A Dream Unfolding (31 page)

Murmurs of agreement echoed Hawk’s sentiment.

Sitting down next to Ben, Will shared his plans.
 
They discussed the best way to start clearing the land and where each of the buildings would be constructed.
 
They would keep the herd close to allow them better control with a smaller number of men, leaving two or three in charge of the herd.
 
The rest of the men would help fell, strip, and sand the logs for the buildings.

As the sky grew dark, a feeling of contentment settled over Will.
 
He had his ranch at last.

Chapter
16

The next day, early in the morning, a cloud of dust puffed from the trail leading into the valley.
 
Will watched as a line of miner topped mules came into view led by George
Lount
.
 
Will set aside the tool he used to strip the bark from the log at his feet.
 
Holding out his hand, he greeted George.

“Thought you could use some help,” George said before introducing his fellow miners:
 
Captain Joe Walker and his son, Joe Junior, Daniel Conner, Bob Groom, and Van Smith.

“Ever been to a log-rolling before?” George asked Will.

“No, this is my first.”

“Looks like you’ve got the general gist of it.
 
Mind if I help get the miners organized?”

“Be my guest.”

And with Will’s willingness to accept assistance, George quickly organized the men in teams to fell trees, strip logs, dry and sand logs, and construct the bunkhouse.
 
Including Will’s cowboys, there were roughly thirty men.

The belabored sawing sound echoed off the valley walls, stopping only when a warning of “timber” announced the successful felling of another tree.
 
The smell of fresh cut pine hung in the air.
 
Men chatted over the noise, adding an organic hum to the mix.

As Will resumed stripping the log he started before his visitors arrived, he tried not to let his jaw slack open in astonishment.
 
Men he never met before today worked to help a neighbor.
 
The community in Texas had been the same way; yet, Will never expected such generosity in the wilderness where working for yourself meant survival.
 
Perhaps he underestimated his new neighbors.

With long strokes along the length of the log, Will cut off a section of bark.
 
Pushing from the strength of his broad shoulders, he repeated the movement over and over until the log was bark-free.
 
Then he ran the
adze
down the two sides making them flat.
 
One of the flat hewn sides would face inside the bunkhouse, the other outside, making for a strong structure.
 
Joe Junior worked next to him using similar motions on the log before him.
 
When both logs were ready, Joe and Will each took an end of the log and laid it in the sun to dry.

Rolling another log into place, Will started the process anew while listening to Joe Junior’s baritone voice telling stories of the men from the Walker party.

“Dad, Daniel, and I spent many years in the mountains of Colorado and California and any range in between exploring and trapping,” Joe said, continuing to strip the log in front of him.

“After spending a few years in California, the Army hired us as guides.
 
We led them all over the Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona territories—mostly along the Old Spanish Trail.
 
When dad got weary of working for the Army, he and Daniel cooked up the scheme to lead an expedition in search of gold.
 
Most of the men you see here came from California, though a few joined up in Nevada.”

“How did you end up here at Granite Creek?” Will asked.

“Dad heard that gold and other precious metals were widely available in the area.
 
Met up with Jack Swilling when we were guiding the Army around.
 
Jack mentioned he found some gold and silver at the headwaters of the
Hassayampa
.
 
After trying our hand at looking for gold, and failing, dad finally followed Swilling here.

“Most of us pick up a fair amount of gold from sluicing, panning, or dredging.
 
A few of the miners set up rockers to sift the dirt from the bank.
 
Seems like too much work to me.
 
I prefer panning, myself.
 
Anyway, we pull a decent return.”

“How long you been here?”

“Since May, though we first left from California over two years ago.
 
Dad thought it would be smart to see how the mining was being done in Colorado—see if we could learn a few useful techniques.
 
It was time well spent.
 
Just wish we’d have landed here sooner.”

“Why’s that?” Will asked.

“It’s just nice to stay put for a bit.”

Taking a quick break to down some water, Will nodded in agreement.
 
It would be nice to settle down.

Some commotion nearby caught Will’s attention.

“Come on, Hawk, I bet I can get this log done before you!” Jed teased—a welcome change.

“I’m already half done.
 
You just started,” Hawk volleyed back, putting his energy into the challenge.

“I bet I’ll
beat
you both,” Covington said, as he picked up a bucket of water and flung it at Jed.

A sopping wet Jed, frowned menacingly for just a minute before grabbing a nearby bucket himself.
 
