Brings the Lightning (The Ames Archives Book 1) (28 page)

Walt shrugged. “There’s none grown around here, I’m afraid. Everything’s dried or pickled. I hope we’ll be able to find some at towns in Colorado Territory.”

“We still got plenny o’ bullets, suh,” Samson pointed out with a grin. “You shootin’ dat med’cine bundle out o’ dat Injun’s hands sure saved us a lot o’ fightin’ de rest ob de way. It was harder las’ year over dat same stretch.”

“It sho’ was,” Elijah agreed fervently. “We had to fight to get here, an’ fight to get back again, too.”

“I’d better make sure Tad has plenty of ammunition for his Henry, then, just in case,” Walt decided. He set aside another two hundred rounds to give to the scout. That still left them with the best part of two thousand .44 rimfire cartridges for the trip to Denver City.

Tom gave Walt two fifty-pound sacks of oats for the horses. He waved aside his offer of payment. “We probably wouldn’t have made it through that Injun raid without takin’ casualties, but for your help, an’ you gave Tad that Henry. I’d say you’ve earned this an’ more.”

Rose visited the army’s kitchens in search of fresh food, but returned looking disgusted and outraged. “I don’t think they’ve ever even
heard
of basic cleanliness!” she fumed. “There’s rotting food in the storeroom, the kitchen floor hasn’t been cleaned in weeks, the pots and pans are filthy, and the cooks stink of stale food and sweat! Their clothes are sticky with dirt and grease, and their hands are filthy. No wonder the soldiers here have problems with the flux!”

“Better tell Tom not to let his teamsters eat there,” Walt advised. “He needs them all in good shape for the return journey.”

“I’ll do that right now!” She did, and the company owner duly warned his drivers to eat only at their own fires.

Fires proved to be a problem too, as fuel was in very short supply. Captain Gordon offered Tom Jones a lucrative contract to send the first ten wagons to be offloaded to cut firewood twenty miles away, as most of the trees closer to the station had already been cut down. He couldn’t pay in cash, but offered a US Government note to be paid at Fort Riley. Jones accepted, and sent the wagons off under military escort. Walt didn’t know when the next wagon train would arrive, and knew that they might have a long wait, so he unloaded his wagon, storing its contents in and underneath the ambulance, and sent Samson and Elijah along to bring back a load of wood for their own use.

While they waited for the return of the wood party, Walt was summoned to Captain Gordon’s office. He found Sergeant Buell there. They grinned at each other as they shook hands.

“Sergeant Buell has good things to say about you,” the captain began. “He’s been telling me how you helped him whip his recruits into shape on the journey here. He says you supplied him with all the ammunition he needed to train them, and helped instruct them as well. He speaks well of your fighting skills. He also says you were a sergeant with the rebel cavalry during the war, and a scout and courier.”

“That’s right, sir.” Walt waited expectantly, curious to know what the captain had in mind.

“Have you ever considered enlisting in the US Army? We need experienced men, and a number of former Confederates have already joined us. I can offer you corporal’s rank right away, based on what Sergeant Buell tells me, and I’m sure you’d earn sergeant’s stripes again in a matter of months.”

Walt couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks, sir, but no, thank you. What would my wife do if I enlisted out here?”

“I suppose that would be a problem. We have no other families living here yet. Very well, I’m sorry you can’t accept, but in case you ever change your mind, I’m going to give you this letter.” He handed over a sheet of paper. “It states that you’ve rendered valuable assistance to the US Army in training and equipping its recruits, and that you helped them to fight off an Indian attack while on the way here. If you ever need assistance from the army, show that to the officer in command.”

“Thanks very much, sir,” Walt acknowledged, genuinely grateful. “I’ll keep it safe.”

When he showed it to Rose that afternoon, she couldn’t help chuckling. “What is it?” he asked, bristling slightly.

“I was thinking of that letter of recommendation you showed on the riverboat. At least this one’s real!”

He grinned. “Yeah. If anyone checks up on this, it’ll pass muster.”

“The other one won’t. You’d better burn it, just in case.”

“I did that back in St. Louis before we left.”

“You never told me that!”

