Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) (21 page)

A smile twisted Lorenz's face and the grey eyes lit with sparkles for he was young and adventure beckoned. “Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

Anna placed the newly filled straw mattress on Lorenz's bed while MacDonald and Lorenz worked on the door jamb. From somewhere she had retrieved a wooden box and set it beside the bed. Inside it were placed the extra socks and summer underwear purchased at Uncle's store. On the top of the unpainted box, she had set a candle nestled inside an opened, cleaned, cut-off, and wallpaper decorated tin can. She surveyed the room critically after making the bed. “Ve vill buy du a proper chest vhen the money is a little better. Perhaps we can find a mirror at Kap's place. They may have an old one stuffed away somewhere.”

Lorenz knew that Rity's bedroom had some kind of fancy chest and a dressing table with a chair. He wondered if Mama had one of those and then decided she probably didn't. Mama didn't look like she spent as much time as Rity in front of a mirror. Mama's hair was always pulled back in a bun, with wispy curls fighting to be free. He didn't think that would take nearly as long to fix as Rity's fancy curls.

MacDonald didn't seem to care one way or another about hair. After looking at the scenes of Thalia, Lorenz had finally been able to figure out which was male and female on Papa's planet, but you sure couldn't tell by their clothes and their builds. Most of the people had their hair short. He had more questions on their way home.

“How old did y'all say y'all were when y'all came here?”

“I twas about sixty-four.”

“How old are y'all now?”

“Oh, I am about ninety of yere years. I would need to use the calibrator back at the craft to answer ye as far as an accurate year and month.”

It all seemed so improbable. “I thought y'all were younger than Mama, and couldn't figure out why y'all married somebody older.”

MacDonald laughed. “What would I do with a young lassie? She would prattle on about meaningless things. My Anna kens what tis important and what tis nay.”

“But y'all picked somebody that is really tall, and most people can't help but notice, and they're afraid of tall women.” It wasn't an argument. He was just trying to figure out why somebody like Papa would do something to draw attention to himself.

“And just what would I do with a wee lassie? I'd rip her apart or spend my nights wishing for a Thalian woman. None of which has anything to do with my feelings for yere mither. The good Gar determines who ye fall in love with.”

Lorenz had spent some time dwelling on that answer. It seemed every time he asked a question it was answered, but the answer would mean more questions. He didn't even want to know why Papa would say Gar instead of Lord or God. He figured that answer would go on for a long time.

They had pounded pegs on the wall for his clean shirt and old trousers after carrying up the mattress. Now they were working on getting the hinges into the jambs. Lorenz couldn't figure out why all the fuss. A blanket hung over the door would work as well as anything. It wasn't like there was anyone else sleeping upstairs. It seemed these people were bent on working all day long. He didn't understand it.

His days with the Comancheros had seen intense bursts of activity to find meat, or break or set up camp, but pretty much the rest of the time had been spent doing nothing. His muscles were being used in ways he didn't even know they could be used.

MacDonald had set the hinge plate against the jamb and the door and now they were busy using a knife to cut out the extra wood. MacDonald had muttered something about a tool, but they'd use knives instead. It was hot up here, and water was streaking down the sides of both faces. Lorenz regretted not taking that shower at the
Golden One
when he had the chance. Besides the sweat, his hands were starting to cramp. At least he was trusted with a knife again. He stood for a moment and walked around, clenching and unclenching his hand while looking out the window. He noticed something moving way out in the distance. It looked like Rolfe, and then something switched in his brain and it wasn't Rolfe.

“Where's Daniel going to sleep when he gets here?” Lorenz shook his head. Damn, there he was talking nonsense again. “Why'd I say that? It's Rolfe coming in.”

MacDonald stood and wiped his hands against his trousers, a bemused look on his face. “So ye have yere mither's kenning ability too. Ye are a surprise, laddie. According to Anna, ye, Daniel, and Margaretha twill all be here at Christmas.”

He too, looked out through the window. “And yere eyes are very good. That tis friend Rolfe. Mayhap he has found the horse herd. It seems we twill finish the door another time.”

MacDonald picked up the door and tools and set them against the hall wall. “Ye twill have to wait for another night to sleep in yere bed. Twill be the ground for us again this evening.” He grinned. “Do ye think a new horse tis worth that?”

