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Rebellion in the Valley Page 9
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P
Puma Canyon lent for a calming ride as horse hooves clamped down over the compacted narrow trail. Orange and yellow leaves fell from aspen and birch limbs and into the creek down below in the embankment; chances of the cat living along these large boulders and drinking from that creek were not only possible, but probable. Eyes darted from boulder to creek several times over the course of the morning until the man who rode next to Tobias began holding his face at a sharper angle, his forehead pulling together more often and his jaw clenching.
Finally, the man felt the need to break the group’s silence.
“I’m sure we’re getting closer now, I smell it.”
Tobias nodded. “I’m with you on that one; keep your eyes open and fixed, boys. Boss, looks like you’re gonna have that pelt after all. Maybe even by the end of the day if she cooperates with us. Then we can all get back to the ranch and Hailee.”
Once the words tumbled out, there was no taking them back. His glance caught Bruce nodding his head at the mention of his daughter.
“I do believe you’re right,” he beamed. “Let’s get this job done and get home, boys. More than a few days from my little girl makes a distracted hunter.”
Tobias understood the sentiment and nodded, wiping sweat from his brow with an absent-minded motion.
Duffy observed Tobias from a few horses back; something brewing there, he just knew it. The man looked a bit too nervous for his liking when he mentioned the boss’ daughter; Duffy cocked his head, narrowing his gaze on Tobias.
He’d suspected something going on between those two when he walked into the barn and caught them standing all too cozy. That little moment sparked his curiosity, but now he was positive those two young 'uns were keeping a secret.
He would find out what that secret was and put a stop to it, by gosh! Wasn’t nobody gonna take what he wanted, and Duffy had a mind to have that ranch.
Chapter 11
“Gin,” she stated. “Again.”
Richard slumped over in mock disgrace, covering his eyes with the cards still left in hand.
“Okay. Let’s make it best out of ten rounds instead of five; you’ve already whipped me three of those and I can’t let no little girl be fer whippin’ this old man at a friendly game cards, of all things,” he winked.
Shuffling the deck, he glanced up at the girl and then shuffled once more-just to be sure. When the old cook began to file through his own cards, he scowled and made a sour face.
“Good thing we aren’t betting anything tonight - I’d be losin’ my socks!”
She giggled and flipped down two pairs.
“What? Already? You’re killin’ me, girl,” he teased only half-heartedly.
“We could always leave the game for later,” she suggested.
“Deal,” he stretched both arms overhead. “And I don’t mean the cards, either. This old man needs a break.”
“Me, too,” she nodded. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all day?”
Wincing as he hoisted himself up off the chair, the man placed a palm against his hip and grunted as he forced himself to stand completely erect.
“Don’t know what you’ve been thinking about, but I’ve been spending a mighty long time thinking about the days when I jumped off my seat without having to make old man faces,” he poked his tongue out playfully. “Let’s put on a pot of water and get some potatoes peeled while you tell me what’s been on your mind.”
“I’ve been thinking I need to keep my mind occupied,” she glanced back to him as she reached into the cupboard for the large cooking pot. “And it sure would be nice to actually have all my yarn put back before I start a project so you people don’t have to listen to me complain all winter, don’t you think?”
Teasing, he nodded.
“Well, Daddy said I could get some sheep, right?”
“That he did.”
“That brings me to what I need from you,” blinking her eyelashes a bit much, she placed both hands under her chin. “Do you think you could help me bake a pie for the Hoods? They might think of me as annoying if I stopped by asking for a favor without bringing them something in return.”
“Girl, your list of things to do has grown over this past year, but I have to hand it to you,” Richard nodded as he cut the vegetables and scooped them up. “Seems like you’re more than able to keep up with your interests. All except that idea of teaching Epoenah to walk backwards, that is.”
“Hey! Have you been comparing notes with Tobias or something?”
Changing the subject straight away, Richard tilted his head to side and inquired, “Are we talking about a fresh filling for that pie, or should we pull out a jar from the pantry?”
P
Tom Hood stood in the yard with a heavy ax hung on his shoulder and the Rosita sunshine in his eyes. The unevenly stacked pile of pine at his feet begged him to finish the job at hand, but judging from the look Hailee caught on his face, his back leaned more toward taking a break.
Just as he swung the ax again, Susan called out the window, “Tom, isn’t that the Johnson girl?”
Hailee waved and called back, “Yes, It’s me, Mrs. Hood! Are you busy?”
Susan flashed that inviting grin all the neighbors had grown to love.
“Never too busy for you, dear!” she responded as the heavy wooden door flung wide open.
Tom propped the ax up against the wood pile, thankful for the rest he intended to take anyway.
“And especially never too busy when you’re bringing food,” he teased when he saw the checkerboard cloth covering what was, he hoped, a baked good of some sort.
Susan shook her head.
“Oh, never mind Tom,” she chuckled. “I haven’t had a chance to bake much of anything sweet for almost a week now and I suspect he might be able to smell treats from fifty yards at this point.”
