drunks, fights, thefts that had gone on over the past few months. He fined the defendants heavily and threatened them with jail if the fines weren’t paid and their behavior not improved. Jake Titus was earning his wages today, I thought.
Then it was our turn. I had been charged with a murder and that alone was worrisome. But I also knew that I had had to shoot Tom Dalton to save Sam and myself. Doc was called to give his testimony. He told the story just as it happened and handed the judge his written account, which he’d finished many weeks ago when he and Hap III brought Sam back to Portersville. Then it was my turn. It was easy for me to recount the events of that day, and all that had happened, because it haunted me day and night. Jake was asking me some questions and I answered truthfully. I think that probably Jeb Vickers saw how things were going when it was Sam’s turn to tell her part of the story. He got up and left the court room, that soiled dove of his who had been with him went after him, trying to convince him to return.
“Miss Dodge.,” the judge inquired “I know you are recovering from a terrible accident. However, I must ask you to tell the court exactly what happened before you a fell off that ledge.”
“I was returning to camp,” Sam began “I’d been out looking for a place to cross a river and I stopped to water my horse.”
“Was that when you were confronted by Tom Dalton?”, Jake asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Sam,” Jake said “I know this is hard for you, and I think the judge and everyone else understands what Dalton had in mind when he attacked you. What I want you t tell me is who drew his gun first, when Jerrod Bently rode up on you and Dalton struggling.”
“Jerrod shouted at Tom,” Sam recalled “I saw Tom turn around and draw his gun. Jerrod shot him before he could pull the trigger.”
“Your honor,” Jake addressed “I see a clear case of self defense and Mr. Bently intervening on behalf of Miss Dodge. “
The judge was quiet for a moment, considering all that he had heard and read on this matter. “Well Jake,” he said “I figure that is what happened too and as for Mr. Bently shooting a man who was wanted for murder, well I guess he did the great state of Tennessee a favor. The judge then turned to me. “My ruling is that this is a case of self defense, all charges against the defendant are dismissed. Mr. Bently, you are a free man. This court is adjourned.”
Jake crossed the room to where we were vacating the chairs we’d been sitting in for quite some time. He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Jerrod,” he said “Let’s all go out to the Double J and celebrate. J. W and Suzy have been cooking for days.”
“No pie I hope.,” Doc commented as we started to the door. Victoria giggled as she took his arm. “Don’t worry, J.W. baked cakes this time.” , she said . I collected my gun belt at the door and then I put my arms around Sam and she hugged me tight. I kissed her too and whispered to in her ear. “Marry me, Sam.” She smiled up at me, her dark eyes twinkling and said nothing. But I was sure that somewhere in the pretty little head of hers was the answer I wanted to hear.
Jeb Vickers was in the street in front of the court house. The saloon girl who had been in the court room with him was sitting on the edge of the bottom step weeping, her nose bleeding profusely as she rocked back in fourth. She had been beaten pretty badly and there was no question as to who had done it. Victoria started toward the stricken woman, but Doc stopped her short. “You and Sam get back inside, now!,” he ordered. Taking Sam by the sleeve of her jacket, Victoria pulled her back inside. “Come on Sam,” she said worriedly, “Pray with me.”

“What do you want, Vickers.,” Doc demanded.
“You know what I want, Sherrif,” the gunman taunted. “My trouble ain’t with you.”
“You are in my town, in my street,” Doc replied firmly “If you are bringing trouble, it’s mine.”
“Back off, old man,” Vickers snarled “It’s Bently I want.”
I wasn’t sure that I couldn’t take him. I was fast and had gotten even faster with all Doc had taught me since I’d arrived in Portersville, but now, here it was, the moment of truth and all I could think about was Sam.
“Don’t make her a widow before she’s a wife, son,” Doc hissed “Get back inside.” I stood my ground and stepped forward. Doc flung out his arm and stopped me . “I told you to get back inside.”, he growled.
“No,” I stated. “This is not your fight.”
“The hell is ain’t.,” he stated. He hit me so hard that I saw stars, and that was all I would remember.
“Bently is family,” Doc stated to Vickers as he came down the steps “You mess with him, you mess with me.”
Foolishly believing that Doc’s silver hair and white beard, made him appear to be no more than an arrogant old man, Vickers called him out.
“I will give you one chance to back down,” Doc stated “No one needs to die today.”
Vickers laughed. “Bently killed my cousin in cold blood.” he spit “Somebody is going to pay for that.”
“Well,” Doc said “Then if that is how you feel, I guess it might a well be you.” His cross draw was faster than a flash of lightening. I thought I heard the explosion of two guns firing as I was starting to come around there on the front steps of the court house. Jeb Vickers’ gun had hardly cleared leather when Doc’s bullet hit him dead center between the eyes. He was dead before he hit the ground. “Don’t believe in letting them suffer,” Doc said to himself as he holstered his gun and walked away.
Everyone was crowded around me. Sam splashed cold water in my face, as Victoria and Scrub Pot pulled me to my feet. I was dizzy, and later I would thank Doc for saving my life, but right now I wanted to give him back as good as he’d given me. I felt Sam’s arms around me.
“Let’s get you home, Jerrod,” she said as Victoria carefully looked at the lump on my head. May be this wasn’t so bad. I was being taken home to be looked after by the woman I loved and her very attractive aunt. Maybe I should have thanked Doc for cold-cocking me like he did.

The undertaker took Jeb Vickers’ mortal remain away to bury his worthless carcass in a sorry looking grave yard outside of town. I went home with Sam and Victoria, where they fussed over me like they thought I was going to die. Can’t say that I didn’t like it, because I did. Doc was no where to be found, but sent word to his wife that she was not to worry, he’d be back. It isn’t easy to kill a man, even ones that needed killing, and I figured Doc just needed some time alone.
“Do you want some more tea, Jerrod,?” Victoria asked.
“No thank you, ma’am, I will just finish what I have left here and be out of your hair.”, I replied.
“You need to stay here on the davenport, Jerrod,” Sam advised “My uncle packs a wicked punch and he hit you pretty hard.”
I stroked her cheek, as she sat beside me, her dark eyes filled with sweet concern. “I’m fine, Sam,” I said “Really I am.” The clock in the parlor chimed the hour of one. “We are expected over at the Double J,” she said “But if you are feeling poorly, Jerrod, you are welcome to rest here.”
The thought of being alone with Sam was appealing sure enough, but I was no worse for the wear. “Don’t want to disappoint the Titus clan,” I said “I want to thank Jake for what he did today on my behalf.”
“He was behind Doc at the court house,” Sam said “He was ready to draw if Vickers had gotten a lucky shot off.”
“Sorry I missed it all,” I said in mock disappointment “But the good sherrif kind of knocked my lights out.”
Sam laughed “And he kept you from getting yourself killed. So be as grateful as I am, Jerrod.”
Victoria set aside her tea cup and crossed the room to look out the window. “It was a frightening experience for us all,” she said “Let’s try to forget it an go over to Jake’s.”
“I like that The Double J,” Sam replied “It is how I want my ranch to be once we get back to Texas.” She squeezed my hand.
“I like it too,” Victoria replied “and if it ever comes up for sale, your uncle will be very interested.”
She then looked at me. “Well, Jerrod. If you are not dizzy any more, would you go get my buggy?,” she said. I got up for the first time since we had gotten back from the court house. Aside from a rather large dark bruise on my jaw, I was fine. “Be glad to , Miss Victoria,” I said “I can drive you ladies of you like?”

There was big doings at the Double J. Half the town had turned out to celebrate my freedom. Jake was there with his wife, welcoming everyone as they came in. A large pig had been roasting on a wood fire for hours and the guests gathered around the fire pit with anticipation of enjoying a fine dinner. I saw Judge Douglass, and assumed that the thin reedy woman with him was his wife. Scrub Pot was talking with Kane Wolf who was there with his wife and their three children who ran and played in front of the ranch house. There were a lot of people there all ready and it seemed that more were arriving as I drove Victoria’s Fancy Lady and the buggy up the lane. Victoria was looking around, and I knew she was hoping to catch sight of her husband, but Doc was not there. We were greeted by Jake and his wife J.W. I was surprised that she remembered me by name. After all I had only met J.W. Titus once and I hoped she was not going to ask me if I had read her latest book. I had long since abandoned my novel reading, there was no time for it these days.
“Well, Jerrod Bently,” Jake declared as he shook my hand. “Glad you could make it.’
“Doc packs a wicked punch,” I commented . I knew Titus was had not missed the action at the Court House. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Was necessary, boy,” he said “We both knew that Vickers aimed to kill you and we were ready for him.”
“Where is Doc?” I asked.
“He’s waiting for me inside,” Jake replied “Been here about ten minutes. We have some business to settle and then he will be joining party.”
Sam took my hand, “Come on Jerrod,” she insisted “I want you to see Wind Walker. They say he is the fastest horse in the territory.”
I watched Jake walk back toward his house as Sam led me to the barn. She wanted to show me Jake’s thoroughbred, the one everyone talked about. The famous race horse called The Wind Walker. Victoria and J. W. Titus disappeared into the crowd of folks milling about the tables set up in the front of the house.

Jake walked into his small office where Doc sat waiting. “You all right,?”, he asked.
Doc looked up him from the chair he was seated in. “Fine,” he said quietly “I gave that snake a chance to stand down, but he chose to take me on.”
“It was a legal shooting, Doc,” Jake replied “Now put it out of your mind. It is over and we have work to do.”
“I am taking Travis back to Texas myself,” Doc said as he sipped his lemonade. “Bently and I can handle him. He won’t be no trouble.”
“He’s an idiot,” Jake declared “ I did hear from his brother while you were away.”
“Where is he?”
“California.,” Jake replied “Got a letter from him and Frances, and they have sold the Bradford Ranch and making a home near Senora. I was surprised, I’ve known Frances Bradford for years and never did I think she’d sell out and move away.”
“People change.,” Doc replied “Now what is so all fired important that it can’t wait till after we eat.”
Jake handed him the letter he had received from New York. “Read it,” he said. Doc took a moment to read the letter and then set it down on the desk.
“You taking this job, Jake?”, he asked .
“I am,” Jake replied and I am putting the Double J up for sale. You said you wanted a ranch, Doc and I have worked this one since we came here. It’s good stock and good land, but our life is back East and we hope to be gone by fall.”
“You are offering me The Double J?”
“I am,” Jake replied “Don’t want to sell to a stranger like Frances Bradford did. I’d like to know that the place was in the hands of someone who will run it and keep it like we have. You and Victoria could make a good life here.”
Doc looked Jake Titus straight in the eye. “Lets talk some business. You know I want the place, and I am good for the price too, but there is one thing you have to do for me, if we agree on this.”
“What is that?” Jake asked.
“Not a word to Victoria,” he said sternly “That way if anything goes wrong, she won’t be disappointed.”
“Fair enough,” Jake replied “Do you know when you will be heading back to Texas?”
“As soon as the doc says Sam can ride.” Doc replied “She’s healed real well and having Jerrod here with her has been better than I’d hoped for. I expect in the next week or so. “
”I will draw up the papers, and we will get things started. When you get back, we will make it official.”
Jake and Doc shook hands. “When you get back, we will settle things and the ranch is yours,” Jake said “And J.W. and I will be heading on to a new life back East.”
“It won’t be the same with you gone, Jake,” Doc replied.
“Let’s go join the party,” Jake suggested as he started for the door.
One more thing, Jake,” Doc said as he put his hat back on. “I’d still like to keep this a secret from my wife. I’d like it to be a surprise when the time is right.”
“Sure, Doc,” Jake said with a wide grin. “Your secret is safe with me.” With their business settled, they walked outside to join Jake’s guests.


Heading Home

We’d won a victory. Doc was more than ready to get Ned Travis out of his jail and his life, and Sam was itching to go home. I was too, and maybe somewhere among all those miles that lay between Portersville and an obscure Indian settlement called Bear Claw in Texas, maybe she would tell me what I wanted to hear. Down by the Mercantile, Scrub Pot’s wagon was being loaded with provisions for our journey, his mules and our horses were fresh shod and rested. We spent a good portion of our last day there cleaning and oiling guns and the time to leave was now only a matter of hours away now.

“It is too dangerous, Victoria,” Doc stated “I have to deliver my prisoner to the authorities in Waco and God only knows what we are going to run into back in Grant’s Creek. I won’t risk it, you have to stay here and run the shop.”
Though her temper was beginning to boil, Victoria Stevens chose to remain calm and reasonable. “Is it because I am a woman, that you think I will slow you and Jerrod down?” Doc turned from the window and looked at her. “It’s too dangerous, Victoria,” he said flatly “You are not going with me.”
“J.W. has always taken over the shop for me when I have been out of town,” she said “My mare is in fine shape. Fancy is good for a long ride. Besides, Sam may need me.” That got his attention and Doc yielded his stubborn resolve. “Sam is a wrangler, Honey,” he said “She grew up among the Blackfoot. She knows how to take care of herself.”
“And you think I don’t?”, Victoria replied.
“I didn’t say that, Victoria.,” Doc argued “I ...”
“Doc,” his wife interjected, cutting him off. “I have taken care of myself too for a long time. I just want to be with you and Sam and Jerrod. We have become a family and....”
“All right,” Doc said throwing up his hands as though surrendering to her, “But the first sign of trouble and you and Sam go back. Understand?”
Victoria got up from her chair and went to him, putting her arms around him. “There won’t be any trouble,” she said “we have you, Jerrod and Scrub Pot to protect us.”
Doc smiled down at her “You can count on that,” he said .
“I know,” she whispered back.

Sam and I sat on the front porch of the cottage, waiting for the fire works we expected, yet nothing happened. We’d hardly heard them as no one seemed to have raised his or her voice. “What do you think?”, I asked in a whisper “I figured they’d been fighting by now.”
“She probably won,” Sam replied “There is no way Aunt Victoria was not going to be riding with us when we leave.”
“Good,” I replied “I don’t think I could take another long ride with your grandfather cooking again.” She elbowed me in the ribs and just about knocked me off the step. “His cooking wasn’t that bad,” she said.
“Well, Sam honey, it wasn’t that good either.” I defended.

Those weeks I’d spent in Portersville were the best of my life. I was with Sam and she had made a complete recovery. We courted under her uncle’s watchful eye and Victoria’s gentle encouragement. I asked her to marry me several times, yet she had said nothing. I had to be patient, and pray that one day she would say yes. She leaned close to me and I slid my arm around her back. She lay her head on my shoulder. “I am so glad that you are here, Jerrod,” she said quietly “When I got on Trouble the other day, I have to admit I was a little nervous, but having you there encouraged me.” I drew her closer and kissed her on the cheek. “You had to do it in your own time,” I said “ Those horses are your life and always have been. You could not survive without them or them without you.”
“I know,” Sam replied “And I love you for understanding that.”
“Remember when you taught me how to ride?”
“Yes.”, she giggled “and you thought I was a boy.”
“I had my suspicions,” I confessed “and really, you were not all that convincing.”
“I kept my hat on.”
“What gave you away was that you never took it off and you never shaved.” She burst out laughing “Did you ever see my grandfather with a razor and mirror?”
“No,” I answered “And may be the idea of Scrub Pot with a straight razor would not be a good one at all.”
“Jerrod,” she laughed “Blackfoot men do not have beards to shave. As far as I know none of our men do.”
“So you think you had me fooled then?”
“At the time, I hoped I had,” she answered.
“You know, Sam,” I said as I smoothed her dark hair away from her cheek. “When I got to Grants Creek and signed on with the drive, I met your grandfather and Doc both in the same day and they each told me to “Stick with Sam Dodge,”
“And you did,” she said quietly “and when I needed you the most, you were there.”
“Sam,” I said “I fell in love with you the day the mules ran away with the chuck wagon and your hat fell off. I will never forget that beautiful long braid falling down you back like it did.”
“You never gave me up to the boys before it was time for me to do it myself either,” she said “I knew I could trust you.”
“But do you trust me, Sam?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then marry me.” She looked up at me with those brown eyes that could melt me down to a mere puddle and smiled that beautiful smile of hers and for a second I thought she might say yes. Instead she got up from our place on the steps “One day I will marry you, Jerrod Bently,” she said and then went into the house. Well that was almost the answer I wanted and it was going to be a long ride to Waco.

With Jake Titus taking over Doc’s duties as sherrif and his wife and daughter handling Victoria’s Bake Shop, we left Portersville. We were a likely looking lot with Doc and me leading the way, Scrub Pot, his mules , his wagon with Wakeeze following behind us and the womenfolk behind him. Sam’s dog Goldy danced along, sometimes next to Mud and me and other times hanging back with Sam and Victoria. He sometimes was joined by Scrub Pot’s dog, Diamond and the two would race off into the woods and come out a mile or so ahead of us. Doc had trussed Ned Travis up like a prize hog, and thrown him into the back of Scrub Pot’s wagon. He was not going to escape but his constant complaining was starting to get on everyone’s nerves.. I thought cold cocking Ned would be a good idea, but kept such thoughts to myself. Scrub Pot drove the mules along, his usual sour look on his face, and soon enough, he would have enough of it and put the fear of God into our prisoner. Then Ned might shut his pie hole and we would be able to ride on in peace. I turned in my saddle and looked back, to check on the women.
Victoria, mounted on her paint mare, rode next to Sam. That horse of her’s moved like none I had ever seen before. At a trot, if Victoria had been carrying a glass of water in her hand, none would have spilled. Sam said that little paint was a gaited horse. Of course at the time that meant little of nothing to me. I had mastered riding a cutting horse over the months we were on the trail and Mud and I understood one another right well. We were on our way home and somewhere between the border and Waco, I hoped that Sam to answer my proposal. She rode passed me and winked. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met but she was far more than just that.


THE Uprising Of 1875

Bear Claw , Grant County Texas


Doc seemed relieved to be leaving Waco. He had turned Ned Travis over to the authorities there and spent some time with a few of his old friends from his days with the Texas Rangers. I’d met them, heard their stories and saw how they all tried to convince Doc to return to their company. Doc never said yes, but he didn’t say no either. He told his former captain, a man called Jim Cransford, that he was happy with his job in the Oklahoma Territory. His fellow rangers wanted to know what had happened to Joe Dodge and talked in hushed tones about someone called Emilo Caldero. I went about my business then, as this seemed to be something private between the rangers and Doc Stevens. Who this Caldero fellow might have been, I had no idea, but from the look on Doc’s face when the name was mentioned, I sensed he was someone Doc might like to put in the ground if he had the chance.
The ride up from Waco ended at a small Indian settlement a few miles outside of Grant’s Creek. It was not a reservation, as I understood those places to be, it was like a small community of Natives, some of the people were Blackfoot, but there were members from other tribes too and it all was headed up by Wolf Standing, their chief. With all the trouble between the Indians and the whites, it was hard to comprehend how a place like this could coexist in peace with a town the size of Grant’s Creek. When I asked Sam about it all she said was “The Lord moves in strange ways.” and left it at that. She would explain all that to me later on, for right now the task of getting settled was at hand. The sun was setting when we rode into Bear Claw and seeing two small log cabins with a lean-to style barn and paddock behind them was a welcome sight to all. Scrub Pot halted his team, set the break and climbed down from the seat of the wagon. He looked around himself, then walked to the door of the first cabin and pushed it open. “No coyotes this time!,” he called back over his shoulder to Sam and I heard her laugh as she slid out of her saddle.
“Who lives here, Doc?”, Victoria asked her husband as she dismounted and loosened Fancy’s girth. Doc grinned at her from the back of his horse. “This my sweet wife, is my bachelorhood home.,” he said as he swung down. “Better let me go inside first. It’s been a while and I don’t know if there are any critters in there or not.”
Thinking of the skunk her husband shot the day after their wedding, Victoria began to giggle. “And what is so funny, Missus Stevens,” Doc inquired as he crossed to the front door of the cabin.
“Nothing,” Victoria grinned as she pulled her saddle bags from the back of her horse. “Just thinking about your first day as my husband and Sherrif of Portersville.”
Doc walked inside the small two room cabin, hoping that there was not going to be a confrontation with some wild animal who’d taken up residence since his departure, especially another pole cat. He reached for a rusty lantern that hung by the door and pulled his match case from the pocket of his dungarees , then lit the wick inside. As the flame sputtered to life, he looked around. The cabin was the same as he’d left it. Victoria walked in behind him and to take a look for herself. There was dust everywhere, and the cabin smelled musty. “Well,” she said as she looked around at the simple furnishings and four bunks against the wall. “It will do, but it sure needs a good cleaning.” Doc nodded his agreement as he walked across the front room to where a canvas curtain separated it from the second one. He pulled it aside and looked in, raising the lantern. He was smiling when he turned back to his wife. “Give me those bags, Honey,” he said “This is our room!” Doubtfully Victoria handed him the saddle bags and taking the lantern from him, took a look at the room. Behind the curtain was a beautifully carved four poster bed with a feather mattress and colorful Indian blankets on it. It was far more rustic than what she was used to, but after so many days in the saddle, Victoria thought it would be perfect, until she could get on with giving Doc’s cabin a “woman’s touch.”


In a little while, there were fires going in the fire places of each cabin and lights in the windows. The horses were fed and turned out in the corral. Best of all Victoria Stevens was cooking, and did it ever smell good!! I was staying in Doc’s cabin, and the Jax brothers would be joining us at some point and probably John Prince too. Sam and her grandfather were now at home. She was happy and I could tell how much she loved this place from the moment we rode in. I was helping Scrub Pot unload the essentials from his wagon when company arrived. It was Wolf Standing on his white horse and Little Fox on a black and white paint. Scrub Pot went to him, grasping his hand , and spoke to him in the language of the Blackfoot. All of a sudden, the chief was laughing until tears flowed down his face. “I am glad she liked the mare,” he said in broken English. Then he gestured to his son. “You must tell Sam that you will marry another,” he said.
Had I heard that right? Did I have cause to be jealous? Was this handsome looking young Blackfoot warrior a rival? If Sam Dodge was going to have a husband, it was going to be me, no matter what I had to do. I was relieved as I set down the large sack of flour I was carrying and saw a young woman ride in behind the two men. Later I would find out that she was Lillie Greyhorse, the soon to be bride of Little Fox and that set right well with me. We rested for a few days. I got acquainted with some of the folks and met many of Sam’s friends. The women of the village were fascinated by Victoria Stevens, especially her long blonde hair. She and Sam braided their locks like the other women and Sam could translate what they were saying for her. They had many questions about cooking the way Victoria did and Sam did her best to help them understand. Everyone got along well and seemed very happy to see Scrub Pot and his family back home again. When I woke up early that Sunday morning and looked out the window next to my bunk and saw the people of Bear Claw all assembling in front of Scrub Pot’s cabin. At first I thought something was wrong, and I got up and dressed quickly. Sam was sitting on the step of the cabin as though she had been waiting for me for a while. “Good morning, Jerrod,” she said with a smile as she rose to her feet. I put my arms around her and kissed her on the forehead. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Church,” she replied “Grandfather is going to preach. ” She grasped my hand. “Come on. I want us to have a good seat.” I looked around , seeing mostly the Indians, but there were a few of the folks from town too. “He preaches a good sermon,” Sam assured me as we joined the congregation. I was amazed when the old man stepped out of his cabin and began what turned out to be a traditional Sunday service.

