A Dream Unfolding (19 page)

Stepping back into the bright sunlight, Will motioned Owens and Whitten to follow him back to the center of town.
 
On the way to the doctor’s office, they passed several businesses, including the store, butcher, restaurant, livery, and more.

Will pulled his mount to a stop in front of the store.
 
Stepping inside the building, the friendly shopkeeper greeted them.
 
Will retrieved the long list of supplies from his front shirt pocket.
 
Unfolding it, he then handed the list to the shopkeeper.
 
He mentioned he would stop back the following morning for the filled order.
 

Since he purchased a five month supply of various food stuffs suggested by Snake, Will required two additional wagons and a team of oxen before returning in the morning.
 
The livery owner happily sold him the team and wagons, agreeing to board them for one additional night.

Next, Will planned to hire a few more cowboys.
 
He hoped to find experienced men, but would settle for anyone who could ride a horse.
 
The shopkeeper suggested the restaurant down the street, popular with the local cow hands.
 
Heavily spiced air assaulted his nostrils as he entered the establishment.
 
His stomach growled.
 
Motioning for Whitten and Owens to sit, Will waited for a young senorita to take his order.
 
He spotted a man, who looked like he might be a rancher, entering.
 

Will stood, introducing himself.
 
“Will
Colter
,” he said extending his hand.
 
The man shook his offered hand with a firm grip.

“Alexander Morrow.
 
What brings you to Santa Fe?”

“We are passing through on our way to the Arizona Territory,” Will replied.

“Heard there’s some good pasture land out that way.”

“Heard the same,” Will commented.
 
“Would you know where I might find a few men willing to hire on for the rest of the journey?”

“Well, good cowboys are hard to come by.
 
Most of the men I’ve hired recently came from wagon trains headed west—men who decided Santa Fe was far enough.
 
There’s one such train camped near the west side of town.
 
They’ll probably stay for a few days since they just arrived.”

Will asked, “You know anyone who might be looking to buy a few head of longhorns?”

“Depends on how many you want to sell.
 
If it’s just a few head, the butcher down the street would probably take them.
 
If you were thinking of a hundred or more, then try Fort Union—though it’s more than a day’s ride north of town.
 
Sometimes they take the steers and let them graze until they are ready to slaughter ‘
em
.
 
You should get two hundred a head, may be more.”

At Will’s wide eyes, the man chuckled, “Prices are real good this far west and they get better the farther you go.
 
At least if you’re on the selling side of the transaction.”

He thanked Mr. Morrow for the information.
 
When they finished their meal, Will sent Whitten and Owens out to the wagon train to ask around, while he walked down the street to the butcher.
 
Looking to part with roughly a dozen cattle, he secured the sale with the butcher.
 
He made arrangements to deliver the longhorns the following morning.

Mounting his horse, Will headed west out of town to meet up with Owens and Whitten.
 
As he approached, Whitten spotted him.

“We didn’t find anyone who wants to sign on to go to the Arizona Territory, but we did find a man interested in selling his Herefords,” Whitten said.

Owens added, “He’s got about twenty head or so.
 
Good breeding stock.”

While Will could use men more than additional cattle at this point, this news intrigued him.
 
Back in Texas he and his father spoke several times about adding Herefords at the ranch.
 
The beef this breed supplied demanded higher prices.
 
Longhorns were gaining an unfavorable reputation along the trails for spreading disease.
 
Whether well founded or not, the fear of disease would change the cattle industry.
 
Bringing a small herd of Herefords with him, would allow Will to eventually move away from longhorns all together.

“Did he say how much he wants to sell them for?” Will asked.

“That’s the crazy part. He’s just looking for forty dollars a head.
 
That’s less than they are going for back east,” Whitten answered.

Puzzled, Will asked, “Did you see them?
 
Are they diseased or otherwise unhealthy?”

“Yeah, we saw them and they’re in excellent condition,” Owens commented.

“The man said he wanted to settle here and work for someone else.
 
Lost his wife on the way out and doesn’t want to go further.
 
Figures he can provide for his children better here than in California,” Whitten said.

Offering the man eight hundred dollars for the twenty head seemed like thievery, but the man quickly agreed to the price and thanked him for taking the small herd off his hands.
 
Will and his men rounded up the new cattle and drove them back to the rest of the herd.

Even though he had more cattle than this morning, he still did not have any more help.
 
Hoping to catch a few hours of sleep, Will laid out his pallet.
 
Before he started to lie down, Miguel rode up with two unfamiliar men.

“Boss,” called out Miguel.
 
Pointing to the two men next to him, he said, “vaqueros,” the word the Mexicans used for cowboys.

Piecing together conversation half in English and half in Spanish, Will figured that the two men were looking for work and had been
vaqueros
for several years.
 
Will outlined the terms of work and they shook on it.
 
Raul Espinoza and Diego Ruiz officially joined the crew.

The next afternoon, Will instructed Jed and Hawk to saddle up for town.
 
On the ride in Jed remained silent, riding behind Will as he and Hawk passed the time chatting.
 

Once in town, Will instructed Jed to go pick up the wagons and team from the livery while he led Hawk to the general store.

“Figure it might be best if you had a few changes of clothes,” he said as they entered the rough adobe structure.

