A Dream Unfolding (25 page)

Arriving at the front of the herd, Will turned to face the herd and men, waiting for the rest of the men to take their places.
 
Seeing everyone was ready, he nodded for Pedro to ride ahead, scouting for any sign of trouble.

The drive from Fort Wingate, New Mexico, to the Arizona Territory had been quite scenic, Will mused as he settled into his saddle.
 
The valley floor was covered in light yellow-green grass and dark green scrub brush.
 
To the north, red, orange, and rust banded mountains rose from the valley floor for thousands of feet into the air.
 
Eroded by wind and rain, deep grooves and crevices hid their untold secrets in the shadows, untouched by the sun.
 
The further they traveled, new mountains rose from the south, banded in white, grey, and rust, with the green of scrub brush dotting the top and sides.

Flat was the landscape they presently drove through, with still more of the tall grass and scrub brush.
 
They had not encountered much water or firewood in the past few days on the open plain.
 
The concern whispered softly in his ear.
 
They would need water soon.

The thundering of the longhorn’s hooves provided a steady beat to accompany the sweet melody flowing from his lips.
 
Will liked riding point best.
 
There was less dust kicked up and it made singing much easier.
 
The song, one of his mother’s favorite hymns, floated in the cool night air.
 
His baritone voice sounded somewhat foreign to his ears, as the words came from his soul.

“Nearer, my God, to Thee.
 
Nearer to Thee.
 
Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down, darkness be over me, my rest a stone. Yet in my dreams I’d be nearer, my God to Thee.”

As the sun fell lower in the sky, leaving a dark blue haze settling over the plain, Will felt like the wanderer.
 
Cast far from his Texas home, he roamed the desert wilderness in search of his new home.
 
This pervasive sense of not belonging would fade, he hoped, once he discovered his new home in the Arizona Territory in just a few more weeks.

He wondered many times over the past months of this journey why God uprooted him from the Star C and sent him across the wilderness.
 
If nothing else, he would finally have a ranch of his own.
 
Yet, he felt something bigger, something more awaited him.

Ending the song with one last chorus, Will made it his heart-felt prayer.
 
Let me be nearer to Thee.

The following morning, as the sun woke from its sleep, Pedro rode back towards Will.
 
Though he was not in a hurry, he appeared a bit earlier than Will was expecting.
 
Nudging Jackson forward, he met Pedro half way.

“Found water, boss,” Pedro announced.
 
“Just another mile or so up.
 
Flowing water, too.”

Will nodded, relieved to know water was nearby.

“Good spot to camp,” Pedro added.

A smile stretched across Will’s lips.
 
“Go tell the others.”

Within twenty minutes, the cattle were happily settled next to the Little Colorado River drinking their fill.
 
As the chuck wagon pulled to a stop, the men dismounted their horses.
 
Those who were on first shift transferred saddles to fresh mounts, while the rest set up camp.

Will walked towards the river.
 
Taking off his worn leather gloves, he touched the water with the tips of his fingers.
 
Chilly water gave him a second’s pause for the idea forming in his head.
 
The sun already warmed the coolness from the air.
 
Perhaps a quick bath would be worth it.

Headed back towards his saddle and bedroll, he searched for his other change of clothes.
 
Wadding them into a ball, he made his way to the chuck wagon.

“Think we’ll camp here tonight.
 
Looks like a good place for a short break,” he said to Snake.

Snake nodded in reply.

Within a few short steps, Will stood at the water’s edge again.
 
Tossing his hat aside, he quickly stripped down.
 
The playful rogue in him ran head long into the water, not letting the chill change his mind.
 
As the cold of the water registered, he sucked in a quick breath.
 
Dunking his head under, he scrubbed his hair, working out the months of dust and grime.

As he came up for air, a splash of water assaulted him in the face.
 
Wiping the water from his eyes, he saw a grinning Hawk darting away.
 
Laughter surrounded him.
 
As he looked around he saw Jed, Hawk, and Covington making a ruckus in the river.
 
Seems they had the same idea.

The iciness of the water seeped into his bones, warning Will it was time to leave.
 
Wading back to the edge he caught the tail end of a conversation between the three young men.

“Where’d you get those scars,” Covington asked.
 
The earlier joviality died with the abrupt question.

“From the Apaches,” Hawk’s quiet voice replied.

“There’s too many scars on your back to have all come from them,” Jed said, with an edge to his voice.

As Will began to dress again, thankful for the warming sun, Hawk’s face hardened.
 
“They were very cruel to me.
 
Didn’t like half-breed
Kichai
any more than the white men.”

Jed muttered something Will could not hear.

“They tortured me!” Hawk shouted back.
 
“They hated me.
 
They whipped me for entertainment.”
 
Standing square shouldered blocking Jed from Will’s view, he added, “Don’t you get it?
 
I’m not one of them.
 
I hate them as much as you do.”