+++++++++++++++


There was business to be settled with Roger Hinkley. Doc, Scrub Pot and I were with Sam when she rode out to the Flying S to meet with him. The man seemed mighty surprised to see her too, and quite worried when he saw the three of us behind her. He was cordial enough when he invited us in to the ranch house, because he undoubtedly sensed that he was about to get what was coming to him. Yes, that was true, and it wasn’t just money from the sale of the cattle either. Sam was cool and calm when she sat down with the man and handed him all the papers and set the sack of cash from the sale of the cattle on the table between them. “There you are, Mr. Hinkly,” she said “You are now paid in full. Not only for the herd, but the other half of what I owed to you on the ranch. Now, if you would get the necessary papers out, we can sign them and be done with this.”
Hinkly had not expected this and he stuttered and backed up. “Well, Miss Dodge,” he said as he reached for the money, “I don’t have those papers or the deed.”
“Where are they?”, Scrub Pot asked. “Misplaced perhaps?”
The man was afraid of Indians and one in his parlor was particularly disconcerting. “No.”, he said “They are at the bank. I can’t get them until Monday morning.”
“That ain’t good enough, Hinkley.,” Doc interjected as he swept the money bag up off the table “Sam is here to pay you off as agreed., and by the way, your man Travis is in jail down in Waco.”
Roger Hinkly looked up at him, trying to conceal his fear of this man’s reputation. “Doc,” he said “I don’t know what you are talking about. I don’t employ anyone by that name.”
“May be not now.,” Doc growled “But you did.”
“You have to give me that money,” Hinkley stated, “It’s mine. All of it.”
“You will get your money when Sam gets those papers and the deed,” I said as Sam got up from the chair. “By high noon on Monday, Mr. Hinkly,” she said “Or there will be repercussions you might not like.”
“Is that a threat, Miss Dodge?”, he glared.
“Take it anyway you like,” Sam replied “I will expect to see you at noon sharp on Monday.”
“You can’t take my money!”, Hinkley shouted angrily, but changed his tone abruptly when he saw Doc undo the gun strap on his holster. “Monday, Hinkley,” he said with a threat in his eyes. Hinkly looked up at me. “What about you Bently?”, he said “I brought you in on all of this. You owe me,”
“Monday,” I stated firmly “and you best make good on all your dealings.” We left, with him shouting and screaming after us. Sam should have been livid, but she was very calm, and keeping her temper under control. She was up to something, and whatever it was, if it meant putting that two bit low life in his place, I was with her all the way. Well, Saturday and Sunday passed and we rode back to Grants Creek to meet Hinkly at the bank. It was high noon according to Doc’s gold watch and there was no sign of the man. “Give him another half hour,” Sam said as she sat down on the bench outside the bank. “If he doesn’t show I am going back to Bear Claw and talk to Little Fox and his friends about something I may need their help with.” Doc looked at his niece, his eyes narrowing “What are you up to Sam?”, he inquired. I had to keep my mouth shut because she had told me what she was planning and if it worked, by morning, she would have her papers signed, her deed in hand, Hinkly would be in jail and we would all move onto the Flying S as planned. Well, Hinkley never did show his face. Sam had kept her word, but he hadn’t and very soon it was time for him to face the consequences of his not so intelligent decision.
Bear Claw was roughly six miles South of town and when we got there, our horses lathered and heaving, Sam caught up with Little Fox and his soon to be brother in law , Turtle Back. “I need your help,” she told him.
“Sure, Sam,” the boy replied “What can I do for you?”
“I want to put together a raiding party, and scare Hinkly off my ranch,” she said flatly.
“Wait a minute, Sam,” Little Fox cautioned “We have lived here for years and years, I was born here and so were you. I am nearly twenty one and I do not remember anything but my father keeping peace here and insisting on it. There haven’t been any problems between us and the people of Grants Creek ever that I can recall.”
“Not a real raid ,” Sam explained “We don’t do anything that will get anyone hurt or in trouble.”
Little Fox shook his head “I don’t know Sam. My father won’t like it.”
“At least hear me out, then we will go talk to Wolf Standing,” she said. “Roger Hinkley is stalling and has not left the Flying S as we agreed when I bought it. I have the money to pay him off and his cattle were delivered to market and sold as we agreed, but he still refuses to give me the deed to the ranch. I am not a married woman, so he thinks he has a legal right to stay but I want him gone. He is a low down skunk.”
“You aren’t the only one who thinks that of Hinkley,” Little Fox replied “He’s not accepted here.”
“The reason he never shows up here is because he is terrified of Indians,” Sam replied “He gets real nervous around my grandfather and even me.” Suddenly Little Fox realized that he could help Sam get this weasel off her land.
“I think understand what you want to do,” he said with a sly grin. “How many drovers came back from Kansas with Scrub Pot and Jerrod Bently?”
“Ely, Floyd and John Prince.” she replied.
“Any of them look Indian?”, Little Fox asked.
“Well,” she said “Does it really matter? I want this to take place in the middle of the night.”
“Even better!”. Little Fox declared slyly, a wide grin on his handsome face. “With four of your men, you, me, Turtle Back, Lillie and her cousin Ellen, we will make a fine band of warriors.”
“We need at least ten and all of us mounted,” Sam said.
“That will not be any trouble.” Little Fox replied “and Lillie can make your boys look like us. I have never used war paint in my life, but I ‘d like the chance to see how I look in it,” he added.
“This will get Hinkly off my ranch.”
“Guaranteed,” Little Fox replied with a confident smile.

++++++++++++++++


Roger Hinkly was desperate. His plans for disposing of Sam Dodge had failed and he had not even come close to finding the treasure supposedly on the property that soon would no longer belong to him. Once Sam married, legally he would be forced to honor the agreement he made with her and sign the Flying S over. She had full filled her part of the contract when the cattle were delivered to market in Abiline. He still had the deed to the property and the papers drawn up regarding the sale of the ranch, but he had not signed them yet. Sam had Hinkley’s share of the money and was willing to pay him, her crew was ready to move on to the ranch but Hinkly refused to sign or honor his part of the bargain. He wanted his money, and that Spanish treasure lost somewhere on the property , so legend said. But he also knew he did not have a leg to stand on. He had underestimated Sam Dodge, thinking her to be a stupid girl he could dupe or dispose of. His hired gun, Ned Travis was locked up in a Waco jail and it was only a matter of time before he started talking about their sinister dealings and then he would be sent to prison for conspiring to commit murder. But a man like Roger Hinkly never would think about cutting his losses and moving on, or doing the right thing by honoring the deal he’d made. He was desperately trying to find a way to not have to honor any of it. He pondered such things as he sat in the parlor of the log ranch house and drank his whisky, trying to come up with a new plan. He thought of riding out to Three Forks and getting a lawyer to help him. Yes, that was it, a lawyer, like that Jake Titus he ‘d heard so much about since Doc Stevens had come back to town. Doc’s presence worried Hinkley too, because he’d heard the talk about him being a law man again. Too bad this Jake Titus was so far away, to far away to help him. The more he drank the less important his plan became. When Esparanza, the old Mexican widow who had been the cook for the Flying S for years found him the next morning, he was hunched over in his chair, snoring like a buffalo and in a drunken stupor. She was disgusted by the smell of stale liquor, but she had become used to it since Hinkley had taken over the Flying S. She gave him a glare of sheer disapproval as she picked up the empty bottles and glasses. As much as she disliked him, she silently prayed for him anyway and tried to think as she had been taught, that everyone is loved by God, even a drunken scalawag like Roger Hinkely. There would be no trip to Three Forks and no lawyer either. Hinkely chose the bottle over his plans and there he sat, passed out and totally unaware of what was about to happen once the sun set over the Flying S Ranch.

Now over the summer, I’d kind of forgotten about my hair. There were no barbers along the trail, and the only one I’d seen was that lady one back in Portersville and I had been meaning to go, but I just didn’t. Sam seemed to like my long haired cowboy look, so I’d left it go and now it had grown down to my shoulders. But no matter how hard Sam tried, there was no way she was ever going to make me look like a Blackfoot warrior. The only one of us who even remotely looked convincing was Ely Jax, but those blue eyes of his gave him away, the minute he looked at me. I couldn’t believe that Doc and his wife wanted in on this crazy plan of Sam’s, but there they were sitting by Wolf Standing’s counsel fire as Lillie Greyhorse carefully platted Victoria’s long golden hair into warrior’s braids, feathers and all. No matter what Victoria Stevens wore, even in buckskins and war paint, she looked good. I knew Doc was proud of her, and he had every right to be.
I never took notice of the way Ely had quit watching Sam all the time and was enjoying having Ellen Greyhorse, Lillie’s cousin help him with his war paint. It might have been a little easier on me if I’d taken note of that, and may be later on down the road I wouldn’t have broken his nose over a misunderstanding, but that had not happened yet, and I was here, suffering through Sam’s artistic attempts to make me look convincing. She painted black and red streaks on my face . “Hold still,” she ordered.
“That stuff stinks,” I protested. She just laughed and painted my other cheek with red and black. She stepped back and took a good look at me as I sat there on the ground. “Once you get your shirt off, you will probably look more like a warrior than Jerrod Bently,” she said. I glared at her. Nights were getting chilly now that we had entered into fall. “I have to ride half naked?”, I complained. She raised her hand and shushed me. “You will look so handsome, like this Jerrod,” she said “I might just have to marry you after all.”
“Marry me?” Did she say that? If Sam Dodge would marry me I’d ride into a blizzard in the dead of winter without my shirt if she wanted me to. But I didn’t hear her say “yes” to my proposal.
“What about Ely,” I asked trying to keep the jealousy out of my words. She painted a black streak across my forehead. “What about him?” she questioned as she wiped the greasy paint off her fingers with a rag. I didn’t push the issue,. She ‘d mentioned us getting married for the first time since Portersville.
“Ely is a good friend” she said as she began to streak her own face with war paint. “So is his brother Floyd.” I let it rest. In less than an hour we would be riding out to deal with Roger Hinkley.

Hinkley made his first worst decision to not meet Sam and me at the bank, the second one was when he decided that he needed a drink to settle his nerves. He could have sworn that earlier that day he had seen two Indians looking at him through the window of his parlor. He’d been in the outhouse too and felt like someone might be outside the closed door, but he could not see through the half moon cut in the door. When he came out he found the moccasin prints in front of the door. Now I will never know how Little Fox and Lillie could move so fast and so silently that he never saw them, but their appearance on the Flying S had had the right effect on Hinkely. If he was afraid of Indians, he was terrified by now.
Wolf Standing had misgivings about giving his youngest son permission to carry this “raid” out, and he had only given it because of Doc and Scrub Pot being involved. He did not want any trouble with the locals as he and his followers and friends had lived in peace with the people of Grants Creek for many years. Doc gave everybody their last minute instructions before we mounted up. I have to say, Sam was impressive dressed like she was in buck skins and war paint, a feathered lance in her hand. She was Blackfoot all right, so question about it. She had Trouble on a single rein, as she led him up to the circle of people gathered around Doc Stevens. “All right,” he stated “Everybody listen up. The only shooting that is going to take place will be into the air. This is just for affect. No shooting at anybody or any of the live stock. We need lots of noise, and Little Fox and Sam will lead the raid. All the time, he talking, he was wiping war paint on his own face and had taken off his hat. “Once we get Hinkley out of the house, I want all of you to ride back to Bear Claw, clean up and act like nothing happened if we get asked. .”
Everyone was in agreement, except Victoria. “Doc,” she said “I don’t have a gun.”
“Don’t need one,” Doc replied “Just ride with me. You will be safe.”
She walked up to him and put her arms around him. “I need your gun, honey,” she said as she carefully reached down and pulled his Colt out of his holster. A second later, she turned and fired over his shoulder , hitting the rusted weathervane on top of Scrub Pot’s cabin. The weathervane clanged and spun wildly with the effect of the bullet. Doc was amazed as he stared at his wife. “Who taught you to shoot like that?”
“Jake Titus,” she said proudly “He felt a woman alone needed to know how to handle a gun.”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s but,” he declared.
“You want your gun back, Doc?”, she asked.
“No,” he said “You use it. I have the other one and my rifle.”
Everyone was going for their horses. I was riding Desert Rose tonight, as Mud had thrown a shoe and was in the paddock behind the cabin. We mounted up, Sam on Trouble and me on Rose. That was when she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I love you, Jerrod,” she whispered and then kicked the stud. He responded with a hot launch into a dead run. I was behind her in seconds, and that mare was matching Trouble stride for stride. It was like flying. I hoped we didn’t lose our feathers by the time we were ready to “raid” Roger Hinkly.
Between Bear Claw and the back forty acres of The Flying S Ranch, there were some odd looking rock formations, and a thick stand of trees by the edge of a large pond. It was by those rocks we were to meet and commence with our plan. Playing on Roger Hinkley’s fears was the only real weapon we needed. Little Fox reported that he and Lillie had left the man with his nerves on edge. Sam and I were the first to arrive, but in the expanse of about half a hour or so, other“raiders” began to trickle in. I looked up at the rocks that rose above us, and that was when I saw him, and I was awestruck by the sight. It was Scrub Pot mounted on his paint. Gone were the dungarees and rusty colored shirt he usually wore and gone was his signature grey hat. He was dressed as a Blackfoot war chief in full regalia , war paint, lance and all. Wakeeze was wearing colorful feathers in his black mane and a single rein came from the corner of his mouth. Around his blue eyes were a series of markings made with war paint. He looked young again, as did his rider. Sam’s dark eyes filled with tears of pride as she gazed up at her grandfather on the ledge above us. I realized how truly special this man was in the way that he had lived his life as a man of God, yet never truly lost his proud heritage to the ways of the new American West. He smiled down at his grand daughter. “Siksika,” he said . Sam wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her deer skin tunic. “Siksika,” she answered. Then he began speaking to us in his native language. Some words I understood, others I didn’t, but when I heard Sam say “Amen” with him I realized they had prayed for safety in the Blackfoot tongue.
“You look like a real warrior, Jerrod Bently,” the old man said “But not quite Blackfoot.”
“Thanks,” I said “That’s a pretty impressive get up you’ve got on, Scrub Pot.”
He laughed. “You see me as I was when I was young,” he said “It was many years ago, and if we are to be convincing, we must have a war chief.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++


There were fifteen of us assembled by the pond. We were a sorry looking mix of real Indian warriors and those like me who were ‘staged” as Victoria called it. Sam was loving every minute of it while Doc and Scrub Pot were giving us our final instructions and again warned us that there would be server consequences if anyone caused injury or real damage to anyone or anything on the ranch. “We just want to get Hinkely out of there,” Doc said “and all it will take is just a little persuasion. There was giggles and laughter among the ranks as he spoke. “ As far as we know, he is alone out there with only the cook.” he added “About a hundred feet behind the ranch house is a garbage pit. That is the only thing we are setting fire to. That ought to get his attention.”
“Sam,” Scrub Pot said “You, Jerrod and Little Fox lead everyone in. Circle the house and make lots of noise. “Can I throw my lance into the dirt in front of the house?”, she asked.
“Nice touch,” Doc replied as he glanced over at his wife, who sat quietly on Fancy, listening and watching all that was going on around her. She was now wearing his other Navy Colt in a leather holster and he smiled. Victoria was full of surprises. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a bottle that said “Coal Oil” on the label and walked over to Sam and handed it up to her. “This what you wanted from my cabin?”, he asked. She grinned at him. “Yes,” she replied “Thanks.” I was suddenly horrified. “Sam , No body starts a trash fire with coal oil,” I said.
“Relax, Jerrod,” she said as she pulled the blackened cork out of the bottle and held it out for me to sniff. “It’s water.” I did not dare ask her what it was for, but I had a feeling I would be finding out soon enough.
Scrub Pot was looking at Victoria. She smiled back at him as he eased his horse up along side of her brown and white paint. “You are not convincing, Victoria,” he said.
“What do you mean?”, she asked. He took stock of her deer skin jacket , war paint and all. “It is your hair.” he said “The color is wrong. Put your braids under your hat. “
”Oh,” she said “I never thought of that.” She did as he suggested and pulled her hat down tight. Scrub Pot smiled “Yes, “ he said “That will do the trick.”
Little Fox rode up to Scrub Pot. “For tonight, you are our chief,” he said “Lead us into battle.” And so he would. This was going to be like the wild Indians who performed in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show only this time I was part of it and I was riding a real Indian pony. It had been said of Desert Rose that she was the fastest horse Sam owned. I had well learned that on the few occasions I had been on her back. That mare could fly.
Roger Hinkely had sobered up some, but his foul mood and shouting for the cook to bring him food and more whisky only served to make the old woman angry. “I quit!,” she shouted “I will not work for a lying drunkard!” and she stormed out of the house, got on her grey donkey and rode away. She would spend the night with her son and daughter in law in town. It was good that the old woman decided to end her employment at the Flying S, for had she stayed, she’d have found herself smack dab in the middle of an Indian raid. No point in scaring the stuffing out of an innocent old widow woman.

Hinkley nervously paced around his house. He’d stepped out on the porch a few times and looked around, but went back inside. Had he seen Indians? He couldn’t be sure, and when he had gone back to the outhouse to look at that mocassin prints, he’d seen in front of the door, it was gone. “I have to quit drinking,” he told himself . But the whisky called to him from it’s place on the sideboard in the dining room. He could not resist and went in to pour himself a shot. “Esparanza!!” he shouted , expecting to see the woman appear at the door of the kitchen. He was answered by silence. The ranch house was too quiet , even unnerving. He gulped down the whisky, but it did not seem to help. The smell of smoke from the rear of the house caused him to run out the back door toward the barn. That was the moment he saw a black and white paint horse appear before him rearing high into the air , slashing its hooves, and on its back, a Blackfoot war chief, his lance raised as he shouted in a language that was centuries old. As quickly as he had appeared he was gone. Then he heard us coming, and turned to see what appeared to be the entire area behind the house on fire. He never thought for a second that it was the garbage pit. Hinkely whirled around and fled to the house. The war whoops and shouts were terrifying as they were getting closer. He could hear the thunder of many hooves as he ran through the house looking for his rifle, but it was gone. Where had he put it? He had no idea that earlier it had been removed , along with every other fire arm in the house. It was just getting dark as we rode in and began to circle the house. Sam rode up to the front steps , her lance poised , Trouble prancing and dancing around as if he was really enjoying being dressed up as a war horse. Hinkely ran out onto the porch and froze when he saw her. She shouted something in her native tongue and threw down the lance, burying its stone head in the dirt at the foot of the steps. Then she turned her horse around and joined the rest of us as we circled the house, shouting and shooting into the air with our pistols and rifles. Roger Hinkley’s worst night mare had just come true and he knew he was about to die a horrible death at the hands of these “renegades.” There were no neighbors for miles around and Grants Creek was too far away, and even if there were neighbors, they would not have bothered with him anyway. Well, we made lots of noise, and Sam, Little Fox and I grabbed Hinkley and dragged him off to the barn. Doc and Victoria were already there waiting. We tied him up to one of the center support posts and left him there for a minute to think about what might happen to him. Sam had that bottle that said “Coal Oil” on the label and Doc had just taken a fresh cigar out of the pocket of his dungarees. “What do you want?”, Hinkley cried out, terrified by the sight of all the “Indians” gathering around just outside. Scrub Pot, now dismounted and leaving Wakeeze out side the barn door walked in. “You know what we want,” he said “You might have avoided this, had you just met us at the bank like you said you would.”
“I-I forgot,” Hinkley cried “I went there and you and the girl didn’t show up.”
“You are not only a low life, “ Sam said “You are a liar too. I want the deed to the ranch, Hinkley and all the papers signed. I might even give you the money you have coming to you.”
His eyes were filled with terror as she walked around him, looking at him and making sure he saw the bottle she held in her hand. I was biting my lip trying not to laugh, because I knew what she was going to do. She looked him in the eye. “Where is the deed?”
“I don’t have it,” he lied “But I can get it. Untie me and I will take you into town and we will get it.”
“No,” Sam said as she pulled out the black cork and began to sprinkle the water on him. In his terror, Hinkly was sure it was coal oil because there was just enough smell to it. “When the Spanish came to our land,” Sam began, they burned our people. It really is barbaric, but it was something my Grandfather’s tribe adopted and is part of our history. Me, I have never seen it done or heard of anyone doing it recently, but considering that you tried to have me killed, then to cheat me out of what is rightfully mine. Maybe the punishment should fit the crime?” He heard a match strike and smelled fresh cigar smoke.
“You are making me nervous, Sam.,” Doc said “When I get nervous I drop things, like this match. I just lit my smoke with. Sam threw the remaining contents of the bottle all over Hinkley as Doc came closer holding the still flaming match. “All right!!” Hinkley screamed “The deed is in the house. I have the papers. Please! Don’t kill me.! “
Sam laughed, “I had no intention of killing you.,” she said as Doc drew his gun. Hinkley heard it being cocked. “Jerrod,” she said “Untie him.” I did and the coward slumped to the floor of the barn, in tears of relief. Doc and I dragged him to his feet. “You have business to take care of,” Doc growled as he shoved his gun into the man’s ribs, and we marched him back to the house. “Once you make this right with Sam,” he added “We have a date with the sherrif in town.”
Everyone waited outside the ranch house. We had made our point. I never understood why Hinkley wanted to hold onto the place when in the beginning it seemed that he didn’t care about it at all. He’d seemed eager to sell out and get rid of the cattle. I’d find out the answer as to why later on, but for right now, I was happy and proud to stand by Sam as she watched Hinkley sign all the papers and hand over the deed. She turned to me and looked up at me with those beautiful dark eyes and smiled, war paint and all. “We are home, Jerrod,” she said. “Home.” She had said it and earlier in the evening she had hinted that she wanted to marry me. I slid my arms around my Indian Princess and kissed her. I loved her more than my own life, but she had not said “yes” yet. We watched Doc march Hinkley out the door and off to jail. All that remained to do was for us to move onto the ranch and get matters settled legally with the judge in Grant’s Creek. In order for Sam to be the legal owner of The Flying S, she had to be a married woman, and I kept praying for her to say yes and marry me. I had never wanted a woman more than I wanted her, to be with me for the rest of our lives. That night, all the wild Indians rode back to Bear Claw, and we spent our last night camped there at Doc’s log cabin and Scrub Pot’s. No one ever spoke of the “raid” again. It seemed that everybody looked the other way and were glad that Roger Hinkley would be on his way to prison with his accomplis Ned Travis.

++++++++++++

THE NEW HOMESTEAD

We moved on to the Flying S and work began to repair, rebuild and get ready for winter, as it was coming, no matter how warm it seemed in the autumn of 1875. I lay in my bunk at night in that old log bunk house daring to dream of the day I might be sharing a room in the ranch house with Sam. All I had to do was get her to say yes and we’d be married right away. I loved her more every day and knew that she was the only one I wanted to be with. Now across the bunkhouse floor was Ely Jax’s bunk and while his snoring kept me awake every night since the raid that resulted in Roger Hinkely’s incarceration, I had tried to be open minded. After all he was a friend, but where Sam was concerned, he was competition. To any woman, Ely Jax would have been a man to reckon with. He was good looking, strong, could ride , rope and was deadly with a six gun. Why, Ely was a real cowboy, and I’d see in town how the ladies just seemed to fall in line whenever he was around. Why wasn’t he keeping company with one of them? The answer was simple. He was after Sam, and it was me who was going to marry her, and he was just going to have to accept that. Now if I’d listened to Scrub Pot and trusted Sam and my own instincts instead of acting like a jealous fool, I might not have gone to our wedding wearing the scars of battle or having to attend to Ely whose eye so blacked that even beef steak didn’t help. He was no better, with his war wounds but at least we’d walked way from that fist fight over Sam, as friends. But that had not happened yet, and before I get ahead of myself, I better get into what led up to all of this between, me, Ely and my Sam.

