Oklahoma's Gold (4 page)

"Ah … in the late 1800’s the government opened the land to settlers. It says the first so-called homesteaders’ run was at noon on April 22, 1889. About 50,000 people moved to Oklahoma that day. Wow! What started out as a totally Indian-inhabited territory today consists of only eight percent Native Americans. That’s sad, isn’t it?" Missy commented.

"Yes. It’s tragic how cruel mankind can be to one another, Missy," Jess said, and then added, "I guess prejudice and greed causes some people to commit some pretty unforgiving acts, but I can’t say that I understand it."

"Me neither," Missy replied as she turned to Deek. "How about you, Deek? What do you think?"

"
Humph
," he grumbled, crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

So much for that effort
, Jess thought, then turned her attention back to the road. She had seen a sign for Chickasha. They were so close. Jess felt the energy of excitement and anticipation. She also experienced something even more important. Hope. A new future for the orphaned Clintons. There was hope in that.

 * * *

Jess was puzzled. She could have sworn the sign had read
Lazy K Ranch
, but that was several miles back. Where the heck was this place? Just then another sign, bigger and more impressive, came into view. It was connected to two twenty-foot poles and hung over a dirt drive. "Lazy K Ranch - 1908, owner, Fred D. Clinton" was etched into the dark oak wood. About a mile down the drive, Jess detected a large, two-story, white, framed house and an even larger red oak barn. "We’re here," she spoke softly under her breath, and then sighed. "We’re really here."

Chapter 6

He sat on the porch and glanced at his watch for the hundredth time.
Where are they
, he wondered? After two hours he was more than a little impatient. Already, he’d polished his saddle, rubbed down his horse, swept the porch, whittled a bear figurine and was starting to carve a deer when he heard the crunching sound of tires on gravel. Glancing up and squinting, he could just make out a small, red Toyota. He stood and brushed the wood shavings off his pants. After rearranging his hat, he leaned back against the railing and crossed his arms. As the car neared, he could see a woman with light brown hair sitting in the driver’s seat. In back, there appeared to be two younger ones, a girl and a boy. The girl was hanging out of the window as if anxiously wanting to see everything. The boy, on the other hand, was slumped down in the seat with what looked like a scowl on his face.

He approached the car to greet them. "Hi! Welcome to the Lazy K. You must be Jessica Clinton," he said.

"And you’re too young to be Uncle Fred," Jess answered with a puzzled look on her face. She looked over his shoulder. "Where is he, may I ask. And who are you?" she added with an edge to her voice, as she stepped out of the car.

He looked amused and scratched his forehead while answering. "My name is Daniel. Daniel Ross." He held out his hand, but when she didn’t respond he just shrugged his shoulder.

"My uncle?" she reminded him, though rather rudely.

"I’m afraid I have some rather bad news for you, Miss," he began. Your uncle was attacked the other evening. Unfortunately, a blow to the head put him in coma. He’s at Lawton General."

Jess stood there with her mouth open, working her jaw but no words followed. Her previous relief and comfort found in arriving at the ranch now gave way to confusion and uneasiness.

Daniel took hold of her arm and led Jess to the porch. "I think maybe you need to sit down." He realized that she looked as though she might faint. "You see, I’m supposed to take you to Miss Emma’s ranch," he explained. "She says you’re to stay with her until … well, for the time being, anyway. So if you’ll just rest a minute, then we can get going and I’ll …"

"Wait! Now, wait just a minute," Jess interrupted. "I still don’t know who the heck you are. And who’s Miss Emma?" She pushed Daniel’s arm away.

"Look, ma'am. I’m just trying to do my job. What I was asked." He was losing patience. What was wrong with this girl anyway? By now he could see she was younger than he’d first guessed. Twenty or so. About ten years younger than he. And definitely acting it. "Ma’am, if you’ll just do what …"

"No. I want some questions answered before I go anywhere." 

Lord, is she stubborn
. He decided to try and be a bit more patient. "Okay. Shoot."

"All right. Thank you. Now, why didn’t anyone call to let me know?" she inquired.

"Because you would have already been on the road when it happened, I guess. Besides, with all the commotion going on, Miss Emma just remembered this morning that you were coming. She sends her apologies. Would have said them to you herself, but to tell you the truth, she won’t leave your uncle’s bedside."

Jess seemed to be reflecting on all this, Daniel noticed. So he waited for her to speak. During the silence he took in the details of her appearance. She was tall and thin, probably five-eight or five-nine, he estimated. Her hair was long and wavy, which she had managed to pull back in a ponytail save for a few stubborn strands curled over her forehead. Her tanned face wore a splattering of freckles, covering her nose and cheeks. Then there were her eyes. They impressed Daniel the most. The color, like the turquoise of Indian jewelry but a deeper, stronger blue, intensified with her anger, he had noticed only a moment ago. This girl, or woman, had fire in her, and surprisingly he realized how much he liked that.

