Lauraine Snelling (12 page)

“Six. Rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Some of them were my father’s.” Wind Dancer had apparently decided the smell of blood was tolerable, since he’d settled down again.

Ransom said, “Micah went up to get Runs Like a Deer when we heard the rifle shots. We can hang both at the same time. Gretchen can start the supper warming, but it’ll be awhile before we get there for that.”

“It’s a good thing we weren’t depending on Lucas to bring home the liver.” Mavis turned to tease her son.

“Mor, even I miss sometimes.”

“Obviously.”

When she heard Chief audibly chuckle, Cassie almost fell off her horse.

Back at the barn, Micah and Runs Like a Deer were waiting. Ransom drove the wagon right in through the big doors.

Runs Like a Deer looked in the wagon as it passed and nodded. “Good.”

When Mavis explained that she and Cassie shot the two elk, Runs Like a Deer glanced at Lucas and raised an eyebrow. “Very good.” Her face betrayed a tiny twitch of a smile.

“Do you need us to help?” Mavis asked.

“Nope. There are plenty of hands here to do the job. But I sure am getting hungry.” Lucas dismounted and started pulling the saddle down off his mother’s horse. “I’ll take the horses back out to the pasture. You want to take Wind Dancer up to the cabin?”

“No. He can go back to the field. Thanks.” Cassie dismounted and walked into the barn to see Ransom and Chief already slitting the skin on the elks’ back legs and pushing a bar through, between bone and sinew. They attached the tackle that hung by pulleys from the rafters and, with Ransom pulling on the rope, raised the smaller elk right up off the wagon bed, letting it hang free. Runs Like a Deer lighted a lantern, giving Cassie’s elk a ghostly hue as it swayed slowly back and forth.

Mavis motioned. “Come on, Cassie. Let’s go help Gretchen get supper on the table. Half an hour?”

Lucas nodded. “About that. You want the intestines?”

“Yes. I’ll clean them tomorrow.”

The two walked up the rise to the ranch house. “That was some hunting trip,” Mavis commented. “I’m sure glad I went along.”

“Me too.”

“It might be a long time before we let Lucas off the hook. This might take his cockiness down a peg or two.”

He was entertaining. That was for sure. At least they weren’t going to go hungry and didn’t have to accept everything from the Engstroms. Cassie had to find a way to make enough money, to buy ammunition at least. Five dollars was all she had left, not taking into account the gold piece she had found during that first pawing search through the drawers. That was her absolutely-only-in-an-emergency backup.

Hopefully they wouldn’t have to use it.

N
ow if only the sawmill will start right up.

Once they’d finished breakfast, Ransom made sure all the tools they would need were in the wagon, and he headed to the sawmill set in the pine trees. Finally they would be able to get the sawmill going and begin cutting the timbers for the mine. He was driving the team up there, and Lucas was supposed to ride his horse in case they needed him to go back down for anything else.

Micah and Chief would be helping too. They could finish cutting off the branches while he and Lucas set up the mill. He should have asked Dan Arnett, the owner of the portable sawmill, to come over to supervise. The thought had come to him more than once, but he hadn’t gotten around to doing it. Like so many things in his life.

He could go over there now, but that would take a lot more time. The old man was quite a talker and age had slowed him down a lot. On the other hand, he probably would have loved a home-cooked meal. The thoughts went back and forth. He looked ahead to see Micah and Chief coming down the hill. Looking back, no Lucas was in sight. Probably finishing his last cup of coffee. When it had to do with something Ransom wanted him to do, he could always be late, sometimes Ransom referred to as
Lucas time
.

And Lucas was the one most familiar with the instructions on how to set up the mill. Ransom jogged the horses up to where the mill waited. He remembered helping his father when he cut the logs to build the smokehouse. Old Mr. Arnett wasn’t so old then; it was maybe ten years ago. They ripped a couple of pines into one-inch slabs, the width of the boards being whatever the width of the log might be. In fact, they still had a few pieces of that siding on a rack up in the barn. Well-seasoned by now. Sometimes he wished they had bought the sawmill when Arnett first had it for sale. If they had any money now, it could stay right where it was and they could log off some of the upper timber too. Maybe some oak. Sell it. His dreams nearly took off with him. They needed to do something to bring in more money. Maybe the sawmill was it.

“Morning.” He greeted the two men, who started taking tools out of the wagon.

“You want me to hobble the horses?” Micah asked.

Ever the animal handler, that fellow. “No thanks. We’ll be using them soon. You know anything about steam engines?”

“A little. You build the fire under the boiler and get up the steam that will do the work—turn the belts to run the sawmill, in this case.”

“You ever worked on one?”