It had been two or three weeks since we moved on to the Flying S and the judge was on his way from the next county to hear the case and to award ownership of the ranch to Sam and her husband. Just who that was going to be, had not been determined, but I was still praying and hoping for an answer. Every time I got my nerve up to talk to her about my proposal, something happened that prevented me from doing so. Then finally I made up my mind that I’d argued with myself enough and like Doc had said, “You will know the time, boy and then it will just come out.” I wondered how he’d proposed to Victoria, and when I’d asked, he just grinned that famous grin of his, and walked away. Well, I had to do it. So, I headed for the main house. It was all most sundown and Esparanza, the Mexican cook, would be ringing the dinner bell soon. I had not seen Sam since that morning. She was a little nervous about seeing the judge, since she wasn’t a married woman yet. I had plans to fix that right away if she was willing. Yes, sir. I was ready to ask the woman I loved to be my wife for the fourth time. I didn’t have a ring to give her, but this was the West and unlike New York, there was no jewelry store down the street , so I would just offer myself and hope that she would finally say yes. She had to say yes. I knew she loved me, even though she didn’t say it much, and I also knew she wanted to marry me, so I stepped up onto the front step of the ranch house porch, thinking of all the things I could say, but “Will you marry me Samantha Dodge,” was what came to the front of my thoughts. That was just like she was, no frills and to the point. Yes, that was my Sam. I heard the porch swing creaking, and figured she was sitting there like she had come to do in the evening. I was on the porch now and glanced to the left. There she was, but she was not alone. Ely Jax was sitting way too close to her, his arm resting on the back of the swing. She was looking at him, the same way she’d looked at me when I got back to Portersville. I could not hear their quiet voices, but when I saw Jax kiss her, I chose to walk away instead of making a scene about it. It seemed that Sam had made her choice and obviously it wasn’t me. I slunk away, feeling a little sick. But had I listened, I could have saved myself a lot of pain. I had seen her in his arms, kissing him. I wanted to kill Ely Jax, but that was not the way. I would back off and go home to New York and maybe forget Sam and all we had been through together and the love I thought we had shared.
“I understand, Ely,” Sam said as she settled back on the swing. “I was wanting to talk to you too, about Jerrod.”
“He loves you, Sam,” Ely said “and for months I have been trying to find away to convince you to marry me and not him. I love you too, but not in the same way he does. I did not understand that until I met someone else.”
Sam smiled back as the misty look in the young man’s blue eyes. “It’s strange , isn’t it,” she said “Some how from the day I met Jerrod I knew we’d be together one day. ”
Ely laughed “You sure put him through it,”, he said “But he never gave up, not one time and he learned fast. I will always admire him for that.”
He looked away for a moment , it was hard for him to think about Sam’s accident or to speak of it. “He saved your life,” he said quietly “a life well worth saving.” She smiled and reached out to take his hand. “Ely,” she said “It is all in the past. I am fine now, and it was because all of you were there and I knew you had faith. I am hoping Jerrod will bring up the subject again and then the ranch is ours. I love him, and I have been waiting for him to talk to me about us marrying, but he hasn’t. Not since Portersville.”
Ely lifted his hat from where it had been sitting on his knee and put it on his head. “I am sure he will,” he said “I am going to tell him to come and see you tonight. That is if he didn’t go into town with the rest of the boys.”
“I hope you and Ellen will be happy,” Sam said “I have known her family since I was a child. She comes from good people.”
“I love her Sam, and I am going to be a good husband to her as soon as I can afford to buy some land,” Ely said with conviction in his words. Sam smiled “Good luck, Ely,” she said. Then his arms were suddenly around her, and she leaned into his kiss feeling the fire and passion that would belong to someone else. Ely broke away, “Sam,” he said “I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”
She smiled “Good bye, Ely.” she said as he rose and walked away. He disappeared into the dusk and left Sam sitting on the swing alone. She felt to happy and excited when she thought of Jerrod Bently, and now that the air had been cleared between her and Ely Jax, there was nothing standing in the way of she and Jerrod being together for ever. She sat there on the swing for quite a while, waiting for him, but Jerrod never showed.
Disappointed, Sam rose and went into the house. Her grandfather sat on the floor in front of the fire place. “You must sleep, granddaughter,” he said , never moving from his place. “Tomorrow things will be settled and you must be alert and ready.”
Instead of climbing the stairs to her room, Sam deviated from her course and joined him by the warm fire that blazed in stone fire place. She sat down beside him.
“What troubles you, child?”, he asked as he reached out and touched her shining auburn hair.
“Jerrod,” she said quietly “I love him so much and surely by now he would have come to talk about us getting married, don’t you think Grandfather?” The old man chuckled quietly. “Have faith, Samantha Ann,” he said “he will come around.”


++++++++++++++++++++++

The Grant County Court House
Grants Creek, Texas


“The ranch is yours, Miss Dodge,” the judge said “Free and clear. Mr. Hinkley has signed over all rights and there are no leans.” It had been quiet in the court room, except for a few coughs and snickers. Everyone knew why Hinkley had signed. We had given him no choice and in his terror of dying and fear of Indians, the man never realized that the coal oil he thought was in that bottle Sam threatened him with, was only water. I sat in the front row of the jury box, next to Scrub Pot and Doc and watched her sign the papers that made the Flying S Ranch hers. Sam was happy, and I was happy for her. The dream of having a horse ranch had come true for her and she’d done it against odds that may be even some of the toughest men would have run from. She was smiling, as the clerk handed her the official deed to her property, but I felt like the bottom had fallen out of my life. I could have likened my state of mind to the rain that was pouring down outside and the nearly black sky. Sam walked over to us. “I guess that is all there is,” she said happily “Shall we go home?”
Home. It sounded good to me, but it was her home, not mine. I’d all most worked up the courage to asked her one more time, but when I saw her sitting on the porch swing with Ely, I figured that she would not want to hear it. May be I’d been fooling myself the whole time? I’d kept my promises. I’d seen her through the worst after the accident. I’d finished the drive and brought her the money that was due her when she was recovering in Portersville. I thought we were getting closer during the time we had spent in Portersville with Doc and Victoria. Sam was different there. She wanted me with her, and heck, I always wanted to be with her. Everyone seemed to approve of me courting her like I was, but there was Ely and I knew he was in love with her too. Well, there couldn’t be two of us so I decided it would be best that I take my good memories of the long hot summer of seventy five and return to New York. I could not work on that ranch along side her and not have her belong to me and me to her. I would tell her when we got back to the Flying S that I was going back East. Ely was Texan through and through. He was like Sam in many ways. Hard working, trustworthy and decent. I should have hated him, but I was better than that. I wanted Sam to be happy, and if it was to be with Ely Jax, then so be it. I was walking down the court house steps , pulling my slicker on when Scrub Pot caught up with me.
“You look like you have lost your last friend, Jerrod Bently,” he said . “What has happened? This morning I thought I might be welcoming you as a member of my family.”
“Scrub Pot.,” I said “I have made up my mind to go back to New York.”
The old man was thunderstruck as he stood there in the pouring rain, water dripping of the edge of his hat. “Y-you can’t do that Jerrod,” he said “What about Sam?”
“I love her, “ I admitted “But maybe that just isn’t enough. I want her to be happy and if that means me walking away, than that is what I am going to do.”
Strange expression crossed the old man’s face. He followed me to the hitching rail where Mud waited, soaked with the afternoon rain. “Walking away?”, Scrub Pot questioned. “What are you talking about?”
I checked the girth on my saddle “I am talking about your grand daughter and Ely Jax,” I said as I untied the wet reins and prepared to climb into the saddle. “I’ll scalp him!”, Scrub Pot stated with a deadly hiss in his words.
“No.”, I stated , “He’s in love with her and has been all along,”
“But she is not in love with him!,” Scrub Pot defended. I could tell that he was getting angry and that it might not be a good idea for Ely to cross paths with him right now.
“I think Sam has made her choice, “ I said quietly “and I won’t stand in the way.”
“ This is all wrong, and you are wrong.” the old man stated, “Come back to the ranch and get things straightened out with Sam. There has been a misunderstanding, and if you walk away, you are a fool, Jerrod Bently.”
I had not misunderstood what I had seen on the porch swing at the ranch house. She was in Ely’s arms and he was kissing her as though he was never going to see her again. Wait? Never see her again? What was that all about? Could the old man be right?
I did not want to get my hopes up. “I’ll see you back at the ranch,” I said as I got readty to get on my horse there in the muddy street.
“You find Samantha Ann, and you talk to her.,” Scrub Pot ordered “I am going to find Ely Jax.”
“What do you want with me?” We both turned around, and there he was standing on the court house steps. Now I have always liked to think of myself as a stable and reasonable man, but all I saw standing there in the rain was a rival for the woman I loved. I think Scrub Pot knew what was going to happen and he warned me to back down. I remember handing him my gun belt and taking the first punch that landed Ely Jax in the mud. Now I had learned to fight on the docks back in Port of New York. It was the way to stay alive, but I had never thrown a punch at a Texas cowboy before and when Ely got up, I was the one eating mud in front of the court house. We fought hard, exchanging blow for blow. His nose was streaming blood, and the rain kept coming down harder. I could feel my right eye swelling closed. Then I said it. “You can’t have her!” Ely held back for a minute. “She doesn’t want me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. We were both bleeding and plastered with mud. I felt someone grab me from behind and jerk me up fast and hard. “Enough!” Scrub Pot barked in my ear. Doc had Ely and the crowd that had gathered around us despite the pouring rain slowly began to disperse. “I told Sam good bye, Jerrod !” Ely shouted “You are crazy.! She doesn’t want me. She wants you.”
The words rolled over me like the pelting rain. That was when the whole world went black and I did not even remember hitting the ground. Sam had just walked out onto the steps and saw what was happening. She shouted my name.
“Sam , get back inside,” Doc ordered . “No!”, she shouted as she ran into the muddy street. The lightening flashed and the thunder roared around us. “Jerrod !,” she cried as she went to her knees in that sucking mud . I was still seeing stars , but I could feel her trying to wipe the blood and the mud off my face. She was crying, saying my name over and over again. I reached up and touched her face. “Can you get up?”, she asked. Scrub pot was hauling me to my feet, and slowly I got hold of my senses. Her arm went around me and I leaned on her a little. “I love you Jerrod Bently,” she stated “And I will not have you two fighting over me like two drunken Irishman!”
We made it to the buckboard where Doc had left it parked beside the court house. It was a little drier under the overhang of the roof. “I have something to ask you,” I said. “This may not be the best place. I just blacked both Ely’s eyes and probably broke his nose, or maybe he broke mine, but Samantha Ann Dodge. Are you ever going to marry me?”
She brushed back my sodden hair, her own sticking to her face in the rain and wind. “No,” she said “It is not the right place, or the right anything, Jerrod. And you are going to have to make it up to Ely, but I will marry you as soon as we can find a preacher.”
Scrub Pot joined us, soaking wet as he climbed into the back of the wagon. “I can help with that,” he said with a wide grin on his face. “But can we at least go back to the ranch and get out of this rain?”
“Good idea,” Doc chimed in as he climbed up onto the driver’s seat. “Victoria has dinner ready by now and I am ready to..” Sam cut him off “To give me away at my wedding, Uncle Elliott?,” she asked. The rain dripped off the front of his soaked black hat. “You want me to do that honey girl?”, he said, moved by what she had asked him to do. “Yes,” she answered. Doc gathered up the reins of the team and released the break on the buckboard. “Well Bently,” he drawled “I guess you didn’t get all the sense knocked out of you just now. Congratulations.” The buck board lurched forward. I held Sam in my arms, our feet hanging off the back of the wagon. Both of us soaked to the skin and covered with mud, and all I wanted to do was kiss her until. Well, all that would have to wait till after the wedding.
Scrub Pot sat up front next to Doc on the wooden wagon seat . “It has happened, Elliot,” he said “She will leave us now.”
“We always knew she would, Zachariah,” Doc replied “We brought her this far, now it will be up to her and Jerrod.”
“Who is going to write to your sister Lillie and tell her that Samantha is to be married ?,” Scrub Pot asked.
“You,” Doc designated as the rain began to slack off.
“Why me?”, Scrub Pot inquired “I have met her once and she was a cold fish.”
“Well, I figure that since she hates Indians, if you write her, she won’t come to Texas,” Doc replied “and we won’t have to put up with her.” Two old friends laughed, as they made their way home and two young lovers fell more in love with one another.
Ely Jax rode hard to get back to Bear Claw where he asked Wolf Standing for his niece, Ellen’s hand in marriage. It was over, Ely and I would become friends again. Sam would officially own the Flying S once we said our vows and I was the happiest man in the state of Texas.
The judge gave Sam thirty days to get a husband, and work continued on the Flying S. Doc hemmed and hawed over writing his sister, but when he got to thinking it over and talked to Victoria, he decided he would. Sam had a brother I’d never met, and since we were going to be in-laws, I thought we ought to at least size each other up. “Philadelphia blue noses” was what Doc called his sister and nephew, and he sure did not seem real happy about the telegraph message that came a few weeks after he posted his letter to one Mrs. Lillian Stevens-Black.
Our wedding was to be a simple affair. Me and Sam, the ranch hands, Doc and his wife, and of course Scrub Pot, who would be officiating. Well, that was what I thought, but I was about to find out differently. I guess that during those days after the raid, after Hinkly went to jail and we’d moved onto the ranch, all I cared about was doing my job and spending time with Sam. I figured plans for a wedding were for the womenfolk to see too. We were happy and finally, Texas had begun to feel like home.


Philadelphia, Pennsylvania


“Miss Lillie,” the maid said quietly as she lightly knocked on the door of her employers private study. “Mister Brian says he won’t be back till late. The Constable’s mare is going to foal. He said he won’t be here for dinner.”
The door of the room opened and a tall thin woman with her salt and pepper grey hair piled on the crown of her head , glared at the girl. “Essie,” she said in a tone of disapproval “How many times have I told you to deliver a message to me privately, not through the door for the whole house to hear!”
“Sorry, Miss Lillie,” the girl replied “But Doctor Dodge, being over to the Constable’s barn ain’t all.”
Lillie Stevens-Black rolled her eyes “Use proper English, girl!,” she instructed in a critical tone“isn’t all, Not “ain’t all.”
“Yes Ma’am”, the girl replied her blue eyes down cast. “I am sorry.” She hated the constant corrections and criticisms while trying to do her job. She offered a sealed envelope to her mistress. “The postman brought it just a few moments ago,” she said . Lillie took it from her and scrutinize the hand writing through the eye glasses that were perched on the end of her nose. “Texas?”, she said mostly to herself. She had not thought about Texas or the past she had left there for many, many years. “That will be all, Essie,” she said, dismissing the girl as though she did not matter at all. The maid walked away silently promising herself that as soon as her bank account was big enough she was going to tell Mrs. Lillian Stevens-Black to go the blazes and head to California. “The old bat,” she said to herself. The only saving grace of working in this woman’s household was her friendship with Lillie’s nephew, Dr. Brian Dodge. “Horses,” Lillie had hissed in distaste “Always horses, especially with Samantha! I thought I would be the laughing stock of Philadelphia when Brian went to school to become a Horse Doctor!”
Brian Dodge had let his aunt’s disappointment roll off his back when he graduated from the local medical college with honors. Two years later, the young veterinarian was one of the most successful men in his field. He never talked about his past or his heritage, as his aunt would not allow it. Her worst nightmare was having her Philadelphia society friends learn that her nephew was one fourth Blackfoot Indian and that his sister was not in school in Europe, but back in Texas with “the savages”. However, he was making a fine income, and Lillie was happy about that. Her late husband’s gambling debts had nearly left her destitute. These things were far from her mind as she sat down at her desk, the letter in her hand. “Elliot.,” she said to herself. How long had it been since she had heard anything of or from her brother. Now here was a letter from him. They had not spoken, written of visited one another in many years. When Sam ran away to Texas to be with her Grandfather, Lillie had expected Doc to side with her and bring Sam back East. It had not turned out that way. Samantha Ann Dodge was indeed a proper young lady, she was smart, honest, had good manners was educated but that was not good enough according to Lille’s way of life, or how she had hoped to raise her dead sister’s two children. Sam’s life was with her Grandfather in Texas and that was where she was happy. Doc refused to send her back and they had not spoken since. Lillie took her letter opener off the top of her blotter and slit the envelope to pull out Doc’s letter.

Dear Lillie:

It has been a long time. I probably should have written you years back, but I just didn’t. I want you to know that Sam turned out very well. She is a beautiful young woman and a person Sarah and Joe would be proud of. I know I sure am. At times when she looks at me I see our dear sister in her face. I hear Sarah in her voice some times too and it is a comfort to me. I have remarried. My bride is a wonderful woman , Victoria Stevens, we are married six months now. However, sister. I am not writing to tell you about myself, it is about Sam. She is to be married very soon to a fine young man from New York. I thought you might like to know.

Your brother,
Elliot Stevens

Lillie smiled as she folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. A fine young man from New York. That was good news as she ran over the list of society names she knew from there. Then she frowned. Her brother never mentioned who Sam’s intended was. “Well, if he is a man from New York, he is probably a business man,” she said to herself, “Probably a cattle buyer if he was in Texas. While she waited for her nephew to return home that night, she cooked up a story to tell at her friend’s tea party on Sunday. She could see herself as the center of attention. “Of course you remember my niece, Samantha Ann,” she mused “She is my late sister’s only girl, God rest her soul. She has been away at school these last five years and now she is getting married! Her fiancee is from New York, a cattleman.” It would sound better if she knew a name for the man. It was Lillie’s way to put on airs and stretch the truth, and that was the one thing that Doc could not stand about his older sister. However, she was family and it was only right to let her know that Sam was to be married.
Lillie dozed by the small fire place in the parlor. She was sound asleep when Brian turned his key in the front door and let himself in to the brownstone, where he had grown up. He saw his aunt slouched in her chair, her lace cap perched on top of her grey hair. She was snoring like a drunkard and he had to smile. She was so concerned about manners and being a lady or a gentleman, but here she was snoring like a buffalo. The young man crossed the hall and knelt down in front of her, touching her on the knee. “Aunt Lillie?”, he said quietly. The woman snorted herself awake. Embarrassed she glared back at her nephew’s hazel eyes. “Brian.,” , she said “What time is it?”
“Does it matter?, “ he replied as he rose, pulled off his over coat and slung it over his arm. “The constable’s mare birthed a fine stud colt tonight. That baby was on the ground right at midnight.”
“Thoroughbred?”, Lillie asked.
“Indeed,” Brian replied “This one is going to be a winner, just like his daddy is.”
“Horses.,” the old woman spit “You and your sister, just obsessed with them.” Brian laughed at her grumpy state of mind. He was used to it. “Well, that may be so, Aunt Lillie,” he said, “But because of the equine clients I have, I keep the wolf from to door.”
“I got a letter from your Uncle Elliot today,’ she said to change the subject. That peeked the young doctor’s interest. “Really?”, he said “I hope he is well. Is he still with the Texas Rangers?”
Lillie raised her hand to stop him. “He is fine,” she said as she handed Doc’s letter to Brian.. “Read it. Your sister is getting married.”
‘Well,” Brian declared “That is good news!” He stood in the lamp light and read his uncle’s letter. “The fellow is from New York. Wonder how he ended up in Texas.”
“That dreadful place,” Lillie commented. “I suppose you will want to go to the wedding.”
“I wouldn’t miss Sam’s wedding for the world,” Brian beamed. “I will send a telegraph to Doc in the morning. We can be on the train by tomorrow afternoon.” Lillie waved him off. “You never liked Texas, Brian,”she said “I am sure it hasn’t changed and that your uncle is still hanging around with those, those savages.”
Brian Dodge laughed . “I want to go back to where I was born, Aunt Lillie and see some of those people I remember before it is too late and they all are gone.”
It was only fair. Brian had a right to go back to where he’d come from and she decided not to be selfish. “All right, Nephew,” Lillie agreed “But we will leave Friday. I want to purchase a proper wedding dress for your sister. If I know your uncle and that old Zachariah Dodge, Sam will look like a heathen on her wedding day and I simply will not have that. Oh, what will that poor man from New York think. I will have to be there to keep things civilized.”
Brian laughed “I am going to bed. It has been a long night and I am tired. Good night Aunt Lillie. We will leave on Friday.”

+++++++++++

Scrub Pot and I were on the roof of the barn working on patching a hole when Doc rode in from his trip into town. He did not look happy at all. Taking note of this, Scrub Pot and I looked at each other and went back to nailing the cedar wood shingles in place. “Best we finish here before we learn what is on his mind today,” the old man suggested.
Victoria met her husband in the front hall of the ranch house. She was on her way to help Esparanza in the kitchen. She was going to ask Doc if Floyd and Ely had been able to get all the supplies on her list when they took the wagon into town earlier that morning. The look on Doc’s face was more of a warning than a greeting.
“What is wrong, Love?,” Victoria asked.
Doc was quiet for a moment as he stood there in the hall looking back at his wife. “Vic,” he said “, Did you ever do something you felt was the right thing to do at the time, then take a step back and watch it all blow up in your face?”
“Well, of course I have, Doc,” Victoria replied “Why do you ask? Has something happened?”
Doc fished in the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “My sister is coming to Sam and Jerrod’s wedding,” he said “and they are on the way here now. I figured if any of those Philadelphia Stevens’ came, it would be just Brian. He’s Joe and Sarah’s boy. But it ain’t just Brian Dodge. Lillie is coming with him.”
Victoria took the telegrapher’s hand written note from Doc and began to read. This is wonderful.,” she said as she looked up at her husband’s doubtful expression. “You should not be worried about this. It will be good for Sam to see her brother and for Jerrod to meet him and your sister.”
“Suppose it will, Darlin’,” Doc drawled “But you don’t know my sister.”


++++++++++

Brian Dodge smiled across the stage coach at Essie. She was dozing as the Overland coach rocked and jolted its way to Grant’s Creek. The six horse team was fresh when they left the train station, so he hoped they would reach their destination on time. How long had it been? He’d been to the Bear Claw and Grant’s Creek a few times, but he hardly remembered the cabin his Grandfather lived in. He was looking forward to seeing him, and especially seeing Sam. Aunt Lillie always was ready with a complaint while they’d traveled, by train all the way from Philadelphia. But when they reached Texas, she had kept her criticisms , complaints and ranting about manners and savages to herself. Brian asked Essie Wilburn to come along with them and help with the wedding. He had two good reasons for asking her too. Lillie needed her help, and Brian was in love with the girl. If she could handle his Texas kin folk, then he was going to marry her if she’d have him. It was high time he found a wife and settled down. Brian was twenty two now, six foot six, like his father, with dark brown hair, but his hazel green eyes, were the Stevens’ blood in him. He was devastatingly handsome, but Brian had never seemed to notice the effect that he had on the young ladies he met. He detested the attentions of the Philadelphia socialites’s daughters. There was nothing real about any of the ones his aunt paraded in front of him like prize breeding mares at a horse auction. He’s life was in his work until that one night four months ago when he’d realized that Essie Wilburn, who cleaned his Aunt’s house, washed the clothes, cooked for him and listened to his dreams and defeats meant far more to him than the friend she thought she was. He loved everything about her, her strawberry blonde hair, that curled around her face, and her china blue eyes and her smile was like a ray of sunshine. She was Irish through and through, and he admired her courage and open mindedness. She’d even helped him on several barn calls. Yes, Brian thought. She is the one and she doesn’t even know it.” Aunt Lillie would have a fit when she heard of his plan, but Dr. Brian Dodge had made up his mind. Essie Wilburn would become the new Mrs. Dodge one day. He thought of Sam. He could not wait to see her. It had been far too long and what was this Jerrod Bently like? He hoped he was a good man.