“I like sleeping outside, but I don't think y'all should tell Mama.”

They took the stairs at a quick pace.

MacDonald explained to Anna, gave her a kiss, and then grabbed two rifles out of the cabinet set against the south wall of the main room and heaved one to Lorenz. “Dinna get too excited,” he admonished as Lorenz caught the rifle with one hand and a huge smile lit his face. “Ye may need it.”

He stopped at the springhouse long enough to grab a handful of dried beef before they headed to the corral for their horses. Rolfe rode in as they finished saddling the horses. He raised his eyebrows at the rifle stuck in Lorenz's scabbard, aimed a stream of tobacco at the ground, smiled, and said, “Du two got damn good eyes. The herd is above the ridge line just northeast of dot spring out on your east range. I'll get Martin and meet du two there. It looked like there vas about twenty in the herd. Ve're thinning them out.”

“Aye, friend Rolfe, we'll meet ye and Martin there.”

He looked back over towards the trail to the south leading to Arles. “Did ye ken what those vultures are circling?”

Rolfe glanced to the south. “Nein, too far off and out of my vay. They just started their circling the last half-hour or so. Vhatever it is, they ain't moved in. Du vant to see if it's a cow or something else?”

“Aye, we'll check it ere we strike out for the spring.”

Rolfe nodded, clucked at his mount, and rode off.

“Y'all don't waste any time talking, do y'all?”

“Nay, why should we. We ken what the other tis about.” They too mounted and rode out, waving at Anna and Mina as they did.

They rode slowly in the afternoon heat, heading south towards the vultures. It was strange the way the birds kept circling, but never landing. Something must be keeping them in check, or whatever they were after wasn't dead yet. They topped the rise and looked down at a mule munching at the grass, its improvised rope reins tangled in the small juniper defiantly growing in the prairie grass. A body was lying next to the stunted tree where little mounds of the grass had been pulled out. The mule looked up as they approached, backed away a couple of steps, lowered its head, and continued eating. The figure on the ground looked as gaunt as the mule, and the uncovered head sprouted sparse, straw-colored hair. MacDonald grabbed his canteen, and they both dismounted.

“Use your bandana to devise a head covering,” he said to Lorenz, and then he bent and rolled the prone figure over, lifted his head and put the canteen to his lips. The face itself was flushed red, the lips cracked and drying. The youngster was maybe fourteen or a little older, and the eyebrows were as straw-colored as the hair.

“How bad is he?” asked Lorenz.

“He tis dehydrated, dried out,” said MacDonald, “and he looks like he needs three squares worse than ye did.”

The white eyelashes flipped upward and then closed while the boy's cracked lips sucked at the canteen. “If ye twill catch up that mule, I'll carry the lad on my saddle.”

“Are we taking him back to Mama?”

“Aye, she twill tend him.”

Anna's grey eyes widened at the sight of the slight, grime covered, sun burnt figure, and pointed to the daybed.

“'Twill ye need one of us to stay?”

“Nein, he vill be no trouble.”

This time when they rode out, they went to the east by northeast. The ground did not rise rapidly, but seemed to swell in rolls: rolls of prairie spread with still green grass and longhorns feeding in the swales and draws. There was an occasional oak where water must flow close to the surface. It was, thought Lorenz, damn good range. The land started to rise into the foothills, and then leveled off again. Lorenz noted that there were signs of cattle and other animals browsing through here.

Someone had used a wagon coming into this area and Lorenz began to see why. The trees were thicker here and someone had logged them out creating more grass for the animals. The trail rose again, and then leveled off. They rode into a small back canyon with a spring at the base of the boulders climbing into a small mountain range. Willows and cattails flanked the spring area and small bushes fought against the rock to claim their right to live. A high fence built of oak and stone ran across the area, but the gate was wide open.

“We camp here,” MacDonald announced. “We twill gather up some wood and wait for the Rolfes.”

“Y'all have used this camp a lot.”

“Oh, aye, that we have. This tis nay the first time we have rounded up horses and tis a great camp for hunting, branding, and cutting wood for the winter.”

“Why didn't y'all just build one of your houses here?”

“Tis nay enough room for the other buildings. Even Herman saw the logic in that, though he hates the thought of a settled place. More important, during a long, rainless summer, this spring may dry out, whereas the spring at our home does nay.”