“Just to fill the water tank and keep the fire burning. The show had a steam calliope for a while when I first started working for them, but I was new there and wasn’t supposed to mess with it. We could use the cut branches as part of the firewood.”

“I brought up some dry firewood. Easier to start. We’ll stack it near the boiler. Chief, you ever worked with a steam engine?”

“No. I took care of horses and wagons.”

“I thought Micah here was the animal handler.”

“Show that size took two people to keep up with all the stuff that broke. Lucas coming?”

“Said he was.” He never should have gone off and left him behind. Should know better by now. Castigating himself was easy. Leave it to Lucas to slow down the action. He paused, frowning. “So what happened to the calliope? Didn’t blow up, did it?”

“Owner lost it in a poker game. Drew a queen, shoulda been a king.”

“Mm.” Back to business. Ransom lifted a set of chains out of the wagon. “We’ll drag the trimmed trees down by wrapping these chains around them. Same way you’ll be pulling those trees out of the garden area by the cabin. Mor said Miss Lockwood is asking about a garden place for next spring.”

Since it didn’t look like Lucas would be coming anytime soon, Ransom looped the chains around the whippletree and let the horses drag them up to the trees.

“You wrap the choke chain around the tree and the other end around the whippletree. The team will drag it down. We’ll set up skids to get the logs up onto the saw bed. Roll the log up.”

“Sounds simple enough.” Micah unwrapped one of the chains and took it over to the end of the nearest log. He studied the log and the chain, nodded, and turned to Ransom. “That rod we used for packing the dirt around the posts?”

“In the wagon.”

“We can roll the log with that, I think.”

Ransom nodded. “Good idea, since we don’t have a peavey. Let’s do it.” Ransom retrieved the bar. Chief took the end of the chain with the hook, and together they got the chain around the log with Ransom planting the weighted steel rod and leveraging the log to get room to hook the chain solidly.

“Check it again. Nothing more dangerous than a broken chain.”

They looped the other end around the whippletree, and Ransom gathered up the lines. “Stand way back out of the way.” When the other two were well clear, he clucked the horses, and they leaned into their collars. The chain tightened, choking down on the log. Ransom flipped the lines and the horses dug in. The tree slid forward and they dragged it down a slight grade to the flat area parallel with the sawmill.

Ransom backed the horses a step to release the tension, and they removed the chain from the log. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ransom started the horses back up for a second log. They had skidded three logs down to lie side by side when Ransom saw two men riding across the pasture.
Well, look who’s coming
, he muttered to himself.
But who is with him?

“Sorry I’m late,” Lucas said, dismounting. “But I knew I didn’t know enough about that sawmill, so I went and got Arnett.”

“Good to see you,” Ransom said with a smile. Leave it to his brother to do something so perfect without telling anyone, and here he was ready to lay him out. “Thanks for coming. I figured I could handle moving the logs.”

The old man, with a twinkle in his eye, nodded. “You did a fine job, for a youngster. I see you had helpers.”

“Yes. Chief, Micah, meet one of our neighbors, Dan Arnett. He owns this sawmill and is going to tell us what to do.”

“Good to meet you.” Arnett nodded then turned to the machinery.

Half an hour later they had the boiler heating, the belts checked, oil in the right places, and knowledge of how the machine would work. With Arnett giving instructions, they finished setting up the rest of the gear, and by the time the sun stood straight overhead, the first log was heading into the spinning blade. With a mournful, drawn-out scream, the first side of slab wood fell off, and the milling had begun.

They stopped long enough to eat the meal Mavis brought to them, and then continued, log after log. The stack of six-by-sixes grew. The pile of slab wood grew, the pile of sawdust grew, and the number of trees on the ground diminished, as one by one they were skidded down to the mill, rolled up onto the platform, and turned into usable timbers.

They burned the dry wood that Ransom had brought up and many of the branches from the piles. Chief kept the fire stoked, while the others fed the whining blade. At the end of the day and the last log run through, they shut the mill down. The silence made Ransom blink.

“Mor will have supper ready. Let’s go eat.” Lucas and Arnett rode ahead. Ransom loaded the tools back into the wagon bed, and with Chief and Micah in the wagon too, he drove back to the ranch house.

When they’d washed and sat down at the table, with the women serving, Ransom gave the blessing, and they dug into the meal.

He glanced over. The old man was carefully, thoughtfully, working each bite around in his mouth, like a cow works its cud only much more thoroughly. A faint smile graced that grizzled old face, and it was obvious Dan Arnett needed to be with other people more often.

Ransom broke the silence. “Getting that done sure makes me wish we could cut some of those big trees above the cabin. Think what we could do with seasoned oak or maple. Pa made great furniture. I’d like to try my hand at that this winter.”