Victoria Stevens was a warm smile, a kind word and like a breath of fresh air at the ranch. I think that everyone had fallen in love with her. Even the some times grumpy and disagreeable Esparanza, who had been the cook on the Flying S forever, liked her. She even seemed happy that Victoria was there to help with the preparations for our wedding. Three days, and I would make Sam my wife. Our quiet little wedding had become the talk of the county and everyone from Grants Creek to the realm of Wolf Standing wanted to attend. Now that made me a little nervous, but then I was the bridegroom and I couldn’t give in to that. I was in kitchen watching Victoria as she and Esparanza worked, I was trying to forgot about my nervousness over saying my vows to Sam in front of half of the great state of Texas. “Keep you fingers out of that batter, Jerrod Bently,” Victoria admonished “That is what will soon be a wedding cake?” Since I had come to know Doc’s bride, I truly appreciated her in many ways, especially her cooking. I believe that Victoria Stevens could have taken an old jack rabbit and made a feast out of it. The woman was amazing, but I could not resist a taste of the batter she was preparing. The result was the loud crack of her wooden spoon hitting the table top near my hand. “Jerrod!”, she said. I thrust my batter coated finger into my mouth and trying not to grin to widely, and left the kitchen to look for Sam. She’d gone out for a ride with Lillie Greyhorse and Little Fox, and she as due back anytime now. I stepped out onto the front porch and enjoyed a cool autumn breeze as it passed, causing the curtains in the open parlor windows to dance. That was when I heard the buggy coming up from the back barn. That was right. Family was due to arrive to day. With all the excitement, I’d nearly forgotten. Doc pulled up with a matched team of bays in harness. He did not look happy. “Afternoon, Sherrif,” I said as I stepped off the porch to meet him.
“It’s afternoon all right,” he groused “But I can’t say anything good about it.”
“Awe, come on, Doc,” I protested “She can’t be all that bad. Can she?”
He pushed his black hat back from his forehead. “Like I told my wife, Jerrod.” he drawled, “You don’t know my sister.”
“May be not.” I replied ,“But it is what is it, Doc. Besides that, I am wanting to meet Sam’s brother. Mind if I ride along?” That cock eyed grin of his appeared to erase the foul mood he was in from his face.
“Sam isn’t back from over yonder yet, is she?”, he asked.
“No,” I answered “But I am not worried.”
“Bear Claw was where your bride to be grew up,” Doc said “She has friends there that she has not seen for a while.” He scooted over on the leather seat if the buggy. “Come on, Bently,” he said “Misery loves company.”
I climbed up next to him. “Well,” I said as I put my hat on my head. “Let’s go meet the stage.”
He slapped the reins and the team moved forward. Now I had driven with Doc many times. I’d seem him do things with the buckboard that I would never dream of attempting. He liked to drive his horses fast sometimes, but today he didn’t seem to want to ask them for even a trot.
“Doc,” I said “This isn’t like you. Those bays are the best team we’ve got here.”
“Son,” he drawled “I ain’t in any hurry.”
“Well,” I agreed, “Neither am I. So I leaned back in the seat and put my feet up on the dashboard. As I pulled my hat down to shade my eyes I saw him take a cigar out of his pocket. “Here,” he said “Hold the reins for me while I light up. Lillie always hated it when I’d smoke a good cigar.”
I took the reins out of his gloved hand and kept the team at the same slow pace they’d set. Doc struck a match at lit his smoke. The acrid yellow gray smoke blew over me. “I can understand why,” I said , trying to fan the smoke away with my hand.
Doc laughed “There are things that stink worse than this cigar, Jerrod,” he said wryly.
I remembered Old Pede’s story about the pole cat and laughed. “S’pose you’re right,” I said. “You think the stage will be on time?”
“Never has been.,” Doc replied as he took the reins back “But today might just be my lucky day,” he added sarcastically. At that he reached for the buggy whip and snapped the bays into a trot.

The Overland Stage pulled in two hours late. It arrived in a cloud of dust and the shouts of the driver to his team. With dust in the air, the jingle of harnesses and the crunch of iron rimmed wheels it came to a halt in front of the Grant’s Creek Hotel. For a moment I thought of the past, remembering that I rode into town on a stage like that, but it felt like a lifetime ago.
“Well, come on,” Doc prompted as we walked through the swinging doors of the Painted Pony Saloon . I followed him across the street to the hotel. The door of the coach swung open and a tall dark haired man stepped out and looked around. When I looked at his face and saw those hazel colored eyes, I knew that had to be Brian Dodge. In a way, he reminded me of Doc only younger. “Brian?”, Doc inquired . The young man turned around. “Uncle Elliot!” he said as he stuck out his hand “Yes, it is me. Brian, your nephew.” Doc shook hands with him and then they embraced. “It is so good to see you, boy.” Doc said , “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“How is my Grandfather?”, Brian asked “Has he been well?”
“Indeed he has,” Doc replied “He’ll be at the ranch by the time we get there. “
”And Sam?”
“She’s just fine, Brian,” Doc replied proudly “She’s happier than I’ve ever known her to be.” Doc put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward . “This here is Jerrod Bently,” he said with the same glowing pride that was in his voice when he had spoken about Sam. “He’s going to be family in a day or so.”
Brian turned to me and grinned “I am pleased to meet you,” he said “and congratulations.” We shook hands and then it was time for the women to climb out of the coach. I could hear a litany of complaints from inside the coach as Brian Dodge reached in to take his aunt’s hand. A moment later, there she was, all dressed in black, a matching black hat with fashionable feathers around it and a light veil over her face. “Elliott,” she said as she climbed down from the coach “This has been the most deplorable trip I have ever taken in all my born days! ”
”Good to see you too, Lillie Belle,” Doc said as he drew on another, freshly lit cigar and let the smoke flow. I could not help but notice the great care Brian took as he helped the next lady off the stage or the way they looked at eachother.
Lillie Stevens-Black looked back at her younger brother. “I suppose we will be staying here in this dreadful hotel,” she said as she watched him smoke. “And were is Samantha Ann?”
“Sam is over at Bear Claw with Zachariah,” Doc drawled victoriously “And you will be coming back to The Flying S with us.”
“Good,” she replied haughtily “In Philadelphia, the hotels are.....” Doc cut her off, “I know,” he said “So much better than here in Texas.” Lillie seemed a little embarrassed by his remark, but smiled back at him. “You are looking well, Elliott, marriage agrees with you.”
“Indeed it does, sister,” he replied as he jerked his thumb towards me. “This young man is Jerrod Bently, Lillie,” he continued “and I expect you to treat him with respect. He’s one of those “New York” Bentlys!”
“Oh, Elliott!” she cooed as she gave me the once over, “you should have told me that right away.” She walked over to me and offered her hand. “Jerrod Bently,” she said “How wonderful it is to meet you. Why just the other day I was talking to my friend Mildred, about The Bentlys of New York and.....” Doc cut her off. “Lill,” he said “Let’s get your bags and head back. Looks like it might rain and I don’t have the canopy on the buggy.”
“Dear me, Elliott,’ she criticized “how could you forget such a thing.”
“Easy.,” he countered “I don’t predict the weather, like up in Philadelphia, now GET IN THAT BUGGY! NOW!”
She looked shocked, and may be a little frightened , but she did what she was told . Doc, Brian and I unloaded at least thirteen satchels and valises from the top and back of the stage. One large box wrapped in white canvas was handed down to me. As I started to the buggy with it, Lillie spoke up again “Be careful with that, young man!”, she ordered “, I will take that parcel.” I carried the box over to the side of the buggy and handed it to her. “You can not see that, Mr. Bently,” she said proudly “Not until the wedding day.” Doubtfully, I handed her the box. “Ah, thanks,” I said “I am sure that will be a sight to behold.” We were loaded heavy, and Doc grumbled to himself as he climbed into the drivers seat and took up the reins. “Elliott!,” Lillie barked “If you need me to advise you on how to drive that team, I will. You know I attended the “Philadelphia Ladies School for Driving.”
Doc turned around and glared at his sister. “Lillie Belle,” he said tauntingly “You never drove a team in your life, so don’t you be telling me what to do.” Oh, this woman was irritating, and I could tell that Doc was not pleased. Well, may be once we got back to the ranch, she would go take a powder or lie down with a head ache. I felt sorry for Sam. She would soon be reunited with her aunt, and I had a really bad feeling about it, but may be having her brother there would soften the blow. All the way home, Lillie chattered on and on about her friends and her life in Philadelphia and how wonderful the Bentlys of New York were. If she knew any Bentlys of New York, they sure weren’t my kin. Our blood ran red, not blue like that of Lillie Stevens-Black and I began to wonder if she was really the person she presented herself as.
It didn’t rain and we got back to the ranch just about sundown. Sam was waiting for me on the porch swing when we drove in. As soon as they saw each other, there was no holding Brian Dodge or Sam back. He jumped out of the buggy, ignoring his aunt’s protests, Sam ran to him and he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her high into the air, and swung her around . She was laughing and crying at the same time, thrilled to see her brother for the first time in a very long time. Scrub Pot was standing by the front door, a wistful smile on his face as he removed his hat. His grandson had come home. The old man was not about to make Doc’s overbearing sister the center of attention like she’d always expected to be. This moment was about his grandchildren and the wedding that would unite Sam and me forever as husband and wife. He marveled at the sight of his grandson. He had not seen him in years and how he favored his father, and the old man smiled. After a joyous reunion, they went to Scrub Pot. With out a word, he opened his arms and embraced Brian and Sam. He spoke to them in his native tongue and they both smiled with understanding. “What did he say?”, Essie whispered as she appeared behind Doc’s shoulder.
“He is welcoming Brian home,” Doc replied as he watched a family reunited. “Is that Samantha?”, the girl asked.
“Sure is,” Doc replied proudly.
“My, she is even more beautiful than Brian told me she was, I mean, Doctor Dodge, told me.” Embarrassed her voice trailed off. Doc turned around and faced her. “It’s all right , missy,” he said “I ain’t blind you know. I saw how he looks at you.” Essie blushed and returned to the buggy to attend to her rather irate mistress.
Miss Lillie was out of the buggy and admonishing and criticizing , and ordering who ever was in ear shot of her sharp and demanding voice. However, to her dismay, no one was listening and there she stood by the buggy (which was loaded heavily with her baggage) and a look of disapproval on her face when her green eyes met those of The Reverend Zachariah Dodge. All attention was focused on Sam and her brother. Doc and I heard Lillie’s complaining, and decided her visit to Texas had all ready been to long. It became very obvious to me as I watched my fiancee and her brother that Mrs. Lillie Stevens-Black ‘s problem was that she was jealous of her niece and nephew and probably everything else too.
Lillie scowled at Doc as he stood on the front porch of the ranch house, looking straight at her as though offering up some kind of a challenge. He pulled out another cigar and lit it. “Aren’t you tired of smoking those things, Doc?” I asked as I stood next to him. He glanced over at me and grinned, “As long as it irritates my sister, I may smoke ten of ‘em.,” he replied.
“But not in the house,” Sam said as she and Brian joined us. I reached out and caught her, pulling her close and she responded with a kiss that made me wish we were all ready husband and wife.
“You know you are getting the best girl in Texas, Jerrod,” Brian said as he started toward the buggy to help with the unloading.
“I know,” I replied as I released Sam so she could greet her aunt. I was not worried about her, she could hold her own against this woman if she had to. By now the ranch hands has come to carry all thirteen valises and carpet bags into the house and Lillie was now on the porch with Sam. “You look like a cow hand,” Lillie criticized as she greeted her niece “A proper young lady should be....” Sam cut her off, “This is not Philadelphia, Aunt Lillie and I am not a “just a cow hand,” I own this ranch.” , she snapped. Lille was shocked into silence. “Esparanza will show you to your room.” , she added as she walked away, refusing to be angered by the woman. Lille stood on the porch alone, as we carried all that baggage into the front hall and then to the bedrooms upstairs. I decided that no matter what this old witch might have to say, I was not going to allow her to steal the joy and happiness of our wedding day. And in the future, if she never visited us again, I would be grateful.
Victoria , came to the door and on seeing Lillie standing there, approached her. Haughtily, Lillie turned to look at her. “Hello,” Victoria said a she sized up the situation “You must be Doc’s sister.” She offered Lillie her hand.
“Yes,” Lillie replied as she leveled a scrutinizing gaze on Victoria and the simple calico dress she was wearing under her long white apron. “And who might you be?”
Victoria had dealt with people like her new sister in law in the course of a day of business as usual at her bake shop. “Oh,” she said with an elegant smile “I’m the cook.”
“Then, get the housekeeper to show me to my room.,” Lillie replied in a condescending manner. Victoria was preparing with a hot retort for the woman just as her husband appeared at her side. Doc grabbed her and kissed her soundly right in front of his sister. “Elliot!” Lillie stated “That is inappropriate! We do not mix with the hired help.”
Doc broke away from his wife, leaving her momentarily breathless. “Oh,’ he said “It’s all right here in Texas as long as “the hired help” is my wife.”
Victoriously he watched Lillie’s face go scarlet as she stuttered out words in great embarrassment. Doc would not let up. “Lillie,” he said as he drew Victoria to his side, “I am proud to present my wife, Victoria Stevens.”
That was all the overbearing woman could handle, “Pleased to meet you,” she muttered as Brian came to her rescue and took her to her room. A moment later he was back. “I am sorry, Uncle Elliot,” he said “She is very difficult.”
“That ain’t nothing new, son,” Doc replied “She’s been like that since I can remember. “
Brian reached out to take Victoria’s hand. “You must be my new Aunt Victoria,” he said as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I am honored to meet you.”
Victoria did not need an introduction to know that this young man was Brian Dodge. His eyes reminded her very much of Doc’s. “I am sorry if my aunt offended you,” he said “Sometimes I think she does not know any better.”
“Oh, she knows better.,” Doc chimed in “and may be while she is here for your sister’s wedding, she can learn a few manners that ain’t got a thing to do with “Philadelphia.”
“Are you hungry, Brian?”, Victoria asked “I made some sandwiches while Doc was in town to meet the stage and Esparanza brought some fresh butter milk in from the spring house.”
“That sounds wonderful, “ Brian replied “And yes, I am half starved.” Come to think of it, so was I as I over heard them talking. So I followed my soon to be brother in law to the kitchen and Victoria fed us royally. She was a fine woman and we would miss her and Doc when the time came for them to go back to Portersville. I also knew that if anyone was going to knock Lillie Stevens-Black off her high horse, it would be Victoria. She had become a mother to Sam and in a way to me as well. Sam fully recovered from the accident under Victoria’s care and for that I would be eternally grateful. Sam had needed her in her life and once again I realized all that had happened was the work of the Lord.

+++++++++++++

Now all the way home, Aunt Lillie Steven-Black had coddled that large box wrapped in white canvas as though it were a new born child. Essie sat beside Brian and I am sure they both had had a belly full of Lillie Stevens-Black. I know I had and I was sure Doc was of the same mind. That box held some kind of fancy high society wedding dress, and I knew before we even got all those thirteen bags into the house, that Sam would hate it. My Sam was not a fancy dress up kind of person.. To her, the dungarees made of denim from Levi Strauss out in California were the latest fashion, and she wore holes in her favorite boots long before she wore out her denims. This new fabric was a cowboy or girl’s dream come true and in those well fitting work jeans, that was how I always saw her in my thoughts. She was a cow girl, and I loved her just the way she was.

When Sam walked into her bedroom, there on the bed was a few things she did not recognize at all. Beside it was a large pile of lace and satin ruffles and a white hat box. “Surprise!” Aunt Lillie crowed. ”It is your wedding dress!”
Uncertain, Sam turned worried dark eyes to Victoria and trying not to look shocked or appear ungrateful. She crossed to her bed to look at the garments laid out there, waiting for her.
“Thank you, Aunt Lillie,” she said in her usual quiet way. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Queen Victoria wore a beautiful white gown such as this when she married Prince Albert.,” Lillie chattered on “And now it is all the rage. Why every bride in Philadelphia would kill to wear this gown on her wedding day!” Victoria could sense Sam’s distress. “Lillie,” she said “Why don’t you go down to the kitchen. Esparanza has made a fresh pot of tea. May be Sam would like to try on her dress. I will call you when we are ready.”
“Very well,” Lillie agreed, a smile of great self satisfaction crossing her face. “That dress was made by one of the finest dressmakers in Philadelphia,” she said “I chose it myself, and I knew you would just love it!”
Sam was trying very hard not to laugh out loud. “Thank you,” she said “It is very nice. I will put it on and then call you.”
“See that you do child.,” Lillie instructed “I know that dress is just perfect for you. Oh! I can hardly wait till Saturday to see you walk down the isle in it!” Twittering to her self, Lillie left Sam and Victoria alone in Sam’s room. Both of them heaved a sigh of relief. Sam picked up a fancy white bustle trimmed with lace. “What is this?”, she asked “It can’t be something I am supposed to wear? This all looks pretty complicated to me.” She then picked up the white satin whale boned corset, laces all tied up neatly down the back, and looked at Victoria with a question in her eyes.
“That is a corset.,” Victoria replied, “The other is bustle and you don’t need either of them.” She sat down on the edge of Sam’s bed and looked at all the fancy under clothes that were meant for holding up the wedding dress.
“I had not planned on this.,” Sam said disdainfully as she pulled off her linen shirt, kicked off her boots, then slid out if her dungarees. “I was going to wear the gauchos you gave me and my new boots.”
“I hadn’t thought of this either, Honey,” Victoria replied “and you will look fine in the gauchos, Sam, but your aunt has brought this and I guess you should at least try it on.”
“May be it will be too small,” Sam said hopefully.
Victoria looked at the dress. “My best guess is that it will be too big for you.”
“You words to God’s ears,” Sam replied.
It took Victoria a while, but she got all the lacing and tying done. Sam stood in front of the mirror looking at herself. “It’s awful!,” she said as Victoria prepared to drop the hooped petticoat on to the floor. “And very uncomfortable.,” Victoria added in agreement, then pointed to the hoops “You will have to step into that and I will pull it up for you,”
“It is hard to breathe in this thing,” Sam commented as she continued to look at her reflection. Victoria grinned “That’s why I don’t wear one,”she replied proudly as she smoothed her sides with both hands. “My waist has always been about twenty two inches,” she said “But with a baby coming, I am sure that will change.”
Sam did not comment right away, she was still looking at herself in the mirror. Then she grinned wickedly admiring how the corset enhanced the gentle curves of her body. “I think Jerrod might like seeing me in this,”she said. “But no bustle.”
“ I think he would love to see you like that,” Victoria replied as she lifted the hoops up and tied the strings behind Sam’s tiny waist “But he will have to wait until after you say your vows to see you in that get up,” she added.
Sam giggled “The waiting is the hardest part,” she said as she looked down and the hooped petticoat.
“I know,” Victoria agreed as she lifted the wedding dress for its place on the bed. “This thing weighs a good twenty pounds,” she added as she sifted through the layers of lace and satin and found the bodice. “Are you ready, Sam?”, she asked. Sam nodded and Victoria lifted the dress over her head and let her push her arms into the long sleeves and wiggle into tight high necked bodice of the gown. The volumous skirts fell over the hoops all around her like an avalanche of satin, lace and pearls. “I feel like a wide church bell,” Sam said disparagingly “and you were right. It weighs a ton.“
Victoria picked up the round white hat box and opened it. Inside was a simple wedding veil attached to a small white cap. She carefully placed it on Sam’s head. Then stepped back to look at her niece. Thinking that it was not even remotely like Sam to be dressed this way, she decided to let her niece speak first.
“I hate it.,”Sam said as she glared at her reflection “It is not me.”
“Sure isn’t.,” Victoria agreed. Sam looked at her.
“I don’t want to hurt Aunt Lillie’s feelings,” she said “But this looks really awful and I don’t want to wear it.”
“Sam,” Victoria said sympathetically “Your wedding is about you and Jerrod. You don‘t have to wear this thing if you don’t want to. “
”Lets stick to what we decided we’d wear,” Sam said. “I think Jerrod would agree.”
“But I still think he’d like the underwear you have on,” Victoria giggled.
“Me too,” Sam agreed wickedly “Maybe I will wear that much of this stuff under what ever I decide to wear, But NO BUSTLE.”
“Of course not,” Victoria said “Now we have to show this to your aunt. We promised and then you will have to tell her the truth.”
“I will,” Sam replied “I know she meant well, but this is just way too much dress for my liking.”
Leaving Sam alone in her bedroom scrutinizing her reflection, Victoria went down stairs to the kitchen to find her sister in law. Lillie was sitting at the large table in the middle of the room, enjoying her afternoon tea while Esparanza baked corn bread to go with the chilli Doc was making outside over and open fire. “Would you like to come up stairs, Lillie,’ Victoria asked. “Sam has the dress on.”
“Wonderful,” Lillie chirped as she set down her cup and rose t her feet “I am sure she is a vision of loveliness. You know, Victoria, that dress was very expensive, but worth every penny so I might see my niece married in such a creation before I die. God knows, her brother doesn’t seem interested in marriage.”
Politely Victoria listened to the woman rattle on and finally admitted to herself that like her husband, she was counting the days until Lillie would return to her beloved Philadelphia and hopefully stay there. “I am sure she just loves how it looks,” Lille bantered as the climbed the stairs. Victoria was very glad that she could not get a word in sideways. With Lillie’s chattering on as she was, Victoria would not have to tell her that Sam did not want to wear the gown.

Ely Jax looked doubtful as he carried up another armload of fire wood from the wood shed and dropped it close to the fire pit, where Doc was adding spices to his bubbling pot. He had been at this for hours and told us all that his chilli was the best in Texas and that now since he’d be living in the Oklahoma Territory, he’d be the best chilli cook there too. I had grown used to Victoria’s cooking and Esparanza’s, but I went along with Doc that morning when he started the fire and started cooking. Little Fox had come over to help, and bought with him venison and some kind of spices that smelled pretty bad, but Doc seemed to know what he was doing, when he added it all to his pot. “Well how hot is it going to be?”, Floyd Jax asked.
“Did you see that stuff I just dropped in there,” Doc said as he stirred the spicy smelling concoction.
“No,” Floyd replied.
Doc grinned “May be that is just as well.” There was an air of festivity at the ranch, with our wedding coming up on Saturday afternoon. Everyone was enjoying themselves, except for Sam, and of course at this point I was helping Doc cook and had no idea what was happening up there on the second floor of the ranch house. But when I saw her run out the back door, pull Trouble out of the paddock and then ride off toward Bear Claw, I got worried. Something had gone very wrong.


