The Man from Shenandoah (20 page)

He dreamed of a warm, sweet-smelling girl beside him in the bed, but could not see her face, for her back was to him. When he tried to turn her over, she became a lost cow, frozen in the storm. He cried out, “Ellen!” and awoke.

Sitting up in his bed, he anxiously looked over at James, and noted with relief that he still slept. He lay down again, chest heaving for a time, but sleep soon took him.

~~~

On the far side of the partition, Marie heard the cry, and bit her knuckle in frustration.
He’ll still marry Ida
, she thought bitterly.
He’s said he will
. She closed her eyes, praying for her friend, then fell into a restless sleep.

~~~

Two days were shrouded in cloud and freezing weather, but no more snow fell. Then two days of thaw lifted the hopes of the Owens in anticipation of the Christmas party in Pueblo City. The morning of the twenty-third, however, came without sun. A furious ice storm blew for four days, canceling any thought of leaving the cabin for travel.

Then Nature turned capricious, and brought along warm, fall-like days, and the men worked fast to finish Carl’s cabin. On the third morning, a messenger rode through, bringing a note from Rand Hilbrands that the party was set for New Year’s Eve, if the weather held. “Even if it snows again, come on in. I’ve got plenty of room, and some wonderful news,” the note concluded.

“Mary and I ain’t going anywhere,” Rulon announced. “Her time is too near for traveling.”

“Don’t she lack a month yet, Rule?” asked Julia.

“That’s right, but she ain’t up to the trip. Go ahead, and I’ll stay here with her.”

Rod and the family left the next day, except for Carl, who wanted to put some finishing touches on the cabin before he left. “I’ll be through by tomorrow morning,” he said. “Sherando and me’ll get there late tomorrow.”

“Looks like we’re going to a wedding as well as a dance, Rod,” Julia said as they left in the wagon.

Yep, I reckon you’ll have new kin before the week’s up.”

“I wish Ida had some cattle to bring with her,” Julia murmured.

“Now don’t fret, woman. I’ve been contemplating on what to do about getting us new stock. I’ll take a few of the boys up to Denver City to look up Jonathan. If he can’t put us to work, I’m sure he’ll know of miners we can work for until we have some money. Then I reckon we’ll ride to Texas and pick up some of them long-horned cows. I heard tell at Fort Lyon they’re selling at three dollars a head.”

“That’s sure a fancy plan, Rod Owen. Don’t forget to tote that strong box back to Jonathan.”

Rod laughed at her easy acceptance of his scheme. “You’re a surprising woman, Julia Owen.”

“I reckon. And don’t you forget it.”

~~~

On the morning of December thirty-first, Carl awoke for the first time in his new cabin. He glanced around the dim room, satisfaction stealing over his face. He had built well, and he hoped Ida would appreciate the solidness and hard work that had gone into its creation. Looking up at the loft above him, he thought ahead to the children who would fill it, and smiled as he imagined himself roaring out, “Quiet up there!” echoing his father.

He sat up in the rope bed he had constructed against the end of the room. Fir boughs beneath him creaked with his shifting weight, and he recalled the comfort of the springy branches during the night.

Carl bent over and picked up his jean trousers from the stool near the bed. They were the pants he had bought in Kansas town, his newest clothes. They would have to do for the party, and for the wedding, and for many months of hard work to follow. He stooped and pulled them on, then finished dressing and went outside to the washstand.

The water in the bucket was clear of ice, and Carl felt good about the day. He washed, and shaved carefully with Rulon’s razor, remembering that he must ride back to Rulon’s cabin with it this morning before he left. He would buy a razor and such gear in Pueblo City when he arrived.

He stepped back into the doorway of the new house, and smelled the pungent odor of the newly cut wood in the box beside the fireplace. Ida would love this place, nestled into the clearing like it had grown there. Everything was ready for her to step into the room and take over the cabin to make it a home.

Some primitive caution, born of the howling storms he had undergone, made Carl roll a blanket and tie it to his saddle before he left the cabin. Then he tucked a double handful of jerky made from one of the frozen cows into a sack and tied that on the saddle, too. The same feeling urged him to belt on his pistol. He thought twice over that, telling himself a man didn’t go armed to his wedding. He ignored the thought, and slung the gun around his hips. “I got a ways to go before Pueblo City,” he muttered aloud.

