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Authors: William W. Johnstone

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BOOK: A Lone Star Christmas
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Live Oaks Ranch, December 13
Two of Big Ben Conyers' ranch hands, Roy Baker and Gene Finely, drove a wagon up to the front of the house. There was a coniferous tree in the wagon so large that the top, and fully one third of the tree, extended from the back of the wagon.
“This is about the largest one we could get in the wagon, Mr. Conyers. Fact is, it might be too big to go into your house,” Roy said.
“If we can get it in through the door without breaking off too many of the limbs, we can set it up in the parlor,” Big Ben said. “It has a twenty-foot-high ceiling.”
“I reckon we can get it in,” Gene said. “If we take it in bottom first, it'll cause the limbs to bend up, and that way they won't break off.”
“As soon as we get this one up, I want you to find another good tree, and take it in town to the Our Lady of Mercy Orphanage. I told the Sisters there that I'd be bringing them a tree.”
“Yes, sir, we got a real nice one picked out,” Roy said. “Soon as we get this one up for you, we'll go get that one.”
There were at least ten children of the ranch hands, varying in ages from four to twelve. This being Saturday, there was no school, and as the tree was off-loaded from the wagon—it took four men—and moved toward the house, the children all gathered around in excitement.
“I'm going to need a lot of help with this tree,” Big Ben said. “I just don't know who I can find to help.”
“Me, me!” one of the boys shouted, and he was joined by all the others.
“Well, I suppose you can help. Also, Mrs. Conyers made some peppermint candy—way too much for me to eat. I'll need some help with that as well.”
Again the response was enthusiastic.
“Well, come on in then, we may as well get started,” Big Ben said.
The stand for the tree had been built long ago, a crisscross of boards that not only supplied a receptacle for the base of the tree, but also had long enough arms to hold the tree steady. Roy, Gene, and the other two cowboys got the tree mounted and secured.
“Well, I thank you men, I guess I don't need the boys and girls after all,” Big Ben said. “The tree is in, we're all finished.”
“No we aren't,” a nine-year-old boy said.
“What do you mean, we aren't? The tree is up, isn't it?”
“But it's not decorated,” the boy said.
“Oh!” Big Ben said, hitting himself in the forehead. “I
knew
it didn't look right. Mrs. Conyers, do we have any decorations we could put on this tree?”
“How about this?” she asked, putting a box down on the floor.
With shouts of delight, the children opened the box and began applying the decorations.
“Nobody on the ladder unless you are at least twelve years old,” Big Ben ordered.
Roy, Gene, and the other two cowboys remained to help the children decorate the tree, especially the upper part of it. Big Ben and Julia stood back, drinking coffee and smiling as they watched.
“I certainly hope that Rebecca and Dalton are back by Christmas,” Julia said.
“I think they will be. And if they aren't, well, we'll just have a delayed Christmas, is all.”
With the herd
That same night while in camp, Dalton was riding night herd when his horse stepped into a hole, causing the horse and rider to go down. The sleeping herd, disturbed by the unexpected noise, came to their feet as one, and started running.
Dalton got to his feet quickly, but his horse, frightened now by the onrushing herd, ran away, and Dalton suddenly found himself standing in front of the herd with no way to escape.
Tom was the other night rider, and as the entire herd broke into a stampede, he saw at once the danger that Dalton was in. Although the riders rotated their horses from day to day, it was a fortunate turn of events that Tom just happened to be astride Thunder, who was the fastest and strongest horse in the entire remuda.
Tom urged Thunder into a gallop, quickly overtaking the running herd. He dashed across the space in front, and without breaking stride, leaned down from his saddle far enough to wrap his right arm around Dalton's waist. Then, lifting him up from the ground and carrying him with one arm, as if he was a football, he galloped ahead of the herd until he had enough of a lead on them to take an angle to get out of their way. Once he was clear of the running herd, he stopped, then put Dalton down.
“All you all right?” Tom asked.
“Yes, I'm fine,” Dalton said, almost too stunned to react.
“There's your horse,” Tom said, pointing to the animal that, once out of danger, started back. “I'll get him.”