Scrub Pot had not lived in his cabin for a while. It had been closed up for months, until we came in from Waco. There were some things there that he put away, but now wanted to give to Sam. The old man had been through trunks and boxes and laid out the carefully wrapped treasures on a rough wooden table in the middle of the room. All most in reverence, he unrolled a dusty piece of deer skin and a tear come to his eye as he looked down at a beautiful white doe skin dress. It was exquisite, the delicate leather so well preserved for all these years. It was the wedding dress made for a Blackfoot maiden to wear on her wedding day. It had been so long ago. His wedding, his beautiful bride , his Alice. Gently he touched the still bright and colorful bead work on the front of the dress. “I remember your gentle ways, Alice,” he whispered in the stillness. The next to wear this dress was Sarah Stevens, the day she married his son, Joseph and then he had put it away along with the beaded head band, and white moccasin boots all made from the same tanned and bleached deer skin. He was feeling sentimental. His granddaughter was to be married and for some reason, he’d wanted to see the dress again. How long had it been? Sam was nineteen years old now, she would turn twenty next spring. He gently lifted the dress in his hands, the beautiful delicate fringes falling into place on the arms and down the sides. He remembered the joy of that day long ago and wondered if Sam would want to wear it. He would not insist as it seemed that Doc’s sister had just moved in and taken over the entire ranch, let alone Sam and Jerrod’s wedding. He carefully rolled the beautiful garment back inside its protective cover and left it sitting on the table. He would mention it to Sam tonight at dinner. He reached for his hat and placing it on his head then stepped outside . He would saddle his horse and ride over to The Flying S to see just what it was that Doc was up to. “He’s one who keeps life interesting,” the old man muttered to himself as he crossed to his corral gate to get Wakeeze. A short while later, he rode out, planning on taking the long way across the miles over to Grants Creek. He wanted to spend as little time around Lillie Stevens-Black as he possibly could. As he left, Sam arrived and was disappointed when she let herself into the cabin, and found him gone. She would get back on her horse and track him down. She would find her Grandfather and he would make things right again, he always had and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him as she did.
Now Doc and the boys were getting a little rowdy outside, and Esparanza was not one to tolerate men who were unruly. Lillie was up in arms over Sam’s not finding the wedding dress as lovely and perfect as she did. Victoria had given up trying to reason with the woman and was relieved when Lillie stalked away from her and went to her room, but not before she bellowed for Essie to come and attend her. But Essie did not come. The young lady was preoccupied.

“I haven’t been in a hay loft just to be lazy since I was a kid,’ Brian Dodge said as he tickled Essie’s cheek with a shaft of long timothy. She swiped at it. “Stop that,” she admonished. “Don’t you think we should go back to the house. We fell asleep out here and I am sure that your Aunt is looking for us both.”
“Essie,”, Brian said “Forget her. All that matters is you and me.” She could not deny that she had loved the feeling of lying in his arms in the sweet smelling hay. “I am just a maid, Brian,” she said “I am not like you and your aunt will never sit still for us being together, married or not married.”
Brian drew her close and gently kissed her lips. “Essie,” he said “She has no hold on you or me. Don’t you understand. I want to marry you. I can support us both and we can make a good life together, but it won’t be in Philadelphia.” She drew away from him, breathless for a moment. “California?”, she asked.
“No,” Brian replied “Here. In Texas. I was born here, so was Sam. Both my parents are buried over at Bear Claw in the Indian Cemetery . There is only my grandfather left and I want to know him better before he is gone too.”
Essie sat up and buttoned her dress “I like him,” she said “He is so stoic, but he makes me laugh. How old is he?”
“Don’t know,” Brian replied “Sam said he might be in his seventies, but she doesn’t know either. Did you know that he is an ordained Protestant minister?”
“No!,” the girl declared “He’s a Indian.”
Brian laughed , “Blackfoot to be specific,” he said, “But he went to the seminary, was ordained around 1863, I think it was and has studied the bible and been preaching ever since.”
“I never heard of such a thing.”, Essie replied.
Brian turned over on his back and looked up at the hand hewn rafters that held up the barn roof. “My grandmother was a true believer and follower of Christ,” he said “She taught him to read the bible and that was how it started. I sort of remember her, but not well. She was a white woman. He was a war chief when he was young and with his tribe. He left all that to be with her. “
”That is so romantic, Brian,” Essie replied as she leaned close to him, hoping he might kiss her again. He did not disappoint her, and he kissed her long and lavishly. She had to catch her breath when she broke away.”
“My Grandfather is a preacher, Essie,” Brian said “We could go to his cabin and he could marry us this afternoon while Doc and the boys cook that chilli they are all raving about.”
“Could we spend our wedding night here in the hay loft?”, she asked. Brian sat up and reached for his shirt. “Is that a yes, Essie Wilburn?”, he asked as he pulled it on over his broad shoulders.
“I think so, Brian,” she replied “But can you ask me formally, like Jerrod asked Sam?”
Brian laughed. “According to Doc, Jerrod proposed to Sam in a muddy street, in a down pour after he and Ely fought over a misunderstanding where my sister was concerned.”
Essie wrinkled her nose. “At least it is dry here,” she said. She thought he looked so handsome as he took her hands in his and looked her in the eye. “Essie Wilburn, will you forget about my aunt and stop worrying?”
“Yes,” she replied
“Will you help me with Sam’s horses?”
“Yes I will.”
“Do you want to finish what we started here in this hay loft?”
“Yes, please,” she replied with a giggle.
“Well, then,” he added with a wink of his eye and a crooked smile on his face “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife as soon as we can find Scrub Pot?”
“Yes, Brian Dodge,” she breathed against his lips “and I will be a good wife to you.” Brian finished buttoning his shirt and tucked his shirt tail into his dungarees. “And I will be a good husband,” he said as he reached out to her and helped her up. “I think I have been in love with you for a long time,’ he added. She looked up into his eyes, hers dreamy and moist with emotional tears. “I did not know how you felt, Brian,” she said quietly “I was going to leave for California as soon as I had the money saved up to go.” He drew her into his arms “I would have never let you leave me, Essie.”
“If we can get married this afternoon,” Brian added “Were you serious about having our wedding night out here?”
Essie smiled devilishly. “Yes,” she said “I think it would be fun.”
“So do I,” Brian agreed “But we will need some blankets to lay over the hay up here.”
“Good idea,” Essie replied as she pulled the remaining shafts of hay out of her hair. It did not take Brian much time at all to get down the ladder and saddle two of the horses and a short while later, they rode out to find The Reverend Zachariah Dodge. Brian’s mind was made up. He was ready for this, ready for Texas and more than ready to make Essie Wilburn his bride.

Scrub Pot was just about two miles from the ranch when his grand daughter appeared out of no where on her sorrel stallion. From the look on her face, the old man knew that something was wrong. He drew Wakeese to a halt and waited for her to catch up to him. “I went to the cabin,” Sam said as she stopped next to him. “I need to talk to you.”
Scrub Pot slid off his horse’s back and motioned Sam to follow him. There was a large shade tree by the side of the road which afforded them a good place to sit down and talk. Sam dismounted and left Trouble ground tied near by. “What is so urgent, child?,” the old man asked. Sam had always been direct, when something was on her mind, but right now she was not sure what she was feeling. “It’s the wedding,” she stated “I don’t want to do it.”
“Has something happened between you and Jerrod”, Scrub Pot asked worriedly.
“No,” Sam replied “It’s not him. Grandfather, you know I love him and I want to marry him, but since Aunt Lillie arrived, it’s gotten out of hand. She has made all these plans and she keeps ordering everyone around, and that dress she is going to make me wear! It is awful and I hate it. So does Victoria and I want to..” Scrub pot reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. “Say no more Samantha Ann”, he said “I understand.”
“Grandfather, it was just going to be us, not the whole world,” Sam said “I am so glad that Brian came, but I wish Aunt Lillie had stayed in Philadelphia.”
Scrub pot chuckled “Your aunt has never changed,” he said “And never will. Forgive her, Sam. She means well, but always falls short of her goals. She can not help herself.”
“You are too kind to her, Grandfather,” Sam said “She has been nothing but hateful to you since the day she arrived.”
“That is nothing new either, child,” the old man answered. “Don’t worry, when Doc has had enough, he will put her in her place.”
“I don’t want to wear that dress,” Sam stated “I’d rather go get Jerrod right now and have you marry us under this tree than look like a white buffalo.”
“I think I have a solution, Sam,” Scrub Pot replied “But we will have to ride back to my cabin.”
“What is your plan?”, she asked “Hobble my aunt and throw her on the next stage out of town.”
“No,” Scrub Pot replied as he whistled for Wakeeze. He caught the reins as the big horse ambled up to him. “I think we can do better than that.” The gleam in his tired dark eyes always made Sam smile. He was up to something, again. She mounted up and followed him back to his cabin at the edge of The Bear Claw settlement.
“I have married many couples in my time,” Scrub Pot said as they walked through the front door and into a room the size of the entire cabin. “Some white, some Indian, Mexicans who could hardly speak English at all, but the one thing that they all seemed to understand was that God had brought them together. The most memorable wedding I preformed this summer was Doc and Victoria’s. “
”I hope mine will be among your fond memories,” Sam replied disdainfully.”
“I am sure it will be,”, he said as he motioned toward the items wrapped in deer skin, lying on the table in front of the fire place. “Go. See what is inside.” Wearily, he lowered himself into his old wooden rocking chair and watched as Sam unwrapped her grandmother’s white deer skin wedding dress. She was stunned by the beauty of it as she touched it and traced the intricate bead work with her finger. “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.,’ she marveled as she picked it up and held it in front of her. “Oh, it is perfect, Grandfather. Where did you get it? I have never seen it before.”
His eyes turned misty “Your Grandmother wore that dress on the day we were married in the chapel at Fort Dodge, Sam,” he said quietly “My brother had it made especially for her and sent it to me there. It was many years ago. Now it is yours to wear, my child.”
Sam was unwrapping the matching boots now and tears were streaming down her face. She was in awe of the treasure and deeply touched by her Grandfather’s gift. She went to him and put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“You mother was the next bride to wear that dress when she married your father,” he said as he held her in his arms “Now you will wear it as your mother and grandmother before you when you and Jerrod say your vows tomorrow. “
”Thank you, Grandfather,” she sniffed “ It is part of our family history, and Jerrod will love it..” Scrub Pot gently touched her on the tip of her nose with his fore finger. “Is the dress more what you had in mind than that contraption Lille brought from back East.?”
“Yes,” Sam replied “This changes everything!” As they wrapped the dress and its accessories in their protective covers again, an urgent knock sounded upon Scrub Pot’s front door. Grumbling he rose to his feet, and crossed the room to answer. He flung the door open, expecting Little Fox to be standing there, and instead it was his grandson and a very pretty young girl with strawberry blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes.
“Brian,” the old man said in great surprise “ Come in.” The couple stepped through the door and Brian removed his hat. He saw his sister standing by the table with the deer skin packages in her hands. “Sam?”, he said “I thought you were back at the ranch, getting fitted for your wedding dress.”
“I escaped,” she said proudly “What has brought you out here?’
Brian Dodge faced his grandfather. “I have never been a man to beat around the bush and not come right out and say what was on my mind,” he said “Grandfather. This lady is Essie Maureen Wilburn and I want to change her name to Dodge. Can you help us?”
At first Scrub Pot’s expression seemed doubtful as he looked back at his grandson. Then he grinned wide. “I can help you,” he replied “and gladly I will unite you and Essie in holy matrimony . However. First I must know if this is truly what the both of you want and not some passing fantasy.”
Brian put his arm around Essie and drew her close to his side. “I love this girl, Grandfather,” he said “and I think it all got started on a day nearly a year ago when I first laid eyes one her. I work hard and there is little time for socializing let alone properly courting a girl,” he added “I have met many young ladies. You know Aunt Lillie.”
Scrub Pot nodded knowingly, waiting for Brian to go on. “I always was polite, I was always cordial, but I always was thinking of Essie and hoping to find a way to convince her to marry me.”
“Hmmm,” Scrub Pot said thoughtfully as he crossed the room and began rummaging through the saddle bags that hung on the wall next to his cupboard. “I believe you have given this much thought, Grandson,” he said.
“I have,” Brian replied as he gazed into Essie’s sparkling blue eyes. “I’ve thought of nothing else since we got here.” The old man withdrew his tattered bible and book of services from the saddle bag. “And you, young lady,” he directed to Essie “Have you thought about the commitment you are about to make with my grandson and the children you will one day have? You know, marriage is not to be taken lightly.”
He glanced over at Sam who had seated herself in his wooden rocking chair and was pulling off her boots to try on the tall white doe skin moccasins. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she did not seem to hear the conversation going on around her. She looked up and smiled, then went back to lacing the moccasin up the front. Essie seemed a little nervous at first. “I have admired Brian for a long time,” she said quietly “But I could not express my feelings for him because I am..., I mean, I was, his aunt’s housekeeper and personal maid.”
“Do you love him?”, Scrub Pot asked.
“Yes sir,” Essie replied, “I do.” Sam was still lacing up the white boots, they fit her perfectly as though they had been made for her. Without glancing up, she remarked “It’s about time you took a wife, Brian. Do you think that you might want to stay a while?”
Brian grinned broadly, looking like a younger impression of his uncle, Elliot Stevens. “If you want us to stay on at the ranch,” he said “I can start a new practice there. Essie and I are going to stay here in Texas.”
Sam got up from the rocker and walked around the room in her Grandmother’s wedding moccasins . They were comfortable and so unlike those tight high button wedding shoes Aunt Lillie had brought with that awful dress. After a moment she looked up at her brother and smiled “I knew you were going to stay,” she declared “But I sure didn’t expect to have a new sister-in-law too.”
“The Lord moves in strange ways, Granddaughter,” Scrub Pot replied “Now, if you will come over here and stand by your brother and Essie, you will be the witness to their vows.”
“I will be pleased to,” Sam said as she crossed the room and to take her place beside Brian. “But,” she added “I will need Essie to be my bridesmaid tomorrow. Will you do that, Essie?”
Essie nodded and smiled warmly at her. “It will be an honor,” she said quietly. Scrub Pot then instructed Brian and Essie to join hands there in front of his small stone fireplace. Proudly Scrub Pot looked at the faces of the young people standing before him and thanked God for them all. And so as he had done so many , many times before, he began “Dearly beloved...” Sam listened to him speak, dreaming of the next day when she and Jerrod would be reciting the same vows. Doc would be giving her away, Victoria was to be her matron of honor and now Essie would be her bridesmaid. She would wear the beautiful Blackfoot wedding dress, and then a thought out of no where came to her as she stood there dreaming. “If Brian’s marriage to Essie didn’t send Lillie Steven-Black packing back to Philadelphia with a few knots jerked in her tail, nothing would and Brian would be staying on in Texas with her. They would never be separated again. “Thank you Lord,” she whispered to herself “Thank you for all of it.”
“Brian Joseph Dodge,” Scrub Pot continued “Will you have Essie Maureen Wilburn to be your wife, to love, to honor and cherish until death do you part?” Brian smiled at his bride. “I will,” he replied confidently. Scrub Pot then focused on Essie, asking her the same and quietly she responded, “I will.”
Sam was dreaming again. She would be saying the same words to Jerrod, looking up into those misty blue eyes of his, wanting him to kiss her, to love her and make her his for the rest of their lives. “I am wearing that corset get up tomorrow,” she declared devilishly in her thoughts. She liked the way it made her look and knew Jerrod would like it too when they would be left alone for their first night as husband and wife.
“Brian,” Scrub Pot said, his voice bringing Sam back to reality again. “Do you have a ring for your bride?”
Brian reached into the pocket of his dungarees and withdrew a small gold band, the one he purchased back in Philadelphia when he had decided to ask Essie to marry him. “I just happen to have one with me,” he said with a sly grin. Then, taking Essie’s hand, he finished for his Grandfather. “With this ring,” he said “I thee wed.”
Scrub Pot smiled warmly at the young couple “I now gratefully , and with great joy and peace, pronounce you, Brian Joseph Dodge and Essie Maureen Wilburn are husband and wife. For what God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
“Amen to that,” Brian declared as he kissed his bride. Then he turned to his sister. “You’re next, Sammy,” he said “and I will be standing up with Jerrod tomorrow and making sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
“I can’t wait.,” Sam replied excitedly. Scrub Pot closed his book and returned it to his saddle bag. “By now Doc and Jerrod have probably burned that Mexican chilli or Esparanza and Victoria have decided that maybe beef stew would be a better idea for tonight’s dinner,” he said. Sam sat down in the chair, unlaced the boots and took them of. “Have faith,” she said as she wrapped them up again “Isn’t that what you have always told me?”
Scrub Pot shooed Brian and Essie out the front door of his cabin, and watched them get on their horses. “I have fath in God , Samantha Ann,”he said “But very little in your uncle’s ability to cook for a crew of eighteen people and one of them being his rather difficult sister.” A moment later, Sam and her grandfather were out of the cabin and mounted on their own horses for a wild race ride back to The Flying S , but with all the excitement, Sam had left without the doe skin dress and all its accessories. Later she would say it was because of “wedding nerves.”
All afternoon I had been Doc’s assistant. I must have made a hundred trips back and forth to and from the kitchen and the wood shed to the fire pit where he was cooking. The chilli had begun to smell good, and it steamed and bubbled, and I was encouraged , as when he started earlier that day, I was not at all sure that the end result of his endeavors would be a good one. Inside, his wife and Esparanza had been baking most of the day. And the whole ranch house smelled heavenly. Ely and his brother Floyd had set up a series of long tables and lined each with chairs. This was for the celebration tonight and our wedding tomorrow. I didn’t care how many people were attending or about the gifts that seemed to be coming in from every corner of the great state of Texas, all I cared about was Sam and wanting the life we had ahead of us. Of course that this point in time, I had no idea that we would raise four children, and own one of the best horse ranches in Texas. We were just starting out and life lay in front of us as far and as wide as the Texas planes. I heard horses coming hard up from the back forty and knew it was Sam. Whenever she rode with her grandfather, she rode Trouble bareback like a Blackfoot warrior. They raced into view, four riders. I shaded my eyes to see who was with them.
“I knew that boy could ride!,” Doc declared as he joined me on the porch and watched the riders dash across the open field. “He sits that bay just like his Pa.!” It was Brian and Essie, “her majesty’s” maid on the heels of Sam and Scrub Pot.
He clapped me on the shoulder “May be my nephew isn’t such a city slicker after all,” he stated “Come on, Jerrod. Let’s go get cleaned up, company will be coming in soon.”


Victoria tapped on the closed bedroom door. “Lillie?”
“Come in.” came the reply sounding so weak and ill that she just knew it had to be put on. Victoria opened the door and there was her sister in law , lying on the bed, a wet cloth laid across her forehead .
“Oh Victoria!,” Lille began “I am so upset and that ungrateful niece of mine, where is she?” Victoria crossed the room and threw open the windows to let the fresh air into the room, just as Sam, and her racing partners rode into the front yard, laughing and hooting and hollering. “I believe that Sam has just come back from Bear Claw,” Victoria stated “Brian and Essie are with her and Zachariah too.” Lillie uttered a deep sigh of disgust “Oh, that dreadful man,” she said “A savage. And to think that he will be doing the wedding service tomorrow. We must send for a real minister. There must be one in Grants Creek or Three Forks. ”
By now Victoria Stevens had had way too much of Lillie Stevens-Black. “Zachariah Dodge is a good Christian man and a properly ordained minister.,” Victoria growled “As a matter of fact, Lillie, he was the reverend who married your brother and me. When Sam got hurt, he saved her life, he and Jerrod. And where were you? Passing judgement from you throne in Philadelphia? I wish you would just leave and let Sam and Jerrod have their happiness. Just because you have never had any of your own does not give you any right to ruin it for everyone else.”
Lillie sat up on the bed, sputtering excuses and defenses as Victoria stormed from the room and slammed the door behind her. “Send my maid up!” Lillie bellowed.
“In a pig’s eye you old witch!,” Victoria shouted back “Try doing something for your self for once!” She ran down the stairs and out on the porch. She was so angry and she had just lost her temper in a very bad way. “I will not stand by and let her ruin Sam’s happiness,” she stated “God please help me with this rage.” A second later she felt her husband’s arms around her and she burst into tears against his shoulder.
“She got to you, honey?” Doc whispered against her golden hair.. “It’s ok, Vic. What ever happened up there, she deserved it.”
“Doc.,” she said looking up into his hazel eyes “I said some terrible things to her. I am sorry. I just could not hold it back any longer.”
Doc held his wife close. “It’s all right Victoria.” He had such a calming affect on her as they sat down on the porch swing together.

+++++++++++++


Brian, and I had become friends. I asked him to stand up with me at our wedding, because he was Sam’s brother and because I liked the man, but the news I was about to hear still makes me smile even to this day, many years , children and grand children later.
Sam jumped into my arms and I lifted her up into the air, then kissed her soundly. She looked so beautiful with her face flushed from the wind of her wild ride. She’d been so upset when she left the ranch earlier that day and now she was at peace and happy to be home, happy to be with me. I set her down on her feet . “Brian and Essie got married today,’ she said excitedly , that beautiful smile of hers lighting her sun tanned face. “Right in Grandfather’s cabin. I was there!”
I smoothed a lock of her dark auburn hair that had escaped her braid from her cheek. “I love you,” she mouthed at me, then slipped away to get dressed for the evenings festivities. I turned to Brian. “You move fast.,” I said “Congratulations.” He grinned and pulled Essie close to his side.
Thank’s Jerrod,” he said “and I will be saying the same to you tomorrow. Where is my aunt? I want to set her straight on a few matters.”
“I think she is upstairs in her room,” I replied, “Has been all day. She and Sam had a fight earlier and she has not come down stairs since.”
“That figures.,” Brian replied “Well, tonight and tomorrow, let’s keep our secret , Jerrod. I don’t want anything or anyone to ruin the day for you or my sister. Now, were can I find some blankets?”
“Blankets?” I inquired. Then I realized that why he wanted them was none of my business. “Esparanza will get some for you.”
“Thanks,” Brian replied. He and Essie were off to the kitchen and I went back to the bunk house to get cleaned up for the evening. It would be my last night there. Ely and Floyd could have it. Varmints and all.