Mavis frowned, a questioning look. “Dan, how long does it take green wood to season down to furniture wood?”

“Depends.” He swallowed. “Two or three years should do it. In warm weather they cure faster than in cold weather, but on the other hand, felling trees this time of year takes a year off the drying, ’cause the sap’s all run down out of the trunk for the winter. Takes a lot longer for a log cut in spring when it’s fresh and sappy. Then your close-grain hardwoods will take longer’n softwoods, and oak and maple take longer’n alder or cottonwood. And you’ll want to rip the logs into planks less’n two inches thick. Then it’ll dry faster.”

“Besides,” Lucas added, “how can you work in the mine and make furniture too?”

“Don’t know, but it bears thinking about. Two or three years? You sure?”

“Long as you keep it under cover. Say, why can’t you just keep the sawmill awhile?” Arnett asked around a mouthful of potatoes and gravy. “I haven’t had a meal like this since the last time I was here. My own cookin’ ain’t too appetizing.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. You need to come here more often. Do you want to stay in the bunkhouse tonight, not ride home in the dark?” Mavis passed the serving platter of meat around again.

“That would be right fine, if’n it ain’t too much trouble. Workin’ with all these men for a change—that was some good time.” He speared himself a chunk with stuffing.

“Gretchen, I’m sorry we didn’t get to show you Wind Dancer’s tricks today,” Cassie said as she passed the platter. “Maybe we can do that tomorrow.” She and Runs Like a Deer had been helping with pickling the tongues and cleaning out the intestines of the elk to use as sausage casings, so the elk were probably pretty well processed. Mavis had stuffed and baked the hearts for supper.

“That’s okay. Maybe right after school tomorrow?”

Cassie nodded her assent.

Ransom glanced around the table. Everyone had been working together well, and look what all they had accomplished. He took another piece of the corn bread from the passing plate. “So you don’t mind if we keep the sawmill awhile longer?”

“Not a’tall. I’m getting too old to use it. Need to sell it, but there ain’t no one who wants it. You can use it, you keep it here. Maybe I could help you again, like today.”

“You want to go up and look at those other trees tomorrow?”

“Can’t hurt none.”

“Do you have any chores that need doing at home?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah. I’ll need to feed the chickens, make sure they got water, pick the eggs. Don’t have so many anymore. The chickens was Mabel’s doing. When they all die off, I won’t have chickens no more. And the dog needs to be fed. He usually gets table scraps, but this here meal, this here’s for old Arnett, not no dog.”

Lucas chuckled. “Tell you what. I’ll go by and take care of that for you tomorrow, and you and Ransom go up and look at the trees. I need to go into Hill City again anyway.”

Ransom looked from his mother to his brother. Was Lucas pursuing the shooting match idea? He’d not talked it over with Miss Lockwood yet. What if that wasn’t what she wanted to do? He thought about it only a moment. That was Lucas’s problem, not his.

“I was hoping we could get those trees pulled out of the garden spot up there tomorrow,” Mavis said with a smile at Cassie. “Since the team won’t be needed for the sawmill, maybe we can do that?”

Ransom shrugged. “We can get it started on our way up to the higher timber. Micah, you and Chief got anything planned?”

“To pull trees out, I guess,” Micah said. “And put those rails up on the posts. They should be set by now. Probably ought to wire them as well as nail them, in case one of the horses gets all excited.”

Ransom nodded. “That sawdust could be spread over the garden plot. It will help kill off the sod for the spring plow. When we clean out the chicken house, we can bring a load up to the garden. Also that old manure pile by the barn. Mor usually scatters that on our garden too.”

“And leaves from under some of those trees around you. We get all that dug in, and you’ll have a good start.” Mavis smiled at Cassie. “I have plenty of seeds saved. I left some carrots in the garden last year, and they went to seed, so I even have carrot seeds. As we eat the squash and pumpkins, I save the seeds from those too. And the last of the potatoes get cut up for planting as soon as the ground thaws.”

Ransom caught himself from adding anything else. What was going on here? He didn’t want Miss Lockwood to stay at all, yet here they were all talking like any family about things that needed doing for next spring. There was plenty of work in the garden down here. Why did they need to start another one?

“Thanks for all your help today,” he said to Chief and Micah when they were ready to take their wagon up to the cabin. “The extra hands made the milling go so much faster. You want to ride up to see the other trees, I’d be glad to show you another part of the ranch.”

Chief gave a nod. “Tomorrow.”

“Thank you for all the lessons today,” Cassie said to Mavis. “I learned so much . . . and want to learn more.”

When the others had left, Ransom turned to the old man. “Come on, I’ll show you where things are in the bunkhouse. We’ll get a fire going in there, and you should be comfortable. Your horse will be fine with the rest of ours.”