A Dream Unfolding (18 page)

“It was so horrible—what they did to my family.
 
They rode into the ranch,” Jed explained, his eyes in a far off place as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
 
“First they took my sister and did unspeakable things to her before they snapped her neck.
 
She was just ten years old.
 
What kind of monster does that?
 
Then they went into the house.
 
I could hear my mother’s screams, but I was frozen in place, out of sight in the barn.
 
Then the screaming stopped and they set fire to the house.
 
When my pa came riding in, they threw a tomahawk at him, hitting him square between the eyes and knocking him off his horse.
 
Then they took his scalp.
 
I thought for sure they would come for me next or they would burn the barn and I would die in the fire.
 
But then, they just left.
 
The house burnt the ground before I thought it was safe enough to come out.
 
My whole family was dead.
 
And I saw it all.”

Jed’s anger faded, replaced by a few drops of moisture rolling down his face.
 
His shoulders slumped forward as if weary of carrying the awful weight.
 
When he looked up at Will, his eyes silently pleaded for something.
 
Maybe forgiveness?

His words soft, Will said, “Jed, it is not your fault.”

The young man stared off into the distance, not believing it.

“It is not your fault.
 
There was nothing you could have done that would have saved any of them and not gotten you killed, too.”

Clearing his throat, Jed said, “Wish I could believe that.”
 

His voice was devoid of bitterness.
 
Instead, it was filled with hope.

“Give it time.”
 
Putting his hand on the young man’s shoulder Will gave a gentle squeeze, then continued, “God doesn’t blame you and if you ask him, he will forgive you for this guilt you are carrying around.
 
You don’t have to carry it any longer.”

Jed snorted.
 
“God let them take my family away.
 
I want nothing to do with him!”

His shout echoed in Will’s ears as he ran from camp.

Chapter
9

The rain continued throughout the entire day and well into the night.
 
The sweet smell of rain mixed with the pungent odor of wet cattle and horseflesh.
 
The longhorns kicked up mud as they plodded forward on their journey westward.
 
Will shivered from the cold, soaked to the bone despite his slicker.
 
The other cowboys appeared as miserable as he.

Finally, a few hours before dawn, the rain stopped.
 
Off in the distance lights dotted the foothills of the mountain.
 
Santa Fe was in sight, at last.
 
As they set up camp for the day, Will thanked God for reaching this milestone of the journey.
 
Not only did Santa Fe represent the opportunity to rest and resupply, it allowed Will a chance to hire more men.

Life on the drive challenged the hardiest of men.
 
The drive stimulated changes in attitudes and opinions—if it failed to claim your life first, Will thought.

He remembered his third cattle drive.
 
The first two progressed uneventfully, but the third introduced Will to the dangers of the drive in an unforgettable manner.
 
He was barely twenty years old.
 
He and the cowboys of the Star C herded the longhorns to the New Orleans market.
 
On that drive—the worst the Star C Ranch experienced—they ran into a warring band of Indians just days into the drive.
 
They lost three men in the fight, and two more due to infection before the week was out.
 

For days they drove through a downpour of rain, much worse than what he and his men just experienced.
 
When it came time to ford the swollen river with the cattle, all the cowboys were exhausted.
 
No one had more than a few hours of sleep each day.
 
Riding point, Will entered the river first.
 
Weary, he summoned every ounce of strength to hang onto his horse.
 
Then a swell of water rushed down the river, catching him unsuspecting.
 
He fell into the churning water, unable to stop his rapid progress downstream.
 
Knocked into steer after steer, he struggled to fight the current.
 
As his energy evaporated, Ben lassoed him, pulling him to safety.
 
The river that almost claimed his life, claimed two horses and several head of cattle instead.

By the time they reached the market, only four men and three thousand head of cattle remained, numbers significantly reduced from when they started the drive.
 
Will remembered sleeping for days before attempting the trip home.

Will came face to face with his own mortality through that experience.
 
Prior to that drive, he acted arrogant and cocky.
 
And he filled his weekends with the pursuit of self-gratification, not something he relished today.

Instead of taking his life, that cattle drive changed his life.
 
After the near death drowning, Will’s father took him aside.
 
His father embraced him and prayed over him, thanking God for sparing his life.
 
After that, Will figured he should start living a moral life.
 
Shortly afterward, he began his personal relationship with Jesus, and he had his father to thank.
 