Victoria returned to the kitchen to help Esparanza get the last minute details done. Guests were arriving and dinner was going to be served by seven o’clock in the evening. She had calmed down from her altercation with Lillie and Doc remained alone on the front porch watching the sun set. Brian, with his giggling bride in tow stepped out of the open double doors and onto the porch. Brian had two bright colored Indian blankets over his arm and Essie had a basket of food.
“Where are you two going,?” Doc asked as he lit his smoke and blew out the match. Essie blushed a red as an apple, and Brian stopped short surprised by his uncle standing there in the shadows by the swing. “Ah, Uncle Elliot,” he stammered “I-we. Are going on a picnic.”
Doc eyed him in mock suspicion. “Picnic? We got eighteen people coming for dinner and you are going on a picnic? Brian, you have been back East far too long.”
“Alright,” Brian confessed “You are going to find out anyway when you talk to your wife, so I will flat out tell you. Essie and I got married this afternoon. We are going to spend our wedding night in the hay loft.”
“Now I know you are crazy,” Doc teased “Why not be “civilized” and stay in your room upstairs?”
“Sherrif Stevens,” Essie intervened “It was my idea. I have been in the city all my life and I love the horses, so does Brian and ....”
“It’s Doc, Essie,” Doc said “And wherever you two want to spend the night in your business. I see Victoria got you all fixed up. “
”She sure did,” Brian replied “That wife of yours in a wonderful woman and the best cook I have ever known. Uncle Elliot,” Brian added “I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself. I will tell Aunt Lillie when the time is right.”
“Son, I was at Shiloh,” Doc replied “That was one of the worst battles of the war, but you.. telling your aunt about this is going to make that battle look like it was nothing.”
“Oh, it gets worse than that,” Brian said as he started for the front step “Essie and I are planning to stay in Texas. Sam needs me. I think her sorrel mare may be in foal. But I won’t be sure until I check her in the morning.”
Doc beamed “If she is, that will be the next best wedding gift Sam receives tomorrow.” he said.
“What’s the first?” Brian asked as they started for the barn.
“Bently.,” Doc replied. He watched the two young people disappear through the barn doors. “Tomorrow,” he said to himself “I give the closest thing to a daughter I have away. It feels right, but sad at same time. “ Some one was calling him to help light the lanterns through out the yard while the women brought out the feast.
The chilli was the best in Texas, just as Doc had promised. Esparanza and just finished piling sugar cookies on a tray. They had become a favorite of everyone on the ranch. She had shooed Doc out of her kitchen twice since Victoria went to her room to change, and now she heard the door opening again. “Doc!,” she stated firmly, her Spanish accent very prevalent “I thought I told you to...” She stopped short and smiled as Scrub Pot stepped in the back door, and removed his white hat. “I hope I am not interrupting anything,” he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. “I wanted to ask you something?”
The portly cook motioned him to sit down at the kitchen table where she poured him coffee and sent a generous plate of her cookies in front of him. “I heard the news about your Grandson,” she said warmly “Everyone is falling in love.”
“Humph,” Scrub Pot grumbled “And I have been a busy man since the summer when I married an old Pawnee Squaw and a Scotsman, then Doc and Victoria and next will be my Sam. Tell me, Esparanza? Did you and your husband have any children?”
She sat down next to him “Yes,” she said “two boys.”
Scrub Pot took a cookie and broke it , offering half to Esparanza. “Then you don’t know how it feels to see a daughter or granddaughter married away.”
“It is the same with a son, “ the woman replied “I cried for days after my youngest married. But I decided that his wife, who is a dear girl was someone I had gained. “
”I can not help it,” Scrub Pot confessed “God forgive me, but I am a selfish old man where Sam is concerned. Jerrod will be good to her, of that I am sure, but giving her up to him is much harder than I expected it would be.
“You were more of a father to her than grandfather, “ Esparanza replied sympathetically as she accepted the half cookie from him. “Think as I have. You are gaining a son, and then one day there will be grand children and great grand children.” Gently, his calloused hand covered her’s. “Will you sit with me after the wedding tomorrow, Esparanza?.” he asked. “All that dancing and celebrating is going to wear me out. I am not a young warrior anymore.”
The woman was surprised by what he had asked. “I have much to do tomorrow,” she said “But I will be pleased to sit beside you and watch the young people.” He patted her hand. “Thank you,” he said as he rose from the chair. She got up too and returned to her duties, but when she looked around again, Scrub Pot was gone. She had never heard the door open or close. “Handsome old fellow,” she thought, then admonished herself for thinking that way. She had been a widow for the last fifteen years.


The evening was cool and clear as the stars began to wink in the dusky sky. A large bon fire blazed in the place where Doc had been cooking earlier and many of the guests of the Flying S had gathered around. Ely Jax, was playing his guitar and his brother the fiddle. Despite his black eye, he seemed very happy, his Ellen was sitting next to him. Doc made sure Victoria had her shawl around her shoulders and then he went back into the house to confront his sister. Lillie had not come down for dinner or turned up to receive Sam and Jerrod’s guests. For the entire two weeks that she had been on the Flying S, Doc knew this was coming as, she had made it very clear that she wanted to be in control of every thing and everyone. He wished he had never written her and told her Sam was getting married, but then, Brian would not have come and for that he was grateful. He climbed the stairs and tapped on the closed door. “Lillie, it’s Elliot. I want to talk to you.”
A moment later, the door slowly opened. It was obvious that she was packing to leave, as there were open trunks and satchels all over the bedroom floor and bed. It looked like the woman and brought every stitch of clothing she had with her. “You didn’t come down to dinner,” Doc said as he entered. Through the open window, he could hear the music starting and the laughter and merriment going on outside.
“Your wife is a bully!,” Lillie spit.
That was all Doc needed to set him off. “Mind what you say Lillie,” he warned “Victoria only told you the truth, and I will thank you to not mention it again.”
“I am leaving on the first stage out of Grants Creek in the morning,” she sniveled “I never stay where I am not wanted, and Samantha, oh, she is such an ungrateful girl. I worked so hard and spent so much money on that beautiful dress for her and she hates it.”
“Sam never asked you for anything, Lillie,” Doc replied coolly “Have you ever thought of her once during all of this and realized that this is HER wedding and not yours?”
“Of course I have,” Lillie argued “and where is Essie. She will have to help me with this packing, and you will have to take me to the hotel. You will also tell Brian we are leaving. “
That cold look in his eyes always scared her, even when they were children. “No body’s going anywhere, Lillie and we are going to have a talk, right here and now.”, Doc growled. “Now SIT DOWN!”
“A-all right, Elliot,” she stammered as she took a step backward, away from him.
“First of all, Lillie Belle Stevens-Black, Essie is not coming to help you pack,” Doc stated firmly, “She is done with you and your misery.”
“Whatever do you mean, Elliot?,” Lillie said “I pay her well to assist me.”
“I mean, that she is done,” Doc replied flatly “She won’t be going back to Philadelphia with you and neither will Brian.” The woman stared back at her brother, shocked and dumbfounded by what he had just said. “Brian and Essie eloped to Bear Claw today and Zachariah married them there in his cabin,” he stated victoriously.
“Well, I will have the marriage annulled,” Lillie countered “He is...”
“Twenty two and she is eighteen,” Doc replied “and I am pretty sure that by now they have consummated their vows.”
Lillie’s pinched face turned scarlet with rage. “Give it up, Lillie and forget it,” Doc replied “There is nothing you can do. They are married and tomorrow Sam and Jerrod will be married too. If you want to stay for the wedding you are welcome to, but you WILL keep a civil tongue in your head and you will not ruin the day for Sam. Understand?”
“Is Brian planning to stay here in this dreadful place?”, she squeaked.
“Yes,” Doc replied “As a matter of fact, the boy told me that just a little while ago. Sam needs him here.”
Tears of rage began to pour down her face. “You are lying, Elliot!,” she accused “Brian would never leave me.”
“I don’t lie, Lillie,” Doc countered “It’s too much trouble and causes too many problems. “Now, you will do as I say, or I will see you locked in this room until I have time to drive you and all those bags of yours to the stage depot.”
He strolled out of the room, but paused, his hand on the door knob. “You know Lillie, a very long time ago, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. It changed my life and everything around me.” , he said “Guess my faith is what saved my life.”
She was trembling with anger “I go to a fine church in Philadelphia, and hear sermons every Sunday,” she retorted.
“Well, the bible is there on the night stand if you change your mind,” Doc said as he closed the door and walked away.

Sam and I lay together on a blanket we’s spread out, looking up at the stars above us. Our guests had either gone home or were camped out near the barns or in the house. It had been a wonderful evening. Her head lay on my shoulder, my arms around her. “Are you scared about tomorrow?”, she asked. Gently I kissed her on the forehead. “No,” I replied “are you?”
“No,” she replied “I am looking forward to it. I just hope that Aunt Lillie won’t make a mess of things.”
I knew where Doc had gone earlier and I was not about to tell this beautiful young woman whom in a few hours would be my wife, that he had had a talk with “Aunt Lillie.” Lillie still seemed to believe that I was one of “the New York Bentlys”, and to like me for that reason. So I just played along. Surely she would return to Philadelphia soon.”
“I am glad Brian is staying,” she said “He’s changed a lot over the years.”
“I imagine he favors your father,” I said “do you remember him at all, Sam?”
“No,” she answered “But after tonight with so many people here and all of them talking about him and Doc and all the adventures they had , I feel like I know him well.”
I rolled her over in my arms. “I love you, Sam Dodge,” I said “But we best get inside for the night. Don’t want any “talk.” in the morning.”
Her inviting lips were inches from mine, “The judge gave us thirty days to marry,” she said “I am glad we are not waiting that long.”
“Me either,” I replied. I never wanted to let her go, and after tomorrow she would be mine forever and always. I guess I’d done pretty well for a boy off the docks of New York Harbor. She pressed her finger gently to my lips. “Jerrod,” she said “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?
“Yes. But you can not see it until tomorrow night.” Then she giggled, and it made me wonder what she was planning.

++++++++++

With This Ring


It was a little after dawn on the morning of the wedding and it looked like it was going to be a pretty North Texas day. It was at this early hour when not even the rooster had crowed yet, that lone rider rode up to the front of the ranch house calling out for Doc Stevens. Doc was a lawman, and someone waking him at this hour could only mean trouble. He rose from his bed, leaving Victoria sound asleep , pulled on his pants and boots and grabbed his gun as he started out the door. The rider continued to call out his name. Doc stepped out onto the porch “Keep it down,” he stated “Do you want to wake the whole house?.”
“No”, the man relied “Just you, if you are Elliot “Doc” Stevens?”
“This had better be good, “ Doc growled as he half buttoned the shirt he’d pulled on over his shoulders when he hurried down the stairs. The rider rummaged in his saddle bag and pulled out a securely wrapped parcel and handed it down to him. “This here is a special delivery from one Jacob D. Titus, Attorney at Law.” he said . Doc took the parcel and looked it over. Something from Titus had him a little worried. “Thanks,” he replied “Want to come in and have some coffee? The cook gets up early. The man tipped his hat , “Thanks kindly, sir,” he said, “But I’ve got a few more deliveries. “ He was gone down the lane in the next second. Doc returned to the porch sat down on the swing. He unwrapped the box and pulled it open. Inside was a folded letter and a small decorative wooden box. Doc unfolded the paper and began to read.


Howdy Doc,

I think may be with all the commotion here with the trial and all, you might have forgotten about this shipment you had coming in from that jeweler in New Orleans. It arrived just after you and your posse left for Texas. So I am forwarding it on to you. Figure you will know what to do with it. All is well here in Portersville, I had to lock up Old Pede for being drunk, but that is about it. I hope Sam and Jerrod got married and moved on to their ranch. A fine young couple to say the least of them. My Suzy is marrying Hap the III come this Sunday. Hap turned out to be a half decent deputy sherrif and he came to me like a man and asked for my girl. Think I might even like the boy one day, but if he hurts her, I’ll put him in the ground. The deed to the Double J is at the bank and J.W. and I have signed all the papers in advance for when you and Victoria get home. Hope all is well and that we will be seeing you back home soon.

Your friend,
Jake Titus.

PS
Please tell Victoria we miss her at the bake shop. J.W. is doing just fine with it in her place, but there hasn’t been any pie for weeks.


Doc smiled. He was thinking of home and the future. He had a secret and at the right time, he would show it to Victoria. His prayers had been answered, and he had been blessed. What was once Titus’s 300 acre ranch called the Double J would soon become The Two Hearts One Love Ranch. His work here was almost done, and soon he and his wife would return to the Oklahoma Territory to begin a new life there. He pulled open the wooden box, and there nestled in rich black velvet were three rings, Victoria’s diamond engagement ring, her matching wedding band and his own ring made of plain thick California gold. Their names and date of their wedding were engraved inside each one. It had taken months , and the cost has set him back a little, but that did not matter to Doc. He wanted Victoria to know what those rings meant to them both and he knew she would. He smiled thoughtfully , thinking of his sister Sarah for a moment. “She’s all grown up, Sarah,’ he said to himself “You’d be proud to see her and to know her. I am giving her away to the man she will marry in just a few hours and I think it will be the hardest thing I have ever done.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, then walked back into the house and up the stairs to his room.
Victoria was out of their bed and standing in front of the mirror brushing her long blonde hair when Doc quietly opened the door and walked in. She paused amid stroke, her hair brush in hand. “What was all the commotion, honey?”, she asked, grateful that she had not had morning sickness for a while now.
“An express rider?”, Doc replied with a grin “Take off your wedding ring?”, he added.
“Why?”, she asked “I never take it off, you know that, Doc. It is bad luck.”
“Humor me, Vic,” he prodded “Take it off and close your eyes.”
She set her hair brush down and pulled the plain golden band off her finger. “All right Doc,” she said as she lay it on the dresser “My eyes are closed.”
“Good,” he said as he took her hand and slid her sparkling matched rings on her finger. Victoria’s brown eyes flew open in great surprise. “Oh Doc,” she sighed “They are beautiful.”
“For my beautiful wife,” he said as he handed her his ring. “I never wore one of these before,” he added “but I want the world to know that I am yours and you are mine.” She took the ring from him and slid it on his left hand , fourth finger. “I love you , Elliot Stevens,” she said as he drew her into his arms. He kissed her in a way that made her wish they had time to return to the bed they had shared. As Doc broke away from their intimate kiss, he whispered to her “I’ll be back in a little while.” She turned and took up her brush again and smiled at him. He would hurry.
A short while later, Doc walked into the bunk house. I was awake. And I was ready to go over to the kitchen to see if Esparanza had made coffee yet. I was getting married today and I could not endure another pot of Ely Jax’s brew. It was worse than Scrub Pot’s had been on the trail. I was a little surprised to see Doc at this early hour.
“Mornin’ Doc,” I said “Is there something wrong?”
“No,” he replied “I have something for you to give to Sam.”
He placed the small gold ring in my hand. “This was her Momma’s wedding ring,” he said “The night Victoria and I were married, she gave it to me because at the time I had no ring to give my wife. She told me it was a wedding gift. Sarah died when Sam was not even two years old, Jerrod and this is all she has left to remember her mother.”
He looked me in the eye , his misty. “When you marry my niece today, you put this on her finger, that is where it belongs.” I could tell he was kind of choked up as he turned to leave. “Doc?”, I said as I looked at the simple golden band. “Thank you, but what about Victoria?”
“An express rider came through just a little while ago,” Doc said “The rings I sent for from New Orleans came to the office in Portersville. Jake Titus sent them to me. “
”That’s good,” I said as I carefully put the ring in pocket of my dungarees. “I’m heading over to the kitchen. Is Sam up yet?”
“Don’t know,” he replied as he walked out the door “See you at the wedding.” He seemed to be in a hurry, so I went on my way to the main house. The wedding was to be held at one o’clock and I hoped everything would go smoothly. As I thought about Sam’s Aunt Lillie I wished that we’d eloped like Brian and Essie had. When I reached the back door of the kitchen, I could smell the coffee and knew Esparanza was at work. What I did not expect to find was that she had company and she was feeding him breakfast. “Good morning, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot said as he poured molasses over a stack of buckwheat cakes. The Mexican cook smiled at me as she stirred a pot on the stove. “Sit down, bridegroom,” she said “You will not be eating with the ranch hands this morning.” For that I was grateful.

Sam woke up with the early morning sun streaming through her window. Today was the day that The Flying S would legally become hers just as soon as she was a married woman. At one time that was all that had mattered to her, and she had not expected to fall in love. But now it seemed that Jerrod Bently had always been in her life. At first he annoyed her, then his courage and willingness impressed her. Sam was a stubborn girl and admitting to her feelings about him had been hard, but they could not be denied. After today, she would be forever changed. Jerrod had been there for her when she needed him the most, and somewhere between Texas and Portersville, she had fallen hard for him and knew she could not live the rest of her life without him in it. His crooked smile and those blue eyes of his just melted her, even when she was furious with him. He was far beyond just a handsome man, he was beautiful both outside and with in and how she loved the way he made her feel when they were together. “Together,” she whispered to herself “like Victoria and Uncle Elliot.”
There came a light tapping on her door. “Sam?” It was Victoria. “Are you up?”
“Come on in,” Sam replied with a yawn.
Victoria opened the door and came in, carrying with her a lovely pastel blue dress she bought at a dress shop in Waco. She held it in front of herself , showing it to Sam. “What do you think?”, she asked.
“It’s pretty,”Sam replied as she got up out of her bed and crossed the room to sit down at a dark wooden dressing table. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him what?”, Victoria replied absently as she toyed with the lace on the scooped neckline of the dress she was planning to wear for the wedding.
“The baby.,” Sam prompted “I was looking at you last night and it isn’t much yet, but it looks to me like you are starting to show a little.”
Victoria ran her hands over the front of the calico dress she had on. “It is a little tight,” she said with a sly smile. “I will tell him today.”
Sam began to brush her long dark hair “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, honey,” Victoria replied as she lay the new dress down on the bed.
“Remember when I was trying on all those things, with that dress that Aunt Lillie brought?
“Yes,” Victoria replied “I told you that I did not think you needed them.”
“I know,” Sam replied “But I kind of liked the way they made me look. And you said you thought Jerrod would like it.” Victoria giggled and blushed a little. “Oh.” she said knowingly “I think I understand. You want to wear that corset and those fancy lace drawers under your mother’s wedding dress.”
Sam blushed too, “Yes,” she said slyly” But not that bustle. I want to surprise Jerrod. A Blackfoot bride doesn’t wear anything under her dress, but I think I will.”
“I love it!,” Victoria agreed “Where is the dress. I have not seen it yet.” A look of panic came over Sam’s face. “Oh no!,” she cried “I left it in the cabin over at Bear Claw.” Victoria was a woman who easily took charge when it looked like things might be staring to fall apart. Sam looked at the large white box sitting next to her dresser and glowered at it “I am not wearing that contraption,” she stated firmly.
“How far it is over to Bear Claw?”, Victoria asked “Fancy is a very fast horse, and I think I could make it and back in time if I leave right now.”
“You are pregnant, Aunt Victoria, “ Sam replied as she started to gather her riding clothes “I will go myself.”
“Sam it is your wedding day,” Victoria defended “You can’t... “ The knock that sounded on the door cut her off. It was Essie Wilburn-Dodge. “I heard you two in here and thought I would stop by to wish you the best,” she said as she walked in. “The best may not happen, Essie,” Sam replied worriedly “the dress I was planning to wear today is still at grandfather’s cabin. “
Essie looked at her “I- I can go,” she said “I remember the way.” Sam had ridden back from the cabin with her and Brian the day before and was confidant that she was a good enough rider to do it.
“It’s about an hour’s ride, Essie,” Sam said “ Do you think you can make it?
“Yes,” the girl who was now her sister- in- law replied “I can. Where is the dress?”
“I left it on the table. There are a few other bundles with it. Bring them all.”
“Give me a good horse, and I will be back here as quickly as possible,” Essie promised.
“All right,” Sam replied “Go tell Brian to saddle my mare. She is the fastest horse I have other than my stud and no one rides him but me. Desert Rose will get you there and back fast..”
Essie whirled around “I will be back in plenty of time.” she said and ran from the room shouting for Brian. A very short time later, Sam and Victoria heard her leaving. Sam ran to the window and watched Essie on Desert Rose race down the lane to the back fields. Sam turned to Victoria and smiled “She rides right well for a city girl,” she said “I think she will do just fine here in Texas.”
“Me too,” Victoria agreed. “Can I help you with your hair.”
Sam sat down at her dressing table again. In the drawer were strings of colorful Indian beads. She showed them to Victoria, “Want to braid these into my hair?”, she asked. “Like I showed you back in Porterville.”
Victoria laughed “I remember,” she said “ Let’s get started and hope that Essie makes it back here fast.”
Victoria had just lifted the glossy dark strands and was reaching for the first string of beads when the door opened and in walked Lillie Stevens-Black. “Ah, Samantha,” she cooed “Your wedding day is finally here. The most important day of a young woman’s life.”
“Good morning, Aunt Lillie,” Sam replied warily as Victoria picked up the hair brush and brushed Sam’s long hair . Lillie seemed to ignore her sister- in- law as she bustled about the room, pulling that dreadful wedding dress and all the accessories out and laying them on the bed. “There,” she said in great satisfaction “I have it all ready for you.” She turned to Victoria “Have you seen my maid?” Victoria continued to gather Sam’s tresses together “No, Lillie,” she lied “I haven’t. Go ask Doc. Maybe he has seen her.”
“Elliot, dear,” the woman corrected “I have never understood why my brother uses such a ridiculous pseudonym. “
”I think Doc suits him just fine,” Victoria stated firmly “Now Lille Belle, don’t you have something to do?” The cold look in her brown eyes told Lillie that it was time to leave Sam’s bedroom and go on about her business.
“Of course,” she stammered as she went to the door “You will need my help with the dress,” she added, “Call me when you are ready. I am going to the kitchen to supervise Esparanza. I just detest lazy servants!”
If the brush she held in her hand had not been Sam’s favorite one, Victoria would have gladly hurled it at Lillie’s head, but she thought better of it and just smiled. Surely after the wedding this dreadful woman would be on the first stage out of town to return to her beloved Philadelphia. “If Doc doesn’t throttle her I will,” Sam ground out as she glared after her aunt.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Victoria replied “We are going to have a big surprise for her when Essie gets back. Sam glanced over at the bed where Lillie had piled all the wedding garments including the corset and fancy drawers she was planning to wear and burst out laughing and she laughed until tears were rolling down her face . “We sure will,” she got out between giggled “And I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I,” Victoria agreed. “Now, Sam. How do you want me to do your hair?”
“Like a Blackfoot bride,” she answered “Want me to show you how to do it?”


+++++++++++


I was not allowed to see Sam. It was bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding as I had been told by her Aunt Lillie. That was all right, for all of those months I ‘d waited for Sam, a few more hours weren’t going to matter. Victoria had assured me, earlier that morning when we met in the kitchen, that the wait would be well worth my time. Brian seemed a little nervous and worried about something and kept watching the back forty. I was not aware that he was anxiously waiting for his bride to return from Bear Claw. It was about an hour before we would say our vows and already guests for the wedding had begun to arrive. I watched Lillie Steven-Black as she greeted everyone and showed them where to put gifts, and where to sit. One would have gotten the impression that SHE owned the Flying S instead of Sam. However, she seemed to be pretty good with people, but I was glad she had not had time to look up and see Brian and me sitting on the step waiting for whatever it was that Brian was so anxious about. I’d seen Doc a few times since he’d come by the bunk house and give me Sam’s ring. I knew that everyone was somewhere doing something, and at the chosen time, we’d all assemble in our designated places. Strangely enough, I did not feel nervous at all, but Brian was up and walking the porch. Where was Essie? I ‘d passed the corral a few times in my travels that morning, but had not noticed that Desert Rose was gone or Trouble pacing and as nervous as my best man seemed to be. As Brian Dodge paced about the front porch of the ranch house, my thoughts turned to Scrub Pot and the early morning breakfast we’d enjoyed in Esparanza’s kitchen. What was going on between those two? When we got back to Grant’s Creek at the end of the summer, they seemed to really dislike one another, but now, something had changed. Oh well, it was none of my business . I looked down at the white linen wedding shirt Sam had gotten for me as a gift. It was a perfect fit when I pulled it on and looked at my reflection in that old mirror that hung in the bunk house. I’d changed a lot since my days in New York. My shoulders seemed much broader and maybe I stood a little taller than the five foot eight inch measure my Ma told me I was. Sam thought I was a handsome man, and never failed to tell me so. I loved her so much and in just a little while, we’d finally be saying our vows. I loved it all, her, the horses the ranch and Texas.