Grinning in agreement to that assumption, he propped his ax up against the pile and held out an arm as if to escort the treat-toting ladies inside.
“Young lady, how is that father of yours? Last time I saw him, we were both standing in line to pay for some grain in Westcliffe,” Tom recollected. “If memory serves me right, he has a notion on planting a whole new crop of apples. Is that so?”
She nodded and grimaced all at once. “Yes, it is; I’m certain to be one of the main recipients of a good blister when the hole-digging begins,” she glanced down to both palms. “But that won’t be for a while, anyway, seeing as how he and some of the others have gone off for a while.”
Tom listened to Hailee’s explanation as to where her father had gone and for what reason. The news allowed both he and his wife a sense of relief.
“Good. Long as they stay close to the canyon, I bet they’ll come across her; she’s causing a lot of trouble around here. I know several of us up and down this stretch of road alone have lost critters,” Tom reached over and took Susan’s hand.
“We even lost our favorite kitty,” he mumbled, taking note of his wife’s saddened face.
Susan’s head bobbed in disbelief, as if she still held out some measure of hope to see her furry little friend scurry across the floor at any moment.
Before Hailee offered any words of comfort, Susan stated, “A young girl doesn’t come all the way down the road with a fresh peach pie just to hear about the misfortunes of other people’s critters. What I’m hoping is, you’ve come to ask me for help in one way or another. My girls have all grown up and moved into town. It sure would be nice to be needed for a little something now and again,” she smiled.
Hailee blushed. Had she really been that obvious?
“Well, now that you mention it, I heard you know how to spin your own yarn from your sheep. Is that true?”
“Is that true?” Tom repeated. “That’s my cue to scoot on back outside. I thank you for the peach pie, Hailee, but this is where I get on with my work,” he winked.
The women scooted their chairs to different spots around the kitchen table,
pushing dishes off to the side for the moment as Susan leaned in closer.
“Maybe if you could fill me in with what you already know about sheep and the caring for them, tending to them, fleecing them -”
“Oh, my goodness, I’m about as clueless as you might imagine! All I know about sheep is, I get my yarn and sewing thread from them. I have no idea how the color gets into the thread or how it gets wound onto those tiny little spools. Can you teach me all that stuff?”
Nodding her head, Susan’s expression demonstrated patience with the inexperienced sheep lover.
“Have you got any supplies to use once you have yarn or thread?”
“My mother’s old spinning wheel is upstairs in Daddy’s bedroom. He keeps it dusted and said he oils it every now and again, gives the wheel a spin to prevent the thing from locking up. But you know something? Not once have I ever sat behind that wheel,” she trailed off.
Susan allowed her a moment to herself, and then when the young lady returned to the present, she asked, “Are you and your father comfortable with you using your mother’s tools and wheel - or have they just been put away?”
“Oh, no! Daddy’s told me more than once that any time I’m ready, they belong to me. It’s just that I almost feel…intrusive by touching it. I didn’t know my mom but I know she would have wanted me to learn her trademark craft, to carry it on. Still,” she looked down to the floor. ”It just feels like I’d be touching things I shouldn’t be.”
Susan nodded.
“I completely understand. When my own mamma died, it took me a full month to empty her coffee-drinking tin,” she reflected, then chuckled to herself. ”Would you believe the coffee actually molded inside that tin cup before I could bring myself to touch it?”
They sat for a few moments and allowed themselves every bit of the silence they shared.
“Well,” Susan began. ”I guess we start from scratch, then. Are you planning on keeping your own sheep or farm them out?”
“Farm them out?”
The look on Susan’s face told her otherwise and she had to laugh at the girl’s expression.
“How many do you think I’ll need just to get started?”
“I think animals should have at least two of each of its own kind to keep ’em company, but that’s just the way I feel. One should suffice just fine.”
Hailee grinned and replied that she had already asked her father for two or three and received the approval she was hoping for.
“Daddy even promised to take me into Westcliffe to purchase feed as soon as he gets back home. Preacher McDermott has the sheep waiting for me in his barnyard.”
“Then we best get to teaching you how to tend to your new critters properly, and that begins with a proper pen. I imagine your pa already has that covered and knows all about their feeding needs, but if you want this project to be all yours, you should plan to all the feeding and tending all by yourself. I just think you’ll appreciate the end project so much more that way.”
“And I’m sure Daddy will, too,” the young lady responded in a grin. “All my father needs is three more things to take care of.”
Pouring a couple of servings of tea, Hailee watched her new instructor pull out two pencils and some paper. She proceeded to draw out the parts of the spinning wheel and asked her student to copy them onto her own sheet of paper.
“This is how my mama taught me,” she explained. “You need to know what each part is called before you can understand what each of those parts does.”
Half an hour passed by before the lesson of part-and-function ended; Susan scooted a heavy spinning wheel from the corner of the room until she had the front facing the center of the room.
“Honey,” Susan asked, “would you mind bringing that over here?” She pointed at the woven basket housing several skeins of yarn and miscellaneous tools such as hooks for crocheting, needles for knitting, scissors and other supplies necessary for a spinner and her craft
Looking into her supply basket made Hailee remember that large basket in the food pantry Richard never seemed to use and made a mental note to ask him if she could have it for her own supplies.