~~~

Carl rode into Rulon’s dooryard just as Chester Bates and his family broke into the clearing from the south.

“Company coming, Rulon,” Carl pointed out as his brother stopped chopping wood to accept the razor. Carl cantered his horse over to meet the new arrivals in front of Rod’s cabin, as Rulon followed on foot. “You all light and set,” he called to the Bates family.

Chester dismounted from a tall brown horse and helped his wife dismount from her bay. Carl dropped off Sherando and ran to help Ellen swing off her dun mare as Rulon arrived to greet the Bates.

Carl grinned at the girl and teased, “You go astride now, Miss Ellen?”

She grinned back. “The wagon broke a wheel, and pa only had one sidesaddle, so Ma got it. I like to ride astride,” she insisted. “I can tell what Dun Baby’s going to do next. She likes to try to throw folks,” she finished in a whisper.

Carl rubbed the frisky animal’s cheek. “Where’d you get her?”

“Pa made up some furniture and traded to a Spanish gentleman for a string of horses. I think they’re only half-broke, but I like that.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “There’s just lots of Spanish folks down where we live, and I’m learning some words already.” She turned toward the stock pens. “Like, ‘corral’ means ‘stock pen’.” She paused. “Where’s your cattle?”

“Up in the woods a piece. We had a little storm up here. Froze ‘em solid as ice cakes, to quote James.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. Her brow furrowed with pain. “That must be a big blow to your pa.”

“He didn’t say a word about it for three days, but you know Pa, nothing keeps him down for long. By now he’s hatching a plan to get us out of this fix.”

Chester came over to Carl and Ellen. “I’m sorry to hear about your cattle. And it looks like we missed your folks. Rulon tells me you’re not going in to the party. I reckon we made this detour for nothing.”

“No, sir. Rulon’s the one not going. I am, and I’d be pleased to ride along with you. How are the rest of the folks? Are any of them coming?”

“The Campbells and the Morgans are back a ways in a wagon, but Tom O’Connor stayed to tend the stock. He says his kids are too young for a dance, anyhow.”

Ellen laughed. “Tom O’Connor is courting a pretty little Spanish girl down in Leones. No dance in Pueblo City could drag him away.”

“You don’t say! I reckon there’s something about this Colorado air.”

Ellen looked puzzled at his remark. He offered no enlightenment, and she looked away, a little sigh moving her shoulders.

“Well, we’d better get, if we’re going to make Pueblo by nightfall,” Chester said. He helped his wife into her saddle and swung into his. “Carl, you young people have frisky horses, so why don’t you take the lead for awhile?”

“Suits me,” Carl said, and locked his fingers to give Ellen a boost onto her dun. Ellen held onto the high horn of the saddle and accepted his help by placing her boot into his hands. Then she was astride the horse, her long skirt flaring out over the cantle and down Dun Baby’s haunches. The dun mare danced around, eager to be off again. Carl laughed in pleasure at the sight, then mounted Sherando.

“That’s a funny looking saddle,” he said, grinning, as they started off. “What’s that high thing in front for?”

Ellen patted the horn. “This here thing is for wrapping a rope around after you get it on a cow. I watched some Mexicans tending cattle down to home, and it’s so exciting what they can do with a rope and a good cow pony. I’ve been practicing throwing a rope, but only when Pa’s not around,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose as she grinned. “He thinks a girl should stick to kitchen chores, but he could use some help when inside work is done.”

“Sounds like you have your house all built.”

“Pa put up the cutest little sod house. It ain’t very big, but it’s enough for the three of us for now.” A lock of red-gold hair got loose from the rest and Ellen pushed it back into place. “Lawsy, I’m going to look a sight when we get to the dance.”

Carl looked at her a long time. “I reckon you’ll do,” he said. “You look kind of carefree and happy, and full of fire.”

Ellen blushed. “I never knew you had a silver tongue, Carl Owen,” she exclaimed.