“Didn’t think it was important.” He still hadn’t told her about his second encounter with the gambler and his accomplice, either. He figured he probably never would.

“Oh. All right… but to think of you in Union blue!” She shook her head. “I’m glad you turned them down, Walter Ames. I wouldn’t want to be married to a blue-belly.”

He nodded. “That captain surely meant it kindly, but I’ll join the Kiowa and go half-naked before I’ll ever wear that uniform.”

“And I’ll go with you!” Rose said, fiercely.

Walt couldn’t help but smile at the Southern pride burning in her eyes. If ever he’d wondered if he’d done the right thing by marrying her, he didn’t anymore.

―――――

Five days after Tom Jones left with his wagons and Sergeant Buell’s platoon on the long journey back to Fort Ellsworth, a patrol came in with news that a big ox-wagon train was only a day out, headed through to Denver City. “They’re loaded down with heavy equipment for the mines,” the sergeant in charge of the patrol told Walt. “They’re havin’ real trouble with one big boiler. It’s got to weigh three, maybe four thousand pounds if it’s an ounce, and the wagon carryin’ it is founderin’. It’s already broken two axles and a wheel. It just can’t take the load.”

“Can’t they fix it?”

“They have, three times already, but it keeps breakin’ down. I reckon they may have to abandon it here. I don’t think that wagon will last another fifty miles, let alone make it all the way to Denver City.”

Sure enough, when the long train of over a hundred wagons rolled into sight the following afternoon it was moving very slowly, held back by the lumbering wagon carrying the boiler. It creaked and groaned with every revolution of the wheels, and sagged visibly. Samson and Elijah shook their heads in unison as soon as they saw it.

“Ain’t gonna make it,” Elijah said flatly.

“No way, no how,” Samson agreed. “Dat’s an old wagon to start wit’, an’ dey loaded it too heavy. Only way dey gonna move dat boiler outta here is on a new wagon, properly bedded down an’ braced to spread de load across bot’ axles.”

“I’d forgotten how much you’ve learned about the wagon trade,” Walt remarked. “You’ll not lack for work in Colorado Territory. Skilled teamsters are hard to find.”

“Yassuh,” Samson agreed. “Mistah Jones, he gib us letters to a haulier he know in Denver City. ’Lijah an’ me, we gonna talk to him if you ain’t got work for us once we get dere.”

“We’ll see how things look when we arrive. I don’t yet know what I’m going to do there to earn a living.”

All was bustle in and around the stage station as the newcomers drew their wagons into two circles of about sixty wagons each, and put out their oxen to graze. They’d brought some more cargo for the army, which was offloaded into storehouses at once. Walt noticed a couple of men staring at his wagon as they passed to and fro, but he thought nothing of it.

That night Rose made stew from a deer Walt had shot a few miles from the fort. They’d just finished eating and cleaning up when a voice hailed them from the darkness. “Hello, the fire! Can we come up an’ talk with you?”

“Come ahead,” Walt called, turning to face the voice. “Who is it?”

A burly man emerged from the darkness, followed by another. “I’m Mike Harkness, boss o’ this here wagon train. This is my deputy, Wade Felton.”

“Pleased to meet you, gentlemen. I’m Walter Ames. This is my wife Rose, and Samson and Elijah, my teamsters. Would you like some coffee?”

After greetings were exchanged and coffee poured, Harkness got right to the point. “We’re in a spot of trouble. We gotta get that big boiler to Denver City. There’s a mine waitin’ to open a new, deeper level operation, an’ it needs the boiler to do it. You saw that wagon under it as we rode in?”

“Yeah,” Walt agreed. “My men say it won’t be going much further.”

“They’re right. I couldn’t help noticing you’ve got a strong-built wagon here, almost new too. I reckon it could carry maybe half the cargo of one of our heavy freight wagons. We could spread the other half across our other wagons; there’s space for it now that we’ve delivered some cargo here. That would free up one of our best wagons for the boiler. We can build a new cradle for it out of the wood from the old wagon, load it up, an’ make much better time the rest of the way. The team from the old wagon can pull the new one, while its team could pull yours. Would you be interested in selling? I’d pay you top price.”