Tom recovered the horse, then brought him back to Dalton.
By now Matt and Dusty, who were already about to come on duty anyway, were in the saddle chasing after the runaway herd. Matt was riding his own horse, Spirit. Spirit was fast, and the ground in front was clear, so he was easily able to overtake and then pass the herd.
Matt pulled his pistol and began firing into the air, hoping that the cattle would be more frightened by the noise in front than the noise in back. The gunfire didn't stop the cattle, but it did have the effect of letting the rest of the outfit know what was going on.
The wagons were about one hundred fifty yards away from where the cattle had been sleeping, so even without Matt's warning shots, there wasn't a man or woman on the drive who didn't know what was going on. Matt knew that the others would come as soon as possible, so he kept Spirit galloping, angling toward the side farthest from the wagon until he was no longer in front of, but even with the leaders. Once in position, he did what he could to keep the herd from splitting.
After a moment he heard gunfire coming from the other side of the herd. He didn't know who was there, but was pleased to know that he was no longer alone in trying to stop the stampede. Unlike for a horse, running is not a natural gait for cattle, so Matt knew that if they could keep them from splitting up, the cattle would quickly tire. Then it would be easier to bring them under control.
Dusty and Falcon came up beside him then.
“We have to turn them!” Falcon shouted.
With the three of them shooting their pistols into the air, and swinging ropes, they managed to deflect the leaders for a few moments, but they had only managed to turn a few hundred head, while the momentum of the main body was such that the rest of the herd continued to bore straight ahead.
Abandoning the animals they had turned, they returned to the herd, once again trying to turn them. The idea was to get the cows running in a huge circle, called milling. Since one cow would follow the cow in front, once you got the herd to milling they would essentially stay in the same place, just running in one huge circle.
But so far they had not been able to do that.
Realizing that the relatively few head of cattle they had turned would have no effect on the rest of the herd, they abandoned the ones they had turned, and returned to the rest of the herd. Those they had turned quickly rejoined the herd as well.
By now every member of the camp except for Maria had joined, and they stretched out their line until there was one rider about every thirty feet. They threw everything against the right point and lead, hoping to gradually swing the entire herd. For a while it looked as if they might be successful, but they were stretched too thin, and the cattle went right between the riders until some found themselves on the opposite side of the herd.
Once more, Clay brought all the riders together with the idea of turning the stampede. Then, as it looked as if they may be achieving some success, they suddenly encountered a mesquite thicket which the lead animals crashed into. Before he knew it, Matt was also in the thicket, and he held on to the saddlehorn to keep his seat as horse and rider tore through the spines, sometimes encountering bushes higher than his head.
When Matt emerged through the other side of the thicket, he found himself in the lead of a long string of cattle. Shortly after that, Smoke came out behind him, then overtook him. Matt started to make another attempt to turn the herd, but Smoke waved him off.
“Let 'em run awhile!” Smoke shouted.
Matt knew that it was Smoke's intention to run them until they were tired, so he ran along with them, his only purpose to keep them from scattering.
There were about sixty big steers in the lead, and Matt and Smoke dashed in front of them, shooting their guns into the ground right in front of them. At that, the lead animals turned and started back the other way. With the rear animals coming up behind them, they were finally able to turn the leaders until, running in a circle, they reentered the herd from the rear. As they were the leaders, it had the effect of creating a mill, and now, giving the horses a much-needed break, the cowboys had an easy time of circling around outside the mill, letting the cows continue in one endless circle until they ran themselves into total exhaustion.
This being December, the nights were long and it was still an hour before daylight. The riders had no idea of the number of cattle they had in the mill, but from the size of the area they covered, and the compactness of the herd, they believed they had captured all twenty-five hundred of them.
By daylight, the cattle had grown quiet and were contentedly grazing, just as if they had just risen. Within a couple of hours after daybreak the wagons came up, Sally and Rebecca having gone back to retrieve them. An hour later they were enjoying breakfast.
“I have something to say,” Dalton said, standing up to address the others.