Susan proceeded to explain everything she knew about yarn, taking the girls plumb into the dinner time hour.
The ladies worked together in the Hood’s kitchen, making toasted cheese sandwiches and a batch of seasoned fried taters with green onions to go with the meal, barely stopping for breath as they chattered on and on.
Once the trio had polished off the last of the pie Hailee brought earlier in the day, Tom offered to take Hailee back home in the wagon.
When she began to protest, Susan held up one hand and gave her the surrogate mother look.
“Not with that cat still unaccounted for,” she scolded. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you, especially with your daddy being gone right now. So grab your pie plate and give me a hug before ya go,” Susan smiled once more. “And let me know what you Pa says about the sheep,” she added.
Just as the wagon turned into the Red Bone Ranch, Hailee turned to Tom.
“Ya know, if I would’ve known how much fun you and Susan can be, I would have come bothering you long before today,” she smiled, then turned in her seat to give him a giant hug before leaping off the buckboard seat.
Tom handed the brown pie plate down to her and reminded her to come back any old time she felt the urge to get away for a while.
That night, as she sat in front of her bedroom mirror with hairbrush in hand, Hailee felt blessed to have a connection to so many good people in her life; it was a fact that her family was a small one, but there was nothing small about the amount of love that filled her life.
Chapter 12
As Bruce scanned the depths and crannies of Puma Canyon, his eyes narrowed as if he could see behind the enormous boulders by doing so; cautious as his men were, the cat’s home could be almost anywhere. Lodge pole pines surrounding the cliffs would help that dang thing stay hidden from human eyes.
With the steepest climb in the canyon laying in the stretch of road before them, the packed dirt offered a route only wide enough for maybe two horses, side by side; the fella having the misfortune of riding on the outside of the path best not have a fear of heights, as the bottom of the ravine shouted threats of a most unpleasant landing.
As if those threats had been heard and understood clearly enough, a couple of the men snugged to the inside of the canyon wall, allowing their horses to keep at a slow trot and no more. Rattlesnakes peeking heads out from under one of those sun-warmed boulders and spooking a man’s horse as it slithered under hoof could mean the end of the day for a rider; without the extra space for a horse to properly kick and whinny it’s disapproval, every eye focused both overhead in the crags for the cat – and underfoot for snakes.
A stiff breeze weaved its way through the trees in the canyon below and the scrub oak spotting upward on the sides of the canyon.
When it caught the hat perched atop one of the men’s head, he reached up with a swift hand to grab for it, but his prized head covering was long gone.
“Well, heck!” he grumbled. “I just got that dang thing in town, and now I gotta go get me another one!”
His riding partner chuckled and told him it was ugly when it was new anyhow.
“I liked your old one better. It wasn’t so fancy,” he grinned, reminding his hatless friend about the numerous bird droppings the other one had managed to collect.
“You saying you’d rather look at me covered in bird stuff?”
“Well,” his friend’s grin widened as he continued to tease, “just until cows learn how to fly.”
“You’re one of those comical fellas, aren’t you? And I got me front row seats,” he shook his head, glancing over to Bruce.
“Hey, you know what I could go for right about now?”
His friend made a face and twirled a finger at the side of his head in the widely-accepted motion indicating craziness. “Half a lick of sen
se?”
“Hilarious. I was thinkin' about a handful of those cherry taffy candies we got in town. Don’t that sound real good?”
“They about tore the rest of my teeth out of my head, but they sure did it in the sweetest of ways,” he agreed. “I could go for a big ole hunk of cake, even,” he suggested.
Bringing up the rear of the procession, Duffy grunted his input to his fellow worker’s conversation and it occurred to Bruce the man’s entire day had been spent riding alone, keeping to himself and avoiding human interaction.
Wishing he could muster the courage to come on out and ask the man what was on his mind, Bruce opted to leave him be for a while. He had come to the conclusion that sometimes people change and it’s as simple as that; he decided sometimes even they don’t understand how or why.
“You’re making my mouth water, boys,” Bruce groaned.
Changing the subject off food, he ran a sweaty hand down his dungaree pants and posed the question of how a man’s hands get so grimy just sitting on top of his horse.
“I’m hoping for a good, long soak in the tub soon as we get home, I know that much,” he volunteered, wiping grit from between his fingers.
Returning his attention back to the canyon walls where the wind steadily picked up its pace again, he noticed the leaves beginning their fall color-changing and made a mental note to bring a few of them home for his daughter.
The man riding directly behind Tobias snapped his fingers and inquired of the others, “Hey, speaking of home, did anyone else catch the news about the Pocahontas Mine?”
At the mention of his prospective riches, Duffy’s ears perked straight up like one of those German hunting dogs, preparing himself for the gush of commendations and good wishes for all who had the good sense God gave a goose to buy into those stocks in the first place.
“I’ve been getting wind of a few things folks are talking about, what did you hear?”