As Hawk turned towards the river bank, Will took note of the shame covering Jed’s face.
 
Both Jed and Covington stood there in silence for several minutes before either headed back to the bank.
 
As soon as Hawk was dressed, he hastened away from the other two young men, walking along the river.

“Way to go, Jed,” Covington smarted off as he pulled on his last boot.

“I didn’t know,” came the sheepish answer.

“So what’re you
gonna
do about it?”

Slapping his hat down on his head, Jed replied, nonchalantly, “
Dunno
.”

“You’re something else,” Covington said, throwing his hands up in the air.
 
“Did it ever occur to you that the two of you have more in common than anyone else in camp?
 
If it were me, I’d try
apologizin
’ then make him my friend.”

Will silently agreed with Covington’s sage words, still going unnoticed by the two men.
 
As much as Jed and Hawk fought, they were the most alike.
 
If only Jed would lose that chip on his shoulder, the two might become friends.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Jed kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot.
 
When Covington walked away, Jed stood there for several more minutes, deep in thought.
 
Then he turned in the direction Hawk took, leisurely strolling along the river.
 
Maybe Jed would take Covington’s advice after all.

Picking up his filthy clothes, Will headed back to camp.
 
He tossed them in a pile for Snake to wash.

Grabbing one of the empty water barrels, he rolled it down towards the river.
 
Once full, he rolled it back up the gentle slope and heaved it into the back of the wagon, before finding the next empty one.

On his way back to the wagon, a cloud of dust to the east caught his attention.
 
Leaving the barrel, Will grabbed his rifle and checked the ammunition in his revolver.

“Boys, ready your weapons!” he shouted.
 
“Covington, ride out to Ben.
 
Tell him we’ve got company.
 
Hawk!”

When Hawk came running, Will continued, “Saddle up a horse.
 
See if you can’t figure out who our visitors are.”

Hawk nodded.
 
Sliding his rifle into the sheath on his saddle, he rode off in the direction of the dust cloud.

“
Watcha
thinking, boss?” Whitten asked.

“They’re moving fast, whoever they are.”

“Indians?”

“Don’t think so.
 
Seems they would be a bit more covert,” Will replied.
 
He had no doubt the visitors saw the bright white canopies of his supply wagons.
 
Not to mention the large herd of cattle.
 
They would be hard to miss in this flat open land.

He surveyed the camp and nearby river for a good place to take cover, just in case the riders were hostile.
 
Not many options.
 
The bank was too shallow of a slope to provide any cover.
 
While a few short trees littered part of the bank further upstream, they were too small for a major offensive.
 
The only other option would be hiding behind the wagons.

“Whitten, you and Owens go hide in those trees.
 
Snake, Jed, stay close to the wagons.
 
If something starts, take cover there,” Will commanded.

As he propped up his leg on the crude bench by their small table, he waited for Hawk to return.
 
Covington and Ben rode in.

“Don’t know if they’re friendly or not,” Will informed Ben.

Just after Ben dismounted, Hawk returned.
 
“Military.”

“Blue coats?” Ben asked.

“Yup.
 
Riding at a fair pace.
 
Not too hard, though,” Hawk answered, sliding down from his mount.

“Well,” Ben replied, “Let’s hope they’re friendly to a bunch of Texans.”

Will hoped so, too, for there would be no way to conceal their origins once he spoke with his distinct drawl.

For nearly a half hour, Will waited for the military group, realizing then the distance had been deceptive.
 
At last, the group sent one rider ahead.

“Howdy,” Will greeted the rider, keeping his guns close, but maintaining a peaceful posture.

The young man, still atop his horse, returned his greeting.
 
“The captain wants to know if we might be able to join your camp for the evening.”

“Be fine,” Will said.

The scout thanked Will, before riding to report back to his captain.

A few minutes later, camp buzzed with activity.
 
The captain and his ten or so men joined the camp.
 
Snake started preparing supper.
 
Jed, Hawk, and Covington hung around the younger military men, excitedly plying them with dozens of questions.
 
Ben and Will sat at the table, offering the captain a brief respite.

The short captain took the offered seat, setting his forage cap aside, running fingers through his dark wavy hair.
 
“Didn’t expect to run into you,” Captain Jarrett said, “for a few days yet.
 
The commander at Wingate said you’d been through awhile back.
 
Less there’s another Texas rancher driving west of here.”

Will hesitated, not sure how to take the comment.
 
“Moving cattle can be slow at times.”

“What brings you out here,” Ben asked.

“We’re scouting for possible locations for a fort.
 
Looking for something around where the Walker Party settled near Granite Creek.”

“A fort, eh?” Ben said, rubbing the salt and pepper beard gracing his chin.

“The governor should be arriving in a few months,” Jarrett replied, “along with a number of settlers.
 
General Carleton adamantly insisted we be ready to protect the territory’s newest citizens.”