Dalton pointed to Tom. “Tom Whitman saved my life,” he said. “I was de-horsed, and standing there watching that whole herd running right at me. There was nowhere for me to go, no way for me to escape them, until Tom come along. He reached down and scooped me up like I was no more than a rag doll, and carried me out of danger.”
The others applauded and called out to Tom.
“Good man, Tom,” Clay said.
“Anyone else would have done the same thing,” Tom said. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“I doubt that,” Matt said. “How many others could ride by at full speed, and reach down and scoop Dalton up like he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes? I think you are a genuine hero, Tom, and you are just going to have to live with that.”
The others laughed.
“I'm not finished,” Dalton said. “I have something else to say. Tom, I know what you think of my sister, and I know what my sister thinks of you. I know too, what Pa thinks. So what I'm goin' to do when we get back to Live Oaks is talk to Pa. I'm goin' to tell him that if he doesn't get out of the way, he'll have Rebecca and me to deal with.”
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-ONE
Our Lady of Mercy Orphanage, Fort Worth, December 20
It took two wagons and a surrey to bring everyone of Live Oaks Ranch into town to Our Lady of Mercy Orphanage. The Mother Superior had issued the invitation not only to Big Ben, but to all of his employees, to come to the orphanage to see the Christmas pageant.
The pageant was held in the orphanage cafeteria, and it was clear that a great deal of work had been done in preparation. The walls were papered with drawings of the hills of Judea, with a night sky filled with stars. One large star was located over a stable that the older boys had built. All of the children of the orphanage were in period costume.
Big Ben and Julia were provided with comfortable chairs. Because there were more people than chairs, everyone else, children and adults alike, sat on the floor.
“And now,” Sister Dominique said, “we'll have a reading from Robert, who is one of our children. As Robert reads from the scripture, the rest of the children will act it out for us.”
Robert, a young boy of about fourteen, started the reading.
“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.”
As Robert read, two boys who were obviously dressed as Roman soldiers went to the others, and pantomimed the orders.
“And all went to be taxed, everyone into his own city.”
There were giggles and oohs and ahhs from the audience as, coming in through the back door of the cafeteria, they saw a young boy leading a small donkey. A young girl was riding the donkey.
“And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem: (because he was of the house and lineage of David) to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.”
Mary and Joseph, as portrayed by the two young actors, went from place to place, trying to find a room, but in every case they were turned away.
“While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”
Three shepherds came onto the stage then, leading three young lambs. Robert continued to read:
“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
The children sang “Away in the Manger.”
After the song, Robert read again: “
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about. ' So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.”
The three “shepherds” hurried to the crèche where Joseph, Mary, and the Baby Jesus, who was actually an infant girl, the youngest child of the orphanage lay.
“Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.”
As Robert read the Christmas story, three of the children, dressed as “wise men,” walked solemnly across the cafeteria, each of them bearing gifts. As they did so, the other children sang
We Three Kings
. With great pomp and ceremony they presented their gifts.
The program concluded with everyone singing
Silent Night
.
After the program, Sister Mary Katherine stood to address the visitors.
“We want to thank you very much for attending our Christmas pageant,” she said. “And we invite you to join us for cookies and apple cider.”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
“It's Santa Claus!” one of the children shouted, and all yelled and cheered with excitement as they hurried toward the man dressed in red, and carrying a huge sack, filled with toys.
“What is this?” Sister Mary Katherine asked in surprise.
“Well, it's like this, Mother Superior,” Big Ben said. “Santa Claus stopped by to see me at the ranch and I suggested that since he had gifts for the children there, he may as well stop by the orphanage as well.”
As the children all gathered around Santa Claus, who was actually one of the cowboys from Live Oaks, the adults sat to one side of the room, drinking coffee and watching.
“Mr. Conyers,” Sister Mary Katherine said. “I have been at this orphanage for thirty years, and this is the most wonderful Christmas ever. I can't thank you enough.”
“I'm just sorry that I never thought about doing something like this earlier,” Big Ben said. “But I intend to see to it that every Christmas from here on out will be a happy one for the children here.”