Victoria laced the delicate satin corset up the back and pulled it closed around Sam’s narrow waist “All right Sam,” she said “I am going to pull it tight now. Ready?”
“Not too tight,” Sam cautioned “I want to be able to breathe and I sure hope Essie gets back soon. We are running out of time.”
“Have faith, Sam,” Victoria replied as she began pulling laces “She’ll be here.”
“I hope so,” Sam said as she looked down at the corset and fancy lace drawers she had on,”I don’t want to get married in this.”
“Floyd Jax told me he’d never ridden a horse that was faster than your Desert Rose is, Sam. “ Victoria replied confidently “Bear Claw is not that far away. Essie will make it.”
A sharp knock sounded at the door again “Samantha?” Lillie called “Are you ready yet?” You know you don’t have much time.” The door opened and she swept in, giving her niece and Victoria a haughty look. Then she smiled when she saw Sam wearing the under garments she’d brought, “all the way from Philadelphia.”
“Samantha, it is too warm for you to put the dress on yet,” she rattled on “And what about your hair? Victoria? I would have thought you would have had that done by now. You will be wearing it up with the veil?” Victoria and Sam looked at one another. “I am doing her hair right now,” Victoria replied “Why don’t you go down stairs and check on the wedding cake. I’d feel a lot better to know that Doc brought it up from the spring house for me.”
“Very well,” Lillie replied “I have to work so hard to make things right. And, by the way, Victoria. Have you heard any thing about from or about my maid? She has been gone since last night. Surely those dreadful savages haven’t carried her off.”
“No,” Victoria replied, trying not to laugh out loud, “I don’t know where she is.”
“That ungrateful girl is out of a job when we get home to Philadelphia,” Lillie stated firmly “She is just too independent for her own good.” Sam bit her lower lip, trying not to burst out laughing and she could tell that Victoria was trying to remain serious too. Obviously, her aunt had no idea that Essie and Brian were planning to stay in Texas. “I’ll be back to check on you,” Lillie bantered “and get her hair up, Victoria. In Philadelphia , the cats and rats and mice style is all the rage. It is perfect for Samantha. If you don’t know how to do it, I will help you.”
At that Lillie bustled away to oversee the wedding cake. Sam and Victoria both heaved a sigh of relief as her left the room. “That was close,’ Sam said worriedly. At that moment they heard a horse coming fast up the trail from the back forty. Victoria closed her eyes “Thank you Lord,” she said. Sam flew to the window. “It’s Essie!“ she cried. Victoria whirled around and raced out the door and down the steps. She streaked passed Doc and Scrub Pot who were about to step outside to greet guests. It was twelve thirty by the tall grandfather clock in the foyer. Victoria sprinted to the paddock where Brian was taking charge of the lathered, heaving mare. “Essie,” Victoria cried “Give it to me!” Quickly Essie threw her two wrapped bundles, before she was even out of the saddle. “You did good, Essie!,” Victoria said “Now come get dressed we have very little time.”
Victoria was back in the house and in Sam’s room a few seconds later. Sam Dodge had never been so relieved as she was as her aunt handed her the bundles. There were tears in her eyes as she unrolled them on the bed, pushing aside all the lace and ruffles that lay there. “It was my Grandmother’s wedding dress,” Sam said “My mother wore it when she married my father.” She shook the beautiful doe skin garment out and held it in front of her. “Oh,” Victoria marveled “It is just beautiful. So perfect and it is you. It is who your are.”
“Siksika,” Sam said with tears of joy in her dark eyes.
“Blackfoot,” Victoria replied with a warm and loving smile “And you will look like a princess in that dress.”

++++++++++


It was a glorious late autumn day. Early November with a crisp morning and a golden afternoon. The sherrif of Grant’s Creek showed up with his wife and family and from Bear Claw there were all those “wild savages” who had been happy to help Sam procure ownership of the Flying S Ranch and to rid themselves of a bad neighbor. Wolf Standing and his family were there in full regalia . Two cultures coming together for the uniting of a young couple.
From the parlor window, Scrub Pot looked out watching the people being seated on the chairs and benches that had been brought outside from the house. A tear was in his eye but he quickly blinked it away. “Why Zachariah Dodge!,” Doc declared as he walked in on the old man’s solitude “You look like a real preacher.” Scrub Pot was wearing a new pair of dungarees , his favorite boots , a white linen shirt with a vest made of deer skin. His long grey and black hair was in it’s traditional thick single braid and around his neck he wore a black bolo tie, tipped with silver that matched the slide. He looked elegantly handsome , his gray hat sitting on the parlor table next to his bible and his book of service.
“The women folk are still upstairs,” Doc said “My wife tells me that I can’t go up there. So I guess I will just wait here with you,” he added as he looked around the room. “Where is Bently?”
“Have faith, Elliot.,” Scrub Pot answered “He will be here. I gave Brian my shot gun a little while ago.”
Doc burst out laughing “No need for that, you old coyote,” he guffawed. Scrub Pot shot him a glare. “I didn’t give it to him for THAT!,” he stated “Esparanza wants to cook a rabbit and Brian said he would shoot one for her.” Doc chuckled as he sat down in one of the high backed leather chairs and set his black hat on his knee. He was wearing a clean crisp white linen shirt with a silk striped vest. His silver watch chain led down to his watch pocket, but he was not thinking of checking the time. His boots were clean and oiled and around his neck he wore a bolo trimmed in silver and turquoise. He was a very handsome man, his white hair trimmed and beard neatly clipped. He smiled when he recalled how his wife had winked at him and told him so.
“She’s happy,” he said breaking the silence between him and the old man. “And I am very glad to know that,” he added reflectively “But all morning I’ve been thinking about the past, seeing her as a baby in Sarah’s arms and how Joe was so thrilled that their second child was a little girl. I saw her as dirty faced little warrior on her first pony. We watched her grow up and now we give her away.”
Silently Scrub Pot continued to gaze out of the window watching people still arriving and listening to Doc. “I dreamed about her Pa last night,” Doc continued quietly “It should have been Joe taking her to her husband today, not me.”
“But you will do as he would have done for you if the roles had been reversed Elliott,” Scrub Pot said. “My son died a Christian man. He is in Heaven watching his daughter as he always has.”
“I know,” Doc replied “Just wish that Joe was here to see his children and to walk Sam down the isle. But in just a few minutes, it will be me who does that honor.”
“It is as it should be,” the old man replied a he turned to pick up his books. The parlor door opened and in walked Brian Dodge and Jerrod Bently. “Well, gentlemen,” Scrub Pot said “Shall we go out?”
Doc heard his wife call to him. “I think the ladies are ready,” he said.
Essie, dressed in green came down the stairs, carrying a bouquet of wild flowers. Victoria was right behind her in that lovely blue dress, she carried the same wild flowers, blue bells and Indian paint brushes. She smiled at Doc as he stood by foot of the stairs.
Now those ladies looked beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and there I was with Brian waiting in the parlor and hoping I’d see Sam, but I was ushered outside before I could catch even a glimpse of her and found myself standing under the trees in the front of the house with Scrub Pot and Brian. So there we were, waiting while Scrub Pot opened his book. The guests were all talking in hushed tones, I saw Aunt Lillie smiling that smug smile of hers and seated in the front row, dressed in a very formal, dark green ball gown, and I am not really sure what it was that she had on her head, but to me it looked like a bird cage and suddenly I wanted to laugh out loud.
Back inside Doc stood patiently looking up the stairs as Victoria and Essie waited by the door. Then she appeared at the top of the steps, dressed in her mother’s wedding dress and tall moccasins. Her long dark hair fell to her waist, loose and free with two strands of beads braided at the sides and down the back. A narrow beaded head band was across her forehead. She was more than beautiful, she was exquisite. This gutsy cowgirl wrangler had transformed into a true Native American princess and the sight of her brought tears to his eyes. She seemed to float as she walked down the stairs. Doc stared at her and reached up to remove his hat out of respect. Sam raised her hand, “No,” she said “When I see you in my memories past and present, you have your hat on. Please wear it. “ He nodded as she walked down the stairs. “You are beautiful, honey girl,’ he whispered as he kissed her gently on the cheek. Tears were in her eyes as she looked back at him “I love you Uncle Elliot, “ she said. He offered her his arm, “I love you too, Sam,” he said with a sniff.
Essie walked out first, alone and smiling as the guests fell silent and watching as she took her place to the left of where we stood. At first Lillie Stevens-Black might have thought her eyes were deceiving her as Essie passed her, but then they narrowed. Brian gave her a warning look and she looked away. Then Victoria walked out, looking elegant and radiant. She smiled at Lille Stevens-Black as she passed her, trying to ignore that hat she had on and not laugh.
Then, everyone stood up when Sam and Doc appeared on the front step. She was breathtaking and I had never seen her look so beautiful in that white doeskin dress. She was proud of who she was and it showed. I was overcome as I watched her walk toward me, arm in arm with Doc. She was like a vision in a dream too beautiful to be real. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” Scrub Pot asked.
“Victoria and I,” Doc responded proudly “For Sarah and Joseph.” The groan in the background was not really noticed as Lillie Stevens- Black seemed to faint dead away in her chair. When Doc put Sam’s hand in mine, I felt the warmth and knew it wasn’t a dream. She smiled up at me and I thanked God for this moment. Doc took two steps back and seated himself next to Wolf Standing. Scrub Pot began the wedding service in his quiet eloquent way. Tears were on Sam’s cheeks when she made her vows to me and she reached up and wiped mine away with her delicate touch as I vowed to love, honor and forsake all others. Then Scrub Pot asked for the ring. Brian handed it to him. He blessed it and then handed that plain gold band to me. Sam looked at it and smiled, she knew the significance of having it returned to her. “With this ring, I thee wed, “ I said as I slipped it on her finger , unable to take my eyes off her as she spoke the same vow, never releasing my hand.. “I would remember how she looked up at me for the rest of my days.
“I now pronounce that Samantha Ann Dodge and Jerrod Adam Bently are husband and wife.” Scrub Pot paused and grinned a wide happy grin. “Jerrod,” he said “You may now kiss your bride.” and I did, long and passionately as I had wanted to for a while to the rousing cheers and out pouring of good wishes and congratulations.
“I now present to you all,” Scrub Pot said as he closed his book “Mr. And Mrs. Jerrod Adam Bently.” I put my arms around Sam and pulled her close, feeling the stays under the dress she wore. I kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear. “What are you wearing under that?” I asked. She looked up at me and blushed, then giggled “That is for me to know and you to find out.”
Victoria and Doc were the first to congratulate us and Brian had gone to get water for Aunt Lillie, who was still in her chair and coming around. I was not sure she had really fainted , but it did not matter. The music was starting and the celebration began.


The resurrection OF Joe Dodge


Lillie Stevens-Black might never get over seeing Sam walking down the front steps of the ranch house, wearing the beautiful white doeskin wedding dress. All the fancy fluff and veils Lillie brought from Philadelphia lay on the bed in Sam’s room as our wedding guests marveled at the exquisite bead work trim on her traditional Blackfoot wedding dress that had been worn by Alice Marley and Sarah Stevens , Sam’s grandmother and mother. The wedding was joyful and the reception filled with fellowship , good food , music, dancing and a three tier wedding cake baked by Victoria Stevens herself. Mr. and Mrs. Jerrod Bently, just married. From the paddock Trouble whinnied and snorted, telling all that he had a bride too. Desert Rose ignored him and continued to dine on the hay she had been given after her hard and fast ride to get Sam’s wedding dress to her in time.
It was the ragged stranger , slumped over and barely holding to the saddle on the back of a poor looking paint horse, that drew my attention away from my beautiful bride. Doc had noticed him too and today, he was not wearing his gun. Leaving Sam in the company of Essie, Victoria and several of her friends, I walked up to the man, and looked up into his sadly blank face. “Howdy Mister,” I said. He did not respond right away, just looked around himself as though trying to recognize where he was.
“Water,” he said “My horse needs water.”
“Over by the corral,” I replied “Take all you need.” Suddenly the man , who appeared to be half Indian, seemed overwhelmed by something unseen and uttered words in the language I’d heard Scrub Pot and Sam speak many times. That was when he slid from his saddle and hit the ground hard. The wedding guests did not seem to notice, as the celebration went on. Sam was surrounded by her friends, drovers , their wives and sweet hearts and was unaware of the stranger’s arrival. Suddenly Scrub Pot and Doc were at my side, trying to help the man who had fallen from the back of his horse.
“Go back to your wife,” Doc ordered “I will take care of this.” I rose and stepped back as the stranger opened his eyes. Scrub Pot went to his knees beside him. I saw a look of horror on his face, and then tears began to flow down his weathered cheeks, his mouth moved , but no words came. “My God!,” Scrub Pot breathed in utter disbelief, “It’s Joseph!.”
Suddenly the man was in the arms of the old Indian and he rocked him like a child, “My son. My son,” he wept, “Praise God.” As stunned as he was by Scrub Pot’s words, Doc got water for the man, and gently held the dipper to his dry lips for him to drink. Dazed eyes looked up into Scrub Pot’s weathered and now tear streaked face. “Father?,” he rasped.
“Yes, my boy,” the old man sobbed “It is I, your father.”
Doc stared at the stranger. It seemed that Joe Dodge had returned from the dead. But how? He’d buried Joe’s body himself all those years ago, marked the grave and yet, on the day of Sam’s wedding, had Joe Dodge had returned? By now there had been attention drawn to what was going on near the front paddock gate and people started to gather.
“Get him into the house,” I said.
“Who is he?”, Sam asked as she took my hand. Scrub Pot looked up her “A traveler in need, child,” he said , looking over at Doc, warning him not to say any thing.
We carried the man into the house and put him in an upstairs bed room. He was exhausted , starved and in dire need of a bath. In shock I turned to my bride. “What a day.,” I said as we waited outside the door of the room for Scrub Pot.
She smiled. “It’s our wedding day,” she said “Grandfather will tend to him for now. We have to go back outside and I want to cut Aunt Victoria’s cake soon!” I kissed her. I knew that no matter how hard we had to work, or the troubles we might face, we would make a wonderful life together. One life time with this woman would not be enough I thought selfishly.
Scrub Pot saw the man settled and came to the door where we waited. “Go now, see to your wedding guests,” he said “this man must rest and then we will learn his story.”
Sam nodded , then took my hand dragging me toward the stairs and then back outside. Our guests were enjoying the party and no one seemed to notice the thin paint horse in the paddock opposite the stud’s and no one inquired about the man who had been taken into the house.
The music went on playing, a waltz this time. “Now Sam,” I said apologetically “I am not a good dancer, but I will try. Will you dance with me?” She laughed that bright sweet laugh of her’s. “I don’t dance well either, so we will make a likely pair,” she added as I drew her into my arms. My beautiful, wife. My Sam. I had never been happier than I was that day. “How do you like the sound of it?”, I asked as we began our version of a waltz.
“Sound of what?” Sam asked.
“Your new name,” I replied.
“I like it just fine,” she giggled “Mrs. Jerrod Bently”
“Guess I am not a green horn anymore,” I teased.
“No, you are a real cowboy now,” she replied as she put her arms around my neck. I lifted her up into the air as all our friends began to cheer and clap.
“A toast to the bride and groom,” Brian Dodge shouted above the noise. Things calmed down a little as everyone raised their glasses.
“I never expected to get off the train from Philadelphia and end up here in Grants Creek to be best man at my baby sister’s wedding,” he said “For those of you who may not know me, I am Brian Dodge, Sam’s brother. I salute you Jerrod. You too Sammy. May you have a long and happy life and many little Bentlys.” Everyone drank to his best wishes for us but then he raised his hand to speak again. “Folks, I forgot to mention something that is going to be very important to my sister today. Back in Philadelphia, they call me Doctor Brian Dodge. And I am the best veterinarian in the state of Pennsylvania! Sam,” he added “ I checked you Desert Rose this morning and she is in foal. Congratulations.”
Sam jumped for joy. Her dreams were coming true and I could not have been a happier man. But I knew a secret about the man up stairs in one of our bedrooms. How was I going to tell her that man being cared for upstairs in our house might be her father, whom she thought to be dead for all of her life?
The celebration went on well into the evening with more good food, music and dancing. Doc whirled Victoria into a reel. “Well, Sherrif,” she said as she moved along with him, “Where have you been? You missed them cutting the cake.” He smiled down at her. “Sorry, Honey,” he apologized “I was helping Scrub Pot.”
“You looked mighty handsome when you gave the bride away,” she complimented. “And she looks beautiful in her momma’s wedding dress.” Doc grinned as they danced. “ That contraption my sister brought from up North was not what my girl needed to be wearing on her wedding day.”
“It is good that she clings to her heritage like she does,” Victoria replied “I was proud to stand up with her today.”
“And you were a beautiful matron of honor, Vic,” he said “Sam is a beautiful bride. But she could not hold a candle to you on our wedding day.”
She smiled up at him as the dance ended. “Oh Doc,” she said, “You are such a romantic.” He just grinned that cockeyed grin and slid his arm around her narrow waist. “Let’s get some punch,” he said “There is something I want to tell you and it is very important.”
“There is something I want to tell you too,” she replied. Victoria had kept silent about the baby until she was sure there was one. Now it was time to tell Doc that he was going to be a father.
A smiling Lilly Greyhorse ladled punch into two glass cups and handed them to Doc.
“Thanks,” he said “and when are you and Little Fox tying the knot?”
“One more horse,” Lillie giggled “and everyone will all be dancing at our wedding.”
Doc handed the brimming cup to his wife and they walked up the steps of the ranch house. The found a quiet corner of the long porch. There were a few empty chairs where they sat down. That was good, Victoria said to herself, as she was not sure how her husband was going to take her news. “Did you see that man we took up stairs earlier?,” Doc said as he sipped his drink thoughtfully “I do not know how, or who or why, but that fellow may be Sam and Brian’s father, Joe Dodge.”
A shiver of great surprise ran down Victoria’s spine. “Joe Dodge?” she questioned “I thought you told me he was dead.”
“Thought he was.,” Doc replied “For over twenty years. I thought I buried him after the Caldero gang burned Bear Claw, and his children were left to grow up without him and then their momma died of influenza a year later. Sam was barely two years old when she and Brian were left with me and the old man. If that fellow is Joe Dodge, he’s been out there all those years, alive. I don’t know if I should put a bullet in him or praise God that he some how survived.”
”Are you sure it is your friend, Doc?” Victoria asked.
“Scrub Pot knows, ” Doc replied “and part of me hopes that it is Joe, and part of me wants him to be in that grave at Bear Claw.” Victoria set aside her cup of punch. “Does Sam know yet?,” she asked.
“No,” Doc replied “ Not yet. Don’t want their wedding day ruined by the past.”
“Good idea,” Victoria agreed, “Now Doc. I know you have had a kind of a shock this afternoon, and you have had a lot on your mind. ” she added , “But I have something to tell you. I want you to understand that I had to wait to make sure I was right so there would be no disappointment if I was wrong.”
He turned to his wife and looked at her funny. “What are you talking about Vic?”, he asked.
Demurely she looked down at her lap and smoothed the blue skirt of her dress a little nervously. “We are having a baby.,” she said.
Doc was silent. Victoria waited, biting her lip. Doc stared at his wife. “You rode Fancy all the way from Portersville.,” he said worriedly “It was a hard ride.”
“I know,” she replied. “Doc. I was fine when we left and I am fine now.”
He took her hands and drew them to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “You are sure you are all right?”, he asked.
“Right as rain,” she replied “ and as I figure it, you will be holding our baby in your arms in about seven months.”
“Boy or girl?” , Doc asked a proud grin crossing his face.
“How would I know?,” Victoria answered “We will just have to wait and see.”
Doc was surprised,, but very happy about Victoria’s news.
“We’re going to be a family.,” Doc replied “We need room and the cottage is to small. My son will need to have his own room.”
She lay her head on her husband’s shoulder “You are mighty sure it’s a boy, Doc. Will you be disappointed if it is a girl?”
He kissed her on the forehead. “No, Honey,” he said “Because that girl will be just like you.”
“Vic?”
“Yes, Doc.”
“Can I tell Scrub Pot?”
“If you want to.”


Doc was on his feet in seconds and dancing around the porch. “I love you, Vic,” he cried “We are going to have a baby!! Praise God!!” Several of the wedding guests who were passing by looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Anything wrong Uncle Elliott?” It was Brian Dodge who joined them on the porch, followed by Aunt Lillie Stevens-Black.
“No,” Doc replied with a happy smile “Nothing could be more right.” He looked at his sister’s sour expression. “You all right, Lillie?”, he asked “You look a little green.”
“Disappointed, Elliot.,” Lillie complained, “I am just mortified! Samantha looks like a savage, and on her wedding day no less.”
“Now Aunt Lillie,” Brian cautioned “You need to keep those opinions to yourself. You don’t want to offend any of our Indian friends here.”
“You know Brian, you are right.,” Doc agreed as he put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “I don’t think Wolf Standing or Scrub Pot have scalped anybody in years. That’s cause no one has offended them.” Victoria tried to stifle the giggle that rose in her throat. “But with that uprising and all a week or so ago,” he added “ I don’t know. May be you ought to high tail it back to Philadelphia, Lillie.”
“You forget, Elliot,” Lillie defended “I grew up in Texas too.”
“Could have fooled me. ,” Doc teased. “Now go on, sister and get over the thing with Sam’s dress. Sarah would have loved seeing her daughter wearing it on her wedding day.”
“I’ve thought about Sarah many times today.” Lillie said quietly “Samantha looks so much like her.”
“She does,” Doc agreed “But that dark hair is Joe.”
“I have to agree,” Victoria interjected “Sam is a beautiful girl. I don’t know how she got away with passing herself off as a boy to go on that cattle drive?”
“She dressed so no one could tell she was a girl.” Doc replied proudly “and even fooled Jerrod. But not for long.”
“Oh Elliot!,” Lillie scolded “Surely you are teasing. A cattle drive is no place for a proper young lady.”
“That was why the old coot and I went along,” he defended. “Now Lillie, if you will quit being so upset over this stupid social hoo haa, Victoria and I have something to tell you.”
Lillie glanced over at her sister in law. “How do you stand him?”, she asked “He was unruly as a boy and never stopped.”
“That’s one of the many things I love about him.,” Victoria replied. “What Doc was going to say is that you are going to be an aunt again.”
Suddenly Lillie forgot all about her pet peeves with the Texans in her family. “Oh! That is wonderful,” she cried “Congratulations! And if it is girl, you can send her to me. I will see she is properly educated as a young lady should be and...”
“Lillie Belle,” Doc interjected “It did not work with Sam and I won’t be sending any of my children away. One day Oklahoma will be a state and then may be you will think Portersville will be more civilized and come to visit.”
The sound of a wagon being brought around to the front of the house caught everyone’s attention. There was a shining team of bays, hitched to a buckboard that had been decorated with flowers and about a hundred old shoes and tin cans tied to the back of it. One of the ranch hands had tacked a big sign on the tale gate that read “Just Married” in crude painted letters. Doc leaned over and kissed his wife. “Better go get the old man,” he told her “ The bride and groom are getting ready to leave.”
“No wedding carriage?”, Lillie complained “This is uncivilized!”
“All right Jerrod,” Brian called out “It’s time for you and Sam to “get on out of here.” The revelers escorted Sam and me to the buckboard and saw us seated on the driver’s seat, then the men of the Flying S , some of their wives and sweet hearts along with, Little Fox, Lillie Greyhorse and several other friends from Bear Claw mounted up all around us. Scrub Pot appeared on the front porch smiling at us as we waited in the buckboard . As I reached for the reins of the team, the old man raised his hand for a blessing, “Go with God first, family second and a good fast horse under you,” he said “Bless you, my children.”
I gathered the reins and took up the buggy whip. “San Francisco, here we come,” I said as I kissed my bride. From behind us rose a series of raucous Indian war cries and a lot of hooting and hollering from the ranch crew, then the procession was off ! The thunder of hooves and clouds of dust filled the air as we left. Lillie Stevens-Black all but fainted into the arms of her nephew again. How terribly uncivilized she thought. That night, we drove as far as the Grants Creek Hotel, and then on a stage the next day over to Three Forks and then on a train bound for California. Our life together was just beginning.