"Oh, my!" Jess exclaimed softly, and then sat down right where she’d been standing on the ground.

Everything he’d said must have finally sunk in, Daniel guessed.

"If you’d like me to take you to the hospital first, I could," he offered. "I just thought you might want to freshen up after your long drive and all."

"No. No. It’s okay. You’re right. I’m just not thinking straight," she said and looked at Daniel inquiringly. "What happened?"

He then told her how Fred was attacked. They had taken Joseph Whitedeer, a local Choctaw Indian and sometimes-ranch hand, into custody. Daniel explained how someone had seen Joseph hanging around the ranch, drunk as usual. He’d gotten his ranch hand pay that morning, cashed it, then gone straight to the bar and drank away the afternoon. He’d been stumbling aimlessly back to the bunk house, shouting obscenities, when Fred had come out of the house and warned Joseph to be quiet and to go sleep it off. That was the last any of the hands had seen of Fred till after the attack.

"But how could that be enough evidence to accuse and arrest Joseph?" Jess asked.

"They also found a necklace belonging to Joseph in your uncle’s bedroom where the attack occurred," Daniel explained.

"Are they’re sure it belongs to him?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You see the necklace has distinctive markings of Choctaw craftsmanship. And Joseph has been seen wearing the necklace. So there’s really no room to doubt it’s his," Daniel confessed.

"Is he … a friend of yours?" Jess asked.       

Daniel guessed the reasoning behind her question. Joseph was Indian and he, Daniel, looked Indian. After all, don’t all Indians know each other? One Indian is just like any other, or … The comments were numerous; Daniel was well aware, and tiredly impatient as he responded.

"Joseph is Choctaw. I’m part Cherokee. No, we’re not related. No, we’re not friends," he informed her with coldness in his voice.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way." Jess stumbled over her words to apologize.

"It’s okay, Miss Clinton," he said formally, reaffirming the distance between their positions.

"If you’ll just …" he gestured toward the car.

"Yes, of course." Jess anxiously hurried to her vehicle, wanting to escape the uncomfortable situation she’d so thoughtlessly created.

"Who’s that?" Missy inquired as soon as Jess got into the car.

"He’s a very nice man whom I’ve just insulted," she answered.

"What?" Missy looked puzzled.

"Never mind." Jess put her off. "Just call me an insensitive boob."

"We can sure do that!" Deek retorted, the first words to escape his mouth since leaving Missouri.

"Hey!" Jess glanced in the rearview mirror and detected a smile along with his words. Now, that was worth the insult, she decided.

However, she didn’t have time to worry about Deek right now. A bigger weight hung on her shoulders. They couldn’t impose on a total stranger by staying at her ranch indefinitely, even if she was a close friend of Uncle Fred. And from what Daniel had told her, the invalid relative probably wouldn’t be coming home to the Lazy K any time soon. Her mind was blank. They had nowhere else to go, she thought desperately.

* * *

Boy, prejudice came in all kinds of packages, Daniel decided and shook his head. Even attractive ones. His truck bounced and quaked as he drove rather fast and recklessly down the bumpy dirt road. He still burned with anger and embarrassment as he recalled their conversation. He was used to comments, but for a reason he didn’t understand, her words bothered him. Why? He'd let himself think about that during the drive over to Emma’s ranch, but suspected he wouldn’t arrive at an answer. He shook his head. "Women," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

Was this guy insane? Jess frantically tried to keep her small vehicle on the road as she followed Daniel’s truck.
Bam
! Once more the front tire hit a hole and the back tires barely missed it as she swerved sharply to the left.

"Probably punctured the engine on that one," she grumbled and pressed hard on the horn to get Daniel’s attention.

"Is this the way they drive in Oklahoma?" she screamed out the window, hoping he would hear, but only managed to get a face full of dust. Jess wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Red Oklahoma dust
. She spit into a tissue and wrinkled her nose.

She seriously believed her car would fall apart, and she was getting ready to slow down, risking the chance of losing him, when the sign appeared. The words
Dusty Rose
were situated in the center of a wooden plaque, surrounded by a border of beautifully engraved roses. Unlike the
Lazy K
’s, this sign had a feminine quality that continued down to the ground where colorful primrose plants nestled at the base of the wooden poles. So captivated was Jess by this lovely scene, she hadn’t noticed Daniel slowing down to turn. Slamming on her brakes her vehicle missed Daniel’s by inches. She fumed and got out of the car. Banging the door shut, she marched over to the truck.

"What the heck kind of a ride was that? Are you trying to kill us?" she ranted. "I mean, I don’t think there’s much left of my car that’s not been knocked loose."

* * *

Daniel watched as Jess stood there, boiling with anger, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. Full of fire, he noticed and admired it.

"Okay, okay," he began and held up his hands. "I’m sorry. I do apologize. I was totally out of line." His tone of voice was serious, but she must have detected the slight smile he couldn’t seem to hide.