After that drive, his father delegated the responsibility of managing the drive to Will.
 
A few years later, his father admitted watching Will become a man on that drive.

Rubbing his jaw in thought, he stopped when his hand moved over the sore lump still healing from his encounter with Jed.
 
As Will thought about his men on this drive, they faced similar struggles.
 
He understood growing up on the trail.
 
Since their conversation, Jed acted differently.
 
He still held on to some of the anger and resentment, but he wasn’t lashing out against Hawk anymore.

Covington’s insecurity still plagued him.
 
He needed a lot of encouragement in his ability in handling the horses well.
 
The more experienced men like Whitten, Miguel, Pedro, and Owens seemed to take things in stride.
 
And there was Ben—a godsend.
 
Having someone with his experience on the drive really settled the younger men.

Hawk seemed to be opening up a bit.
 
He and Covington talked during down times.
 
Jed still seemed uneasy around Hawk, as did Owens and Whitten.
 
Perhaps in time they would all come to see him as a peer.

With no rain clouds in sight, Snake rigged a clothes line of sorts from the chuck wagon, so the men could hang their wet clothes out to dry.
 
Each man owned a few changes of clothes, mostly because of the permanent move at the end of this drive.
 
Will located dry clothes and changed.
 
It felt good not be sopping wet over every inch of his body.

Looking around at all the things drying in the sun, Snake teased, “How much stuff did you ladies bring with you?”

A couple of the cowboys answered back with some pithy comment.
 
At last, spirits lifted, bringing joviality back to the crew.

Concerns over Pace’s injuries weighed heavily on Will.
 
When he checked on Pace before sunset, he was unconscious and had been for the better part of the day according to Snake.
 
He lost all color, his skin taking on a translucent appearance.
 
Some of his wounds improved but the one on his left arm steadily grew worse and infected.
 
Pace weakened daily, unable to keep down any food.
 
Snake said he was feverish and needed better care soon.

Will motioned Ben to join him as he checked on Pace again this morning.

“We
gotta
do something, boss,” Ben said.
 
“He
ain’t
gonna
make to Santa Fe.”

“I know,” Will replied grimly.
 
Then, having an idea of how to give the wounded man a fighting chance, Will asked, “Do you think we could spare someone to ride him on into Santa Fe on the litter today?”

“It’ll be slow going, but would get him there by nightfall.
 
Otherwise, we’re looking at tomorrow morning at best.”

Owens volunteered for the assignment.
 
Will, Ben, Snake, and Owens each grabbed a corner of the blanket under Pace’s limp body.
 
Grunting from his bulky weight, the men lifted him from the wagon and settled him onto the litter.
 
Will handed Owens a stack of money for the doctor and lodging, sending them on their way.
 
He hoped the decision proved wise.

Will and Whitten dismounted their horses and tied them to the hitching post in front of the adobe structure with the placard reading “doctor’s office.”
 
Entering the building, the air felt a few degrees warmer than the chill outside.
 
Will blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light.
 
Owens stood greeting Will.

“Doc has been in with Pace all night,” he reported.

A beautiful Mexican woman appeared from one of the rooms down the hallway, followed by a tall man.
 
The man stopped in front of Owens.

“Mr. Owens,” he greeted.
 
“Mr. Pace is still unconscious, but appears to be doing well.”

Owens introduced Will and Whitten to the tall doctor.

The doctor continued, “I had to take his left arm.
 
Though I hated to do so, it likely saved his life.
 
Good thing you wasted no time getting him here, for I fear what the outcome would have been.”

Will spoke up, “Thank you, Doc, for taking care of Pace.
 
When will he be ready to ride out?”

The doctor shook his head.
 
“I am afraid he will not be well enough to ride for a month or more, assuming there are no further complications.”

Will expected as much.
 
Having decided the next course of action on the ride in, he held out two stacks of money.
 
“One of these should cover Pace’s expenses while he is in your care.
 
The other is his wages.
 
I hope I can trust you to see he gets this.”

The doctor replied, “This is more than enough for his care.
 
I thank you for your generosity.
 
And yes, I will see he receives this,” waving the other stack of money in his hand, “when he is well enough to leave.
 
It should be plenty to cover him until he can pick up some work.”

“Thank you again, Doc,” Will said touching his finger tips to the edge of his broad brimmed hat.
 
As sorry as he was to hear Pace lost his arm, he was thankful to see he was in good hands.