“Bless you,” Sister Mary Katherine said, wiping tears from her eyes. “God bless you, Benjamin Conyers.”
Texas Panhandle, December 23
Red Coleman had gathered ten men for the job. He didn't personally know all ten, but he knew several of them, and the ones he didn't know were known by those that he did know. He was fully confident that the ten of them, choosing the time to make their move, would be able to overcome the seven cowboys who were driving the herd. He had been offered eight dollars a head for every cow he delivered to Prewitt. He had promised five hundred dollars apiece to the men who came with him. That would leave him fifteen thousand dollars' profit from this job.
And, as a bonus, he would take care of Smoke Jensen.
There were also three women with the cattle drive, and Red had thrown them in “as a bonus” for his men. “After we kill the men, you can have your way with the women,” he said.
“Where are we going to hit them?”
“At the Canadian.”
“Have you seen the Canadian?” Sid Baker asked. “It's higher than I've ever seen it.”
“Yes. We will let them cross the Canadian River first, then we will hit them,” Red said. “That way we won't have to fool with taking them across ourselves.”
“Ha! Good idea!”
“Then, after they cross, while they are still concentrating on that, we'll take their herd.”
When he was certain that everyone understood their roles in the operation, he stood in his stirrups, then waved them on.
 
It was a gray and overcast day, with threatening clouds hanging low. Storms upstream had made the Canadian River particularly treacherous, for it had flooded over its banks and was filled with uprooted brush and trees. The river, normally no more than one hundred yards wide, was nearly a quarter of a mile across.
“Whoa,” Dusty said. “It sure wasn't like this when we came up.”
“Yeah, if were going to cross the river like this, it would have been better doing it on the way up,” Clay agreed.
“How deep is it?” Smoke asked.
“This is the ford,” Clay replied. “Normally, it's no more than ten to fifteen inches deep here. I have no idea how deep it is now.”
“Well, there's only one way to find out,” Matt said. He rode down to the river, stopped at the edge for a moment to look at the swiftly flowing water, then urged Spirit ahead.
The water was cold, and Spirit reacted to that, but he went ahead. At no point during the crossing did the water rise higher than about three feet, and that was in the very middle. Once he reached the other side, he turned around and came back, purposely coming back on a different track just to make certain that the bottom was relatively the same.
“I don't think we'll have any problem with the depth of the river,” Matt said when he came back. “If we have any problem, it will be with what is floating downstream. A big log piling into the side of the herd as it is midway across could create all kinds of problems for us.”
“Suppose we stretched a rope across?” Tom suggested. “That way we could arrest anything big enough to be of danger.”
“That would be a good idea if we had a rope a quarter of a mile long,” Dusty said.
“It doesn't have to be that long,” Tom insisted. “Bernoulli's principle means that the flow will be more rapid in the middle, creating a suction around it which will draw everything toward the middle.”
“What principle?” Clay asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at the river,” Tom said. “Where do you see most of the trash?”
“He's right,” Smoke said. “Most of it is in the middle. At least, the bigger pieces.”
“All we need to do is stretch a rope across the exact middle of the stream,” Tom said. “I'll be on one end of the rope, and we'll need someone on the other end. We'll hold off anything big while the rest of you get the herd across.”
“What do you think, Smoke? Does it make sense to you?” Clay asked.
“I don't know who this Bernoulli fella is,” Smoke said. “But if he will keep everything in the middle for us, then I say let's try it.”
“Tom, if it's all right with you, I'll take the other end of the rope,” Dalton said.
“Fine with me,” Tom said.
The two men mounted, then rode out into the river, Dalton taking a position on the far side.
“Dalton!” Tom called. “There's a really big log coming! Let this one go.”
“All right,” Dalton agreed.
“Clay!” Tom shouted as loudly as he could. When he got Clay's attention, he pointed to the big log coming swiftly downstream.
“We are going to let this one go by! Let it pass before you come into the water!”
“Gotcha!” Clay called back.
Tom waved back at him, and they watched as the object Tom had pointed out floated by them. More than a log, it was a complete tree.
“Damn,” Dusty said. “If anything that big comes floating down the river, they aren't going to be able to hold it back with just a rope.”