“I don’t. You look so excited. You’ll be the most fetching girl at the dance. I surely hope you’ll save me a right smart lot of dances.”

“Well,” she said, looking down at the ground. “I’ll think about it.”

The trail they followed dipped into a stream bed, and Ellen slowed her horse to cross it. Dun Baby suddenly stopped and lowered her head to drink. Ellen kept her seat and laughed, then looked around her.

“She won’t move till she’s had her fill,” she called to Carl, who turned Sherando and came back to the stream. “What a pretty valley,” she said, smiling. “And that bench up there, with all those trees. I can almost imagine a cabin built in there. Why, I believe I do see a cabin up there!”

“You do,” Carl said, grinning. “It’s mine. Ain’t it a purty place?”

“It’s right lovely.” Ellen eyed him closely. “Are you bringing Ida back, now that the cabin’s built?”

Before he could answer, Chester Bates and his wife caught up with them.

“I reckon you’re stuck there till she drinks the stream dry, daughter,” Chester mused as he came alongside. “We’ll go on ahead.” He and Muriel trotted their horses out of sight toward the north.

Carl turned to watch them go, his heart pounding. He had almost forgotten Ida in his pleasure at Ellen’s company. Slowly he faced the girl in the stream, setting his teeth and flexing the muscles of his jaw. “Yes,” he said slowly. “She’s expecting me.”

Dun Baby quit drinking, continued across the stream and ascended the bank. Ellen pulled up alongside Carl. Her face was white, and she lifted her chin before she spoke. “I thought you had more sense than to ask one girl to dance while on the way to wed another, Carl Owen.” Her green eyes seemed to be filled with brown sparks as she sat erect on her mare. Then she kneed the dun and started off across the rising valley slope after her parents.

“A man can dance until he’s wed,” he shouted, urging Sherando to follow her.

The rest of the journey was a misery for Carl. Ellen answered when spoken to, but the ease of their conversation had vanished. She rode beside him, but her excitement and joy were gone, and he shrank from the knowledge that he had robbed her of them. The bright, crisp day seemed gloomy and overcast to him. Finally, he rode silently through the tedious miles across the prairie.

Chester called a halt at noon, on the sandy bank of a waterhole. After the horses drank their fill, he allowed them to crop the brown buffalo grass on the plain surrounding the water. When the travelers had eaten and the horses were rested, they resumed their trip.

~~~

Five o’clock had come and gone before Chester Bates and his party rode into Pueblo. Rand Hilbrands’ hotel was well lit for the festivities. Candles burned on every wall inside, and they found that the formerly dim dining room was ablaze with light. The tables and benches had been cleared away, and the space was reserved for dancing. Three musicians tuned their instruments for the next dance set.

Carl glanced around the room, excitement building in him in spite of his miserable trip. He did not see Ida, and turned to Ellen with fierce determination.

“I’ve seen you this far, and I’m claiming the first dance,” he told her, and before she could deny him, he took her hands and pulled her onto the dance floor. Ellen allowed him to lead her into the gaiety, but her stiff movements betrayed her reluctance to dance with him.

“This ain’t fair, Carl Owen,” she whispered grimly, as he held her hands firmly in his.

“Nobody promised you life was fair,” he grunted back.

When the music finished, Ellen removed her hands from Carl’s and fled. He turned to watch her go, and saw Ida coming into the room from the kitchen. She wore a pale yellow dress, the same color as her hair, which was piled upon her head in a new style.

She seemed to see him, then her eyes slid past his in an embarrassed manner, as she continued her advance into the room. Carl felt his heart leap as he made his way through the press of people. She was as pretty as ever, and soon she would be his.

Ida stopped in front of a group of strangers, three young men and two ladies of expensive foreign dress. She greeted them warmly as Carl came up beside her. The strangers replied, and Carl heard the unfamiliar cadences of the King’s English for the first time. He strained to understand the odd phrases and inflections they used as he nervously waited for Ida to break off her chatter and acknowledge his presence. Carl sensed a tensing in her, a strain in her voice as she continued her conversation with the people in the group.