They had closed the gate and were stripping the riding and camp gear from their horses. Lorenz couldn't figure it. Their houses were out there for all to see. Back in here, they could have stayed hidden. Then it came to him. They weren't hiding. They lived where they felt they would be most comfortable. “We didn't bring much in the way of eats,” he said.

“Aye, but there tis coffee in my saddlebag and friend Rolfe twill bring in the rest.”

MacDonald knew his friend well. The elder Rolfe threw down a huge haunch of beef when he and his oldest son arrived. Martin was grinning from ear to ear. “Good to see y'all. Now we get a chance to increase our stock.”

Lorenz could think of lots of other reasons. Tonight he wasn't going to be studying or trying to read at a higher and higher level. He grinned back. It was good to be out in the open again.

They spread out early in the morning, following Rolfe's directions. Before the corals of the morning sunrise had dissipated they spotted the herd of mustangs. MacDonald used his powerful Zark to cut off the stallion while the rest bunched the remnants of the herd, and then drove them towards the spring and corral, not worrying if they lost a mare or two.

MacDonald and Rolfe worked together to close the gate behind the horses they had trapped and grinned at each other like a couple of boys. They dismounted and signaled the younger two to do the same.

“Du got the first pick this time,” said Rolfe to MacDonald.

“I twill let the laddie make his choice.” He turned to Lorenz. “Have ye seen one ye like? If nay, look closely.”

Lorenz used his forearm to wipe the sweat off his brow and looked at the milling herd. Some were upset, some were snuffling at the water, and one mare was nuzzling her colt. The horses were in fairly good shape except for the rough, un-curried coat. These were range-hardened, agile horses, well-suited for chasing and avoiding the longhorns. None matched the picture he carried in his mind of the blooded horse he would have one day, but he picked as close as he could. “I'll take the brown mare.”

“She tis a good choice. Tis your turn, friend Rolfe.” Lorenz stood taller. He had Papa's approval.

Rolfe spat at the ground. “Hell, if du are spoiling your poy, might as vell do the same. Vhat won do du vant, Martin?”

Martin grinned and pointed out the roan with the white face and white stockings. “I'll take that one.”

MacDonald and Rolfe chose the two they wanted and then decided they'd try to keep another two. If they found the time to rough break them, they could make a better profit in Arles when they trailed the herd in come fall. Lorenz and Martin were stationed at the gate, and the extra five horses driven out of the enclosure and shooed off to prevent any diversion for the six they meant to trail down to their ranches.

They used their ropes and voices to keep the six horses under control and kept a brisk, even pace to the MacDonald ranch. MacDonald easily swept ahead and opened the corral when they pounded in. After they watered their own mounts they headed for the house and a quick meal.

The kid that MacDonald and Lorenz rescued met them at the door carrying an empty bucket. Anna had given him Lorenz's old too-short trousers and the misshapen hat. Lorenz had discarded for his new one. His face was still sun burnt, but he seemed recovered. His pale blue eyes, however, were just as dull as when they found him and his mouth dropped at the size of MacDonald.

“What tis yere name, lad?”

The eyelids blinked furiously and no sound came from his mouth for a moment. Chalky was slight of build, slight of hair, and slight of mind, and he could but gawk at the huge form in front of him. “Hit's Chalky,” he half-whispered.

“How did ye come to be out there by the wayside?”

Lorenz felt sorry for the kid. He knew the empty gut feeling Chalky must be experiencing while he was looking at the huge form asking questions when he didn't have an idea what would happen next or why they were being asked.

Mama came to Chalky's rescue. “He said he vas riding to Schmidt's Corner. His reason for doing so seemed confused, but that could be from the sun. Except for the carrying in vater, I've made him stay in most of the day.” She raised her eyebrows to MacDonald, and he nodded his head.

Mina, by this time, had pulled at MacDonald's leg and was back up in his arms, hugging him. Anna reached for the child and continued talking. “There are plenty of beans and biscuits. Everything is ready.”

After washing up, Lorenz got behind Chalky and guided him into the dining room. He figured that Chalky's former living conditions didn't include dining rooms, heaping tables, and people who spoke more than one language. He was feeling downright sorry for him.