“True,” Clay said. “That's why it is smart to let this one go on by.”
“What if another one comes by just as big?”
“We'll just have to hope that it doesn't,” Clay said. He looked at the others. “All right,” he said. “Let's get these critters across.”
There was good grass here, and water, so the cows had been content to stay. Now they were somewhat less content to proceed on, but with Clay and Dusty on one side, Duff and Falcon on the other side, and Matt bringing up the rear, they pushed cattle down into the water. The lead steers formed a rank of eight across, and the rest of the herd, almost as if in military precision, lined up behind them. That stretched the herd out for nearly half a mile, and when the lead steers went into the water, the others followed docilely behind.
The herd was halfway across when another big log came floating swiftly downstream. It wasn't as big as the tree, but it was big.
“Tom!” Dalton shouted. “Look!”
Tom feared that the log might be big enough to jerk Dalton out of the saddle if he tried to hold on to the rope.
“Dalton, wrap your rope around your saddlehorn!” Tom shouted.
“If I do that, I won't be able to maneuver my end!”
“Don't worry about that! Just do as I say!”
Nodding, Dalton wrapped his end of the rope around the saddlehorn, then waited.
Tom was holding onto his end of the rope, and he was able to snag the log as it came by. The log was huge, and when it hit the rope it jerked the line taut, and for a moment, Dalton was afraid his horse might be pulled down. But the horse, after being jerked downriver a few steps, dug his feet in, locked his legs, and stayed up, holding his position.
Tom worked his end of the rope and managed to keep the log captured, and even with the additional items of trash floating downriver, was able to keep all the major pieces away from the herd. Finally, when the last cow had crossed and was climbing out of the water to the bank on the other side, Tom freed the trapped river debris and let it proceed on downstream, now as one great island.
With the herd safely on the other side of the river, it was now time to bring the wagons across. Once again, Tom and Dalton stretched the rope across to catch the debris. Everything was going well until Sally and Maria in the chuck wagon were three quarters of the way across, and Rebecca, following in the hoodlum wagon, was about one quarter of the way across. It was then that another huge tree, at least as big as the first tree to come down the river, came toward them.
The tree was moving downriver faster than a horse could gallop, and looking at it, Tom knew that he and Dalton weren't going to be able to stop it. Glancing back toward Rebecca, he saw that she was directly in the path of the tree. It was too late for her to go back, her only hope was to go forward as fast as she could.
“Rebecca! Hurry!” Tom shouted. “Hurry, get out of the way!”
By now all of the others, including Rebecca, could see the tree coming, and she slapped the reins against the back of the team of mules she was driving, trying to hurry them across. But the mules, whether they perceived the danger and were frightened by it, or just decided to take that time to balk, halted in mid-stream.
“Tom, we aren't going to be able to stop this thing!” Dalton shouted.
Realizing that Dalton was right, Tom dropped his end of the rope and urged Thunder into a gallop.
At first, the others thought Tom might be trying to escape with his own life, but they saw quickly that he was heading toward the wagon. Rebecca saw him coming toward her, and she stood up on the seat.
“Jump toward me!” Tom yelled, and Rebecca did so. Tom caught her, and managed to barely clear the tree as it slammed into the side of the hoodlum wagon, smashing it into two pieces, and spilling all the contents into the water, to be carried downstream along with the wreckage of the wagon, and the two mules, now braying in terror. Within seconds the mules were quiet, having been swept under the water.
Tom rode up the bank on the other side then turned to look back. Both mules were floating, legs up and silent, until they, what was left of the wagon, and its contents were quickly carried on downstream and out of sight.
“What are we going to do at night, now?” Dalton asked. “Our bedrolls and blankets were in that wagon.”
The seven men and three women looked at the raging river with an expression of apprehension on their faces. Dalton had merely vocalized what everyone in the company was thinking. What would they do?
“All right, folks,” Clay said. “Looking at the water isn't going to get anything back for us. Let's head 'em up and get 'em out. We need to keep moving, now more than ever before.”
BOOK: A Lone Star Christmas
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