Hawk’s blue eyes rounded in surprise.
 
“But, I don’t have no money.”

Will half smiled.
 
“Consider it part of your wages.”

The young man quickly picked out a blue cotton button down shirt that resembled a smaller version of the one Will wore.
 
He also grabbed two pairs of levis and a slightly faded red shirt.
 
After they were sure the clothing fit, the store clerk helped him pick out a pair of leather boots and a hat.

“Why don’t you change into one of your new get-ups,” Will suggested to Hawk.

When Hawk returned from the back room, he looked like a full-fledged cowboy—and much closer to his actual age.
 
Anyone passing him on the street would be hard pressed to think some Indian blood flowed through his veins.
 
The broad grin on Hawk’s face was worth the trip.
 
Will figured it earned him a few more steps up on the ladder of trust.

Jed joined them a few minutes later with the wagons pulled around to the back of the store.
 
When he caught sight of Hawk, his jaw slacked open.

“Sure don’t look like an
injun
,” Jed muttered under his breath before he grabbed a crate from the stack and shoved it into the wagon.

Over the next few hours, the men loaded the two wagons.
 
Once the task was complete, Hawk drove the double wagon and team back to camp while the other two men followed on horseback.
 
Will planned to leave Hawk in charge of supply wagons for the remainder of the journey, as he was still learning the skills necessary for driving the herd.

Since Santa Fe was the last major sign of civilization along the way, Will announced the men could have the night off if they wanted it.
 
Pedro, Miguel, Raul, and Diego volunteered to stay behind to watch the herd.
 
The rest of the cowboys eagerly rode to town.
 
Deciding to keep an eye on the young men, Will joined them at the saloon.
 
Although he hated the smoke and the noise, a beer sounded rather appealing.

As he tied Jackson to one of the hitching posts in front of the saloon, his heart beat faster.
 
The wooden doors flapped back on double hinges as men entered the building.
 
Just the sight reminded Will of the man he was nearly a decade ago.
 
He frequently sought refuge in similar establishments back home, drinking the night away—sometimes spending it in the arms of a soiled dove.

Pushing the doors open, he quickly took in the familiar scene.
 
Some half-clothed woman banged out a raucous tune on the tinny piano.
 
Clusters of men gathered around tables trying their luck at poker.
 
Miserable, lonely men seated at the bar, swayed to the music or stared into the dark amber liquid.
 
Women with brightly painted lips and too much bosom showing, hung over the railing above, calling to men with their enticing siren’s song.

Will swallowed, unnerved that even after so much time his pulse would quicken just being in such a place.
 
He would just hide out at the bar.
 
That’s it.
 
No cards.
 
No women.
 
His stomach lurched from nervousness.

Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered his refreshment.
 
The very drunk man seated next to him struck up a conversation.
 
“
Wherrrr
youuuu
headed?” the slurred words barely understandable.

“Arizona Territory, the north central area.”

“You got a bit…journey ahead…
youuuuu
there.
 
Probably…’
nother
month or
soooo
.”

Could it really be that close?
 
Just another month?

Will smiled before taking another swig of his drink.
 
As his glass made contact with the bar counter, a scantily clad saloon girl came up behind him, her cheap perfume causing his eyes to water.
 

Draping her arms around Will’s neck, she asked, “Can I help you with anything, handsome?”
 

As she spoke in lilting tones, she ran her hands across Will’s chest eliciting a reaction from him.
 
Suddenly the air seemed thicker, harder to breath.
 
It would be too easy to give in to the desire coursing through his veins.

He cleared his throat begging his body not to respond.
 
Grabbing her hands, he removed them from his chest.
 
Annoyed with his own physical reaction, he firmly commanded the soiled dove to move along.
 
At his frown and obvious disinterest, the woman scurried away to find another more amiable patron.
 

Maybe it was not such a good idea to come here.
 
Downing the last of his beer, he went outside to clear his head.
 
Leaning on the railing of the porch in front of the saloon, Will took several deep breaths.

Years ago when he made the commitment to God, he gave up pursuing what the young woman offered.
 
If she caught him after another beer or two, would his self control still reign?
 
Stupid, stupid, stupid
.
 
He chastised himself for coming this close to yielding to temptation.
 
What kind of example was this for the young cowboys in his employ?

“Boss,” Jed asked, “is it time to go?”

Will turned to see Jed, Hawk, and Covington all coming out of the saloon.
 
They must have seen him exit.
 
Doubly glad he had not done anything he would regret, he answered, “I was thinking of heading on back.
 
We’ll be pulling out tomorrow afternoon and this will be our last opportunity to rest up.
 
You may stay if you want.”
 
He didn’t want to dictate to the men how they could spend their free time.

Hawk spoke first, “We’d like to go back to camp, too.”

Jed and Covington nodded their agreement before untying their horses from the hitching post.
 
Most young cowboys welcomed a night, a very long night, at the saloon.
 
Well, Will was proud of their decision.
 
It certainly showed a maturity beyond their young years.
 
Mounting his horse, he led the way back to camp.

Sometime, very late into the night, Whitten, Snake, and Owens returned.
 
Will heard the racket they made stumbling over themselves.
 
They were most definitely drunk.
 
Come morning they may regret their decision.