It was quite at the Flying S Ranch. It was getting late and the last of the guests had gone. The wedding was over and the bride and groom were off on their honeymoon. Tired, but happy with the out come of all her hard work, Victoria Stevens sat down on the front steps next to Scrub Pot. He had been very quiet since the wedding and had been upstairs with the stranger for hours.
“The children are gone.,” he said quietly “May God be with them as they travel.”
“Yes. , ” Victoria replied “It all went so well. I was so proud of them both. I will never forget how they both wept and Sam wiped Jerrod’s tears away.”
Scrub Pot smiled “We all wept, Victoria,” he admitted “Even me. She is happy and he will be good to her.”
Doc walked out the door and joined them there on the porch. He had not had much to say about the stranger who’d arrived during the wedding reception. Joe Dodge was dead as far as he knew. But since the events of the afternoon, Doc had been questioning the past and the part he played in it. The body he buried was so badly burned, and he had seen Joe’s ring on its blackened hand, on the very same finger Joe had always worn it on. But now, Scrub Pot seemed so sure the man was his lost son, Joe, returned from the dead. But Doc was not convinced.
“I am tired,” Victoria declared as she rose to her feet “It’s been a long day.” She kissed her husband on the cheek. “Good night,” she said to Scrub Pot as she walked to the door. The old man smiled up at her. “Good night to you, Golden Hair,” he said.
“I’ll be up in a little while, Honey,” Doc added as she disappeared through the double doors of the ranch house. Scrub Pot looked over at Doc, his expression tired and worn by the events of the day. “You are troubled, Elliot.,” he said.
“I guess I am,” Doc replied as he leaned against the white washed post that supported the roof of the long porch. “I buried a man whom I considered a brother all those years ago, and now this drifter shows up and I don’t know what to think.”
“Sit,”, Scrub Pot said as he motioned for Doc to join him on the step. Doc lowered himself to the steps next to his old friend and fished in his pocket for a half smoked cigar he’d stashed there before he walked Sam down the stairs to her husband. “You seem so sure that fellow up there is Joe,” he said as he struck a match on his boot heel and lit the burnt end of the cigar.
“You will understand once Victoria bears her child,” he said “A father knows his own children no matter how many years it has been since he’s seen them. My heart knows, Elliot. That is all I can tell you.”
Thoughtfully Doc drew on his cigar, letting the smoke flow out and into the air. “I was at Bear Claw the night Emil Caldero and his gang attacked it.” he said “ I rode in with a half a company of rangers, and the whole settlement was on fire. We were too late.”
“There were twenty riders, most of them Mescalero,” Scrub Pot said “I killed many of them that night when they tried to take Sarah. I had to get her to safety and then go back for the children. It was all ready too late for your wife, Elizabeth. She was dead when I found her.”
“We either shot or captured most of them, but Emil Caldero and his brother got away,” Doc said “I went back to look for Joe. I went to the cabin, and that is where I found him. I pulled his body out of the flames after it blew up. Zachariah, he was dead before I got to him. He’d been shot through the forehead. The body was badly burned, but the ring on it was Joe’s. “
Scrub Pot looked long and hard at his friend. “Tonight, Elliot,” he said “I will tell you of a great secret, One only known to my son and myself. If the man upstairs is my son, he will know it too. If he does not, then I will accept what you say about Joseph’s death. “
”Fair enough,” Doc replied.
“You have heard the stories of hidden treasure on this land,’ Scrub Pot said “You have seen people like Hinkley willing to kill for a rumor that such wealth exists but so well hidden no one has ever found it.”
“I have heard the stories for years,” Doc replied “It was what most of Caldero’s men and three of his brothers died for when I caught up with them. I figure that if such wealth in gold and silver is out there somewhere, why has no one found it?”
“What if I told you it all was true, Elliot,” Scrub Pot said, carefully watching his friend’s face as he spoke. “There is a treasure buried in a hillside not far from the back forty acres of this ranch.”
Doc drew thoughtfully on his cigar. “I’d say you were a crazy old coot to believe that.,” he said.
“No Elliot,” Scrub Pot replied “It is there. I have seen it with my own eyes. I am the man who found it all those years ago.”
Doc’s face registered an expression of shock and his mouth fell open in great surprise. “What?”, he questioned as though he had not heard him right.
“You heard me,” the old man replied “”And Joseph was with me. Actually it was my son who stumbled on it..”
“And you never told anyone?,” Doc said in amazement “and Joe knew about it too?”
Scrub Pot shook his head. “We kept our secret well,” he said “and even when I thought my son to be dead, I decided I’d still keep silent. Sam and Brian had no one but me , no legacy, nothing of their father or mother , so I decided to save the secret for them. On the day marking the twenty second anniversary of the massacre at Bear Claw, I will tell them.”
Still in shock, Doc stared back at him as he told the story of how he and his then nine year old son found the treasure and marked its hiding place under a huge formation of rocks that resembled a standing buffalo. “If this man, whom God has given into our care is Joseph,” Scrub Pot said “ He will know all of what I have told you.” He was your blood brother and husband to your sister, Doc. He would reveal the secret to you if he had to.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Doc answered thoughtfully. “Now I understand why Hinkley was so willing to hire someone to kill Sam and then try to go back on his word when it didn’t work out as he’d hoped. He must have known something.”
“He knew nothing.,” Scrub Pot replied “It was kind of funny to see all those holes all over the back forty and know he’d wasted his time. He was never even to close to where it is. “His greed was his undoing and he’ll be in prison for a very long time.”
“So you are telling me that Sam and Brian are the only living heirs to this treasure?”, Doc inquired.
“They are,” the old man replied “ It is buried right behind the back forty.
“Well, Zachariah,” Dog replied as he scrubbed out his cigar. “ As wild a tale as it is. I believe you. What about Sam and Brian?”
“All is legal,” the old man said “Sam and her husband own the ranch out right and all that is on it, including Buffalo Rock.
Doc was silent for a moment, taking in all that he’d just been told. “All these years. I had not idea it was true.”
“It is.,” Scrub Pot replied “And tomorrow I will take you to see where it is if you like.”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s butt,” he muttered as he got up from the step. “It is best we keep this between us.,” he added “This kind of thing could get out of hand.”
“You are right.,” Scrub Pot replied “I am going to enjoy a late desert with Esparanza. She promised me one of her special pies.”
Doc rose to his feet and started for the door “You sweet on that old widow?”
Scrub Pot merely grunted as he rose and walked passed him and into the house “Good night, Doc,” he said flatly. Doc headed for the stairs, and chuckled to himself. “Why you old coyote,” he muttered to himself.


++++++++++


The clouds were always inside his head. Sometimes they caused him great pain and others just the usual confusion that had become his life. Once and a while he caught a fleeting glimpse of a memory, but it always seemed to get away. He often touched the deep, ugly scar that marred the right side of his forehead and cheek. Why could he not remember how it got there? But he had a direction he followed, and each time he thought he had reached the destination, he was frustrated by no recognition and no answers. No one knew him. He did not know himself..and he had come to hate the veil that kept him apart from the world that once had been his. But he had heard it.. He had heard a voice. Maybe it had been one of the dreams, but that voice was the one that had given him direction. He tried to speak. It became a challenge as he worked his lips, and forced his eyes to open. “Father?” There he had gotten it out. Would there be an answer this time?
He felt it then, a warm but calloused hand closing over his. It was real. It had to be.
“Joseph.”, Scrub Pot said softly “Awaken, my brave son.”
The clouds rolled wildly, trying to hide the path where he stood alone. He reached out trying to touch the sound. “Come to me Joseph.” Suddenly he was a small boy and he’d fallen off his pony. “Come to me Joseph.” He saw the fringe on the sleeves of his father’s jacket as his arms closed around him. “Get back on, son.”
His eyes flew open.. For a moment the clouds were gone. He stared up into the face of his father. Scrub Pot was holding his hand. Joseph reached up slowly and touched his face. “Are you real”,? he whispered.
“I am,” the old man replied and then began speaking in the Blackfoot language. Joseph stared up at him following the sound of his voice carefully. “It is a prayer,” he said in a rasping whisper. The old man smiled in relief. “The Lord’s prayer in our language,” he said.
“Do you know who I am?”, he asked.
“Yes,” Scrub Pot replied “I do.”
His eyes closed and he uttered a sigh that might have been relief.
“You are my son, “ Scrub Pot said softly “Your name is Joseph Marley Dodge. “ A perplexed expression crossed his face. “Where did I come from?”
“You were born here in Grants Creek.” Scrub Pot said . “Do you remember anything at all, son?”
“Buffalo.,” Joseph said “But I do now know what it means.” The old man sat by the bed thinking of the Spanish treasure they had discovered. It’s hiding place marked by the rocks that looked like a buffalo. Could that fragment of memory help Joseph find his way back?
Rain was coming soon, Scrub Pot could smell in on the chilly breeze that swept through the open window. “You must rest now,” he said as he rose from the chair he’d spent so many hours in and closed the window.
“I saw a wedding,” Joseph said , “But I can’t be sure if it was real or not. My mind plays tricks on me. The bride was beautiful, she looked like... like....” His voice trailed off.
“Who did the bride look like, son?,” Scrub Pot asked, cautiously encouraged “Think. You will remember her name..” As he watched, the man’s eyes closed and tears began to stream from the corners. “It was Sarah.. My Sarah.”, he said.
“Yes, “ Scrub Pot said softly as he sat back down by the bed. “It was Sarah. Your wife.”
Joseph was still weak and unwell, taxing him would set back his recovery, so his father pulled the quilt over his bare shoulders and left the room. Joseph had seen Sam, his daughter, at her wedding and wearing her mothers wedding dress. Except for her dark auburn hair , she had looked very much as her mother had when she wore the same dress many years ago. The old man was encouraged, but there were still so many questions. How had he survived? What happened to him that caused him to lose his memory and who was it who had lain in his grave for the last twenty odd years?


+++++++++++


The excitement of the past few weeks was over and life returned to normal at The Flying S. There were a few more horses now, a second stallion and two more mares. Brian and Essie told Lille Stevens-Black that they would not be returning to Philadelphia with her. After several tantrums, a fake collapse and “near death experience”, Lillie saw that she was not going to change Brian’s mind. He and his new wife were staying in Texas to help Scrub Pot run the Flying S until Sam and I got back.
Doc smiled as he drove the buggy all the way back from Three Forks after leaving his sister and all of her thirteen satchels and trunks at the train station there. Lille had a train to catch and as far as she was concerned it could not be soon enough. The man said to be Scrub Pot’s son was recovering from dehydration and extreme exhaustion under the care of the old man and Esparanza, and Doc and Victoria were getting ready to go home to Portersville. Now Sam’s dog, Goldy had been around the ranch the whole time, sniffing out rabbits, chasing ducks and hanging around Victoria. For some reason, he didn’t seem to miss Sam much I was told. May be in the end of it all, when Doc and Victoria left and he went with them, the truth behind his betrayal would come clear.


“What if that man isn’t Joe Dodge?,” Victoria asked as she closed her saddle bag and tied it shut.
“I don’t know what to think., “ Doc replied as he sat on a bale of hay watching his wife finish saddling her mare. “I was up there in his room a little while ago.,” he said “That fellow looks like Joe, but he doesn’t know me, or anything else. He seems to understand who Scrub Pot is, but that is all. He seems better, and getting a little stronger. I don’t know Vic, I just don’t know what to think. “
”He is very sick.,” Victoria replied. “And if he is Joe Dodge, how will Sam take it when she comes home and finds out that her father is alive?”
“Don’t know how she will take it, Vic,” Doc replied “But if it ain’t Joe, well then something will have to be done to protect Sam. I won’t have her hurt over this.”
“Scrub Pot says he is starting to remember bits and pieces about his past,” Victoria replied. “He told me that he has asked about his wife.”
“There is only one way that I will ever believe that that drifter is Joe Dodge,” Doc said as he got up and crossed the barn to the stall where the black waited for him. “Come on , Smoke,” he said “Time to go.” He took hold of the reins and led the horse toward the open barn doors.
“What do you mean, Doc?”, his wife asked as she followed him.
Doc paused at the door and turned to face her. “Joe and I had a long history,” he said “I was with the Texas Rangers before the war, and so was he. Joe Dodge would remember certain things about me and about what we did in those years. So far he only stares at me and doesn’t make any kind of connection between us at all.”
“Maybe he will in time,” Victoria said encouragingly. “Now, let’s go in a say good bye. It is time to go home, my love.”
Doc smiled at her “Yes, Ma’am,” he drawled, “It surely is.” With horses left waiting at the front porch rail, The Stevens’ went into the ranch house. Scrub Pot was sitting in his favorite leather chair in the parlor, napping as a warm fire burned in the fire place. “Zachariah?”, Doc said. The old man snorted and woke quickly from his short nap. He turned around as Doc and Victoria entered the room. They were both dressed for their long ride home, long dusters and all. Scrub Pot grinned when he saw that Victoria was wearing a gun belt just like her husband’s, a Navy Colt in the holster.
“You are a woman of many talents,” Scrub Pot declared as he rose to his feet and went to her. He took her hands in his rough and calloused ones. “You are a blessing to this family, to me and my Granddaughter,” he said “I will miss you, as you have left your mark on this place.”
“Thank you,” she said with tears in her brown eyes as she hugged the old man “I love you Zachariah,” she said “and I will miss you too. Please write whenever you can.”
“I will,” he said as he drew away and took Doc’s hand. “Go with God, my friend,” he said “that town of yours is growing and it needs you. One day the territory will become a state and then who knows, with your gift for gab, you might end up as governor.”
“I rather doubt that,” Doc replied as he hugged his friend “But I intend to make us a good life. Will you come to Portersville when the baby comes?”
“We will try to be there,” he replied.
“We?”, Doc questioned a little worried.
“Yes,” the old man replied , “Esparanza and I married one another last night. So congratulate me and be on your way.”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s butt!,” Doc declared. Victoria hugged him once more. “I knew you two were up to something with all those visits you made to the kitchen and when she was leaving early a few times to “visit her son.”
Scrub Pot winked , “We are telling her family today,” he said “She was at Bear Claw with me when she was not here.”
“I’ll bet that cabin of yours is spotless now,” Doc declared in amazement.
Esparanza appeared at the door of the parlor, a feather duster in her hand. “Zachariah told me you were leaving today,” she said “I wanted to say good bye.”
“Congratulations, Mrs. Dodge,” Doc said as he gently kissed her on the cheek, “I hope you can get him straightened out.” She smiled and joined Scrub Pot near the fire place. “He is a good man,” she said as took his hand.
“That he is.,” Doc replied .
They said their good byes on the veranda. Even Goldy showed up to see them off. He was muddy and wet, obviously he’d been after the ducks in the pond again. Victoria petted him. “Good bye, Goldy,” she said “You be a good boy for Sam when she gets back, and you have to quit chasing her ducks.” The dog looked up at her with soft brown eyes and whined.
Doc and Victoria mounted up and waved to Scrub Pot and his wife as they rode away. They were headed home to Portersville and Doc smiled to himself, he had a surprise for his wife when they got there too. He now owned the Double J and he’d decided to name it The Two Hearts One Love Ranch. Victoria had no idea and Doc was happy about that. They were not even half way down the lane to the road that led into Grants Creek when they heard a series of sharp barks. Victoria drew Fancy to a halt and turned in her saddle to see Goldy tearing down the trail toward them, barking and carrying on. He dashed up to her and jumped up, putting his paws on her leg and wagging his tail. “What is going on, Goldy?” she asked , then looked over at her husband’s wry grin. “I think Goldy has made a choice,” he said. “Looks like he’s going home with us.”
“I hope Sam won’t be upset,” Victoria said as the collie licked her hand “But I really do like him and I was feeding him, even back at home.”
“Well, let’s get going,” Doc said “Sam has Diamond if she wants a dog. I kind of like this one myself. ” Doc and Victoria rode off with their collie bouncing along beside them. Their adventure had drawn to a close and a new one was about to begin.


++++++++++++++++

THE FLYING S RANCH

ONE MONTH LATER


Joe Dodge was a tall man with a powerful build. He wore his dark hair long and straight as his Blackfoot ancestors had. His skin was dark and the handsome features of his face showed that he was part Indian but those haunted grey blue eyes could break one’s heart. He was in his mid fourties and a little bit of grey was showing in his hair as he stood at the open door of the horse barn. He had regained some of his memory, with the help of his father, but there were still so many parts of his life that he did not understand or remember. It was a gunshot wound to the head that had robbed him of his memories. How he survived was an untold story. He had grieved at the knowledge of his wife Sarah’s death and was happy to know the young man who worked with him every day to help him get his life back was his son, Brian. He also knew he had a daughter, though he could not remember her. Everyone had faith that one day he would. The ranch hands loved him, he was a hard worker and had a stoic kind of way about him, but a sense of humor too and he knew horses. They called him Dakota Joe, as that was the only name he knew and had gone by it for years. He was the best wrangler most of them had ever seen or worked with. Brian and Scrub Pot watched in amazement as he walked up to Trouble, speaking Blackfoot to him, then vaulted onto his back and rode him around the field with no tack of any kind. When he got back , he put the big horse back in the barn and turned to Scrub Pot, his expression filled with questions. “Where is Black Joe?”, he asked. “I left him near the cabin?”
Sadly the old man looked up at his son. “Joe,” he said, knowing the truth would break his heart “Black Joe died a long time ago.”
“He died?”
“He was old, my son,” Scrub Pot replied “But he made many colts. You just rode one of them. That is Trouble, one of his last colts. He belongs to Sam.”
“But I saw my horse in the paddock. I was looking out the window of my room,” Joe said quietly “I know it was real, and not just an image.”
“You saw Smokey Joe,” Scrub Pot said comfortingly “He is Doc’s stud. Your Black Joe was his sire.”
“He was a fine horse,” Joe said sadly “I have missed so much.”
“Yes,” the old man replied “but you are alive and getting better all the time. You must have faith, Joseph. Today your daughter and her husband are coming back from California. Are you ready to meet them?”
“I-I don’t know,” Joe replied “You tell me she my daughter, but I don’t remember her.”
“But you remembered her mother,” Scrub Pot said , trying to encourage Joe to work his damaged memory and find his daughter. “Maybe when you see her it will help you to recall.”
“I will try,” Joe promised “Now I better get back to work or Ely is going to be cleaning those stalls on his own.”

Joe Dodge stood by the open barn door, his pitchfork resting in his hands. He had paused there when he heard the sound the buckboard pulling up to the front of the ranch house. Floyd Jax was driving and the young couple about to climb down seemed to be so happy and glad to be home. As Joe watched, a tall cowboy, stepped down and then lifted the young woman and set her on her feet, kissed her soundly. She was such a pretty girl, and she seemed so happy, just like a bride should be returning from her honeymoon.
For a moment the man standing at the barn door caught her eye and she looked his way for a moment, then some one called out to her , “Sam! Jerrod! Welcome home!” Essie Stevens met the newly weds on the steps of the ranch house. There was something about that dark haired girl that pulled at Joe’s misty mental images. When he looked into her dark eyes for only a second, he remembered his wife, Sarah. Ely Jax walked up behind him, a wooden water bucket in his hand. “Looks like the boss lady is back,” he said “Come on Joe. I’ll introduce you.”
“He said that she is my daughter,” Joe said quietly as he watched many people crowding around Sam and Jerrod.
“How’s that?”, Ely asked as he walked to the door and out into the yard.
“Nothing,” Joe replied as he set the pitchfork down and followed Ely. “I have not met her yet. She was gone off with her bridegroom when I hired on.”

By now we were completely surrounded by everyone who worked on the ranch or in the house. We were happily surprised by Scrub Pot and Esparanza’s news but sad to see the Doc and Victoria were gone. Sam had not noticed yet that her dog was gone too, but that would be later on, right now we were just glad to be home. I’d never been hugged and kissed so much or made to feel more like I belonged to this family in all of my life. It was good. Everyone was talking all at once and milling around, unloading the buckboard. I looked up and saw Joe Dodge at the edge of the crowd of well wishers. He looked a whole lot better than he did the last time I‘d seen him when he collapsed off the back of his horse. I’d helped carry him into the house on the day Sam and I got married. I stepped forward offering my hand. “I am Jerrod Bently,” I said “It is good to see you up and around. Sam joined me and smiled up at the man. “I hope you are well again,” she said “You gave us quite a scare.”
Joe smiled at her, “Yes,” he said quietly “And thank you for taking me in. Your grandfather has been a blessing.” Sam reached out and took his hand. “We never did get introduced that day,” she said “I am Samantha Bently.”
“Dakota Joe,” he replied. He could feel himself falling backward into the past as he held his daughter’s hand. He was not ready for this. I knew that Sam wasn’t either. I knew the truth about him and could not say a word to her about it. Not yet. I knew the minute I saw them together that there was no mistaking it. This man was Joe Dodge, my father- in- law.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Mrs. Bently,” Joe said “But I have work I must do. Welcome home.” At that he turned and walked away.
Sam looked after him and smiled. “I am glad Brian and Grandfather hired him.” she said “He seems nice, and in a small way, he reminds me of Grandfather.”
“What makes you think that, Sam?” I asked and wondered if she was sensing the truth about the man she now knew as Dakota Joe.
“I don’t know,” she said an she grabbed stack of wrapped boxes from the back of the buckboard.
“Come in side! Everyone!,” Esparanza called out from the open front doors. “Dinner is ready!” It seemed like everyone was waiting for us to do something. My wife stood there looking expectantly at me and then it hit me. I scooped Sam up in my arms , carried her up the steps, across the porch and over the thresh hold to the cheers and shouts of welcome from our friends and family. The Bentlys were home at The Flying S.

THE END

Impressum

Texte: copyright(c) J.W. Osborn-Sept.26 ,2008
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 04.01.2013

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