Walt shook his head. “Wouldn’t work. Our wagon’s drawn by horses. You couldn’t harness the oxen from your wagon to our wagon’s tongue.”

“The tongue on the broken-down wagon’s still workin’ fine. We’d simply unbolt it from that one an’ attach it to yours, takin’ off your horse tongue, an’ lock an’ reinforce the front axle to handle the stronger pull.”

“And how would I get my goods to Denver City? That’s where we’re headed.”

“So are we. Your wagon ain’t heavily loaded. If you’d like to come with us, I can put some o’ your things in our wagons. You got that ambulance, too.”

Walt scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Trouble is, it’s pretty full already. A Rucker ambulance was never designed to carry cargo. Samson, Elijah, what do you think?”

Samson looked doubtful. “I dessay de ambulance take two, mebbe t’ree hundred pound more weight, but it ain’t got room for big t’ings inside.”

“I t’ink de same, suh,” Elijah agreed. “One t’ing, t’ough. You got de four hosses from your wagon team. Dey ain’t as strong as mules, but wid pack saddles dey could each carry up to a hundred pound or more.”

“Where would we get pack saddles?”

“Mistah Jones, he lef’ some of de pack saddles he got at Fort Riley at dis place, suh. He didden’ take dem all back wid him. Mebbe de captain here let you use some, if Mistah Harkness promise to bring dem back.”

“Maybe.” Walt thought for a moment. “Here’s what I’ll offer, Mr. Harkness. I paid three hundred dollars for that wagon. If you’ll pay me that amount, and also provide me with four pack saddles, with good thick pads to protect my horses’ backs, in exchange I’ll give you my wagon plus all its spares. We’ll load what we need on the journey into the ambulance and on our pack horses. You’ll load our bigger, heavier items into one of your wagons, and let us travel to Denver City with you. How does that sound?”

Harkness held out his hand. “Sounds like a deal to me, Mr. Ames. I don’t mind telling you, I need your wagon badly to make this work. I’ve got to get this shipment to Denver City intact, or Mr. Holladay will fire me. This is his first big shipment on the Smoky Hill Trail since he bought out Butterfield’s stage and freight line earlier this year.”

“I didn’t know Mr. Butterfield had sold out,” Walt confessed, surprised. “When did this happen?”

“Earlier this year. Wells Fargo’s talkin’ to Mr. Halladay about buyin’ all his stage an’ freight lines across the whole country. I guess he wanted to tie up this stretch too, so he could control all the routes across Kansas an’ get a better deal out of Wells Fargo.”

“I see. All right, when do we make the exchange?”

“I’ll talk to the captain first thing in the morning about those pack saddles. If he agrees to sell them to me, or let me borrow them until we come back this way, we’ll help you offload your wagon. With luck, we’ll be ready to roll in two days.”

They pulled out three days later, the boiler having taken longer to transship than Harkness had allowed for. Rose fled to the ambulance, blushing, as the teamsters trying to move the dead weight onto its new wagon let fly with volleys of blood-curdling oaths every time things went wrong. Still, they got it right in the end, and the stronger wagon and its newly-constructed cradle took the strain without any apparent difficulty.

Harkness briefed all his teamsters before they left Pond Creek. Walt, Samson and Elijah attended the meeting. “We’re gonna try to cover at least ten miles a day, twelve if we can,” the wagon boss warned everyone. “I know that’s pushin’ it with a big train like this, ’specially with slow ox teams. It’ll take us more’n an hour every day just to get all the wagons on the trail, an’ the same to get off the trail an’ fort up every afternoon. Still, we’ve lost at least six days all told over that damn boiler, so we’ve gotta crack on. With luck an’ good weather, we’ll reach Denver City in twenty days.

“You need to keep a careful watch all round, all the time. The Cheyenne are raidin’. We ain’t got many hosses compared to some trains, but they know we’ll have rifles, ammunition an’ other loot, an’ they can eat our oxen. If they can split the train into different sections, they’ll kill everyone in one section, steal all they can, drive off the oxen an’ burn the wagons. If you get cut off, it’ll take up to an hour for us to circle the other wagons. We can’t send some of our escort back to help you until we’ve done that, so keep closed up if you don’t want your hair on a Cheyenne scalp stick.”