He doused Covington, saving enough to dampen Hawk.
 
Hawk searched for a means of retaliation.
 
Seeing none, he turned his attention back to his log.

“While you two are refilling those buckets, I’m going to win!” Hawk laughed.

The three continued their playfulness throughout the afternoon, confirming what Will suspected.
 
They were becoming good friends, despite their rocky start.

Before his neighbors left a few days later, they had the bunkhouse completed.
 
The next few weeks half of his men rode with the cattle while the other half worked on the outhouse and well.
 
The last structure to be built, the barn, should be complete by the end of the week.

The labor was difficult, but the weather was perfect.
 
The bright sun during the day took the edge off the cool temperatures.
 
At night, the fire in the bunkhouse kept them warm.
 
While some days white puffy clouds floated across the blue azure sky, Will had yet to see any rain or snow in the weeks since arriving in the territory.

Will stretched out the sore muscles of his back.
 
Long months in the saddle on the trail had not prepared him for the strenuous labor of chopping wood, stripping logs, sanding, and sawing.
 
After two weeks of this, he thought his body would adjust, but he was sore nonetheless.
 
Purchasing the ticking in Santa Fe had been a good decision, one his muscles thanked him for nightly as he fell to sleep on his bunk.

Looking up from the log he was sanding, Will scanned the horizon and mountain slope.
 
For days he had the strange sensation that they were not alone.
 
At night, firelight dotted the hillside.
 
Then, at random moments during the day, he felt like they were being watched.
 
Seeing nothing unusual, he returned his focus to the log.

Will could not believe he had his own ranch.
 
Would his father be proud, as Ben suggested?

A wave of homesickness washed over him.
 
He missed his father and his counsel, though he seemed to be managing well on his own thus far.
 
Still, he wished he could talk over his plans with his father.
 
What would he think about Will’s ideas and dreams for
Colter
Ranch?
 
Would his father see something Will missed?
 
Would he have suggestions on the best way to make those dreams a reality?

Will sighed, brushing the sweat from his forehead.
 
None of that mattered.
 
He was on his own.
 
He had to trust his own decisions now.
 
No more second guessing.
 
No more seeking his father’s counsel.
 
Colter
Ranch would be the product of his choices, whether wise or foolish.

This land opened up so many new opportunities, spurring on Will’s excitement.
 
Besides being able to support a herd much larger than his current one, this land would be perfect for the horse breeding business he dreamed of starting.
 
With a lack of readily available horseflesh and a growing population, he would be able to easily sell horses to new settlers, and perhaps even the army.
 
Of course, breeding horses meant he would have plenty of quality animals for his own use.

Perhaps he would even be able to sell beef to the army or settlers.

Will’s stomach growled, bringing him back to reality.
 
Must be time for supper.
 
No sooner than the thought entered his mind did Snake ring the bell.
 
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Will washed up outside the bunkhouse.
 
A few days ago, someone threw together a crude table with benches on either side.
 
It was barely big enough for the dozen broad-shouldered men crammed around it, but it was better than sitting on the floor.
 
Perhaps he could make two chairs for each end to give them a little more space.
 
Of course with several of them back caring for the cattle, it might not be an issue.

After the men gathered around the table, Will said grace.
 
Even though some of the men didn’t like the custom, they knew better than to grumble.
 
He, on the other hand, would never tire of thanking God for all that He provided.

As soon as grace was done, the teasing began.

“You better pick up the pace out there Owens, otherwise Covington’s
gonna
beat you today,” Jed said.
 
The men made a competition out of who could prepare the most logs each day.

“My old bones don’t move as fast as you kids,” Owens shot back.

“Old! Ha!
 
I’d hardly use your nineteen years as an excuse.
 
You’re just slow,” Snake retorted, the oldest of the group besides Ben and Will.

“I suppose now that you have a warm cozy bunk to sleep in that you think you can just slack off,” the normally shy Covington piped up, jabbing Owens in the ribs.

“Hey, no fair injuring the competition,” Owens feigned injury grabbing his ribs.

Will enjoyed the friendly banter of the men.
 
They had certainly worked out a lot of their differences.
 
Hawk and Jed were now like brothers.
 
Months ago, he would have put his money on Jed killing the young half-Indian, but now they had a strong friendship.
 
Whenever one was riding flank, the other took the drag position at the back of the herd, so they could converse when the herd settled.