North to the Salt Fork (13 page)

“Hard work, that mustanging, but I wish you luck.” McIntyre didn't sound or look enthused about the prospect.

“Ain't much easy in life.” Jack laughed.

He went over and untied the lead to move the horse, Red, over in the shade. The sorrel reared up, but Jack talked softly to the gelding, slowly working on the rope. Lots of white showed around Red's eyes, and when he finally laid his palm on the pony's neck, he trembled all over.

“Easy. Easy,” Jack kept saying, trying to prove he wasn't a threat. After some time he won a very shaky truce, hitched the horse and started with a rasp on the gelding's front hooves.

“Most important part.” He demonstrated to his student, who leaned over on the keg to watch him. “Get the hoof down to size; it'll need to be flat when he strikes the ground.”

As the lesson went on and his confidence rose, Luke asked more and more questions. After some struggling on the hind ones, Jack had all four hooves shaped and began shoe fitting.

“I think I can do it better when I get off these sticks.”

“There ain't no rush. We'll do a few more together before you tackle one by yourself.”

“Thanks, Jack. You know, Dad used to take me everywhere with him, but I was younger then and sure never learned much.”

“Don't regret that. They must've been fun days.” He was clipping the last nails on the final hoof.

“They were, but there was so much I had to learn on my own after Dad passed on; Maw didn't know much about men's work either, so it was tough on me. I guess we expected him to be there forever.”

Before Jack could answer, McIntyre came back with a bucket of cool water and a gourd dipper for them. “Time for a break.” He watched Jack carefully as he dipped the gourd in the clear water. “So they tell me you got beat up a few days ago at the saloon in Shedville?” he finally said.

“I guess I didn't belong there.”

“We ought to hitch up some mules and pull that damn saloon down. The bunch that hangs there needs to move on to San Antonio.”

Jack agreed. There was a lot he needed to know about local politics. For instance, how did Hiram Sawyer get to be such a banker? There was no law except in San Antonio, seventy miles east, not counting the ranger outfits, which were mostly for defense against the Comanches. Since no county had been carved out of the vast region except Mason, the rest of the land came under Bexar County jurisdiction until the legislature met again. But when that finally happened they'd need a county seat and a population to support it. That would be a while off, he realized, as he drove back with Luke to the ranch.

Before he left, McIntyre hadn't missed the chance to ask him about making the cattle drive the following spring. Jack had given him the same answer he'd given the rest. He'd think on it, but he didn't want them to pass up the chance to hire a good man.

“Reckon they've got that dress made?” Luke asked as they headed downhill in the wagon toward the house, which was darkly outlined against the setting sun.

“I bet they'll have it done in time for the wedding.”

He knew Lucy would see to it. There was nothing more important to them than becoming husband and wife.

Lucy made a striking bride. Her hair was pinned up. The white silk dress would have done well at a Washington D.C. gala. Jack couldn't recall seeing as many red faces at once as there were in that hot schoolhouse, all looking at Jack and Lucy in anticipation. The place bulged at the seams with people. One of the townsmen played a small accordion while Luke, on crutches, brought his mom down the aisle from the back of the room to give her away. In his starched white shirt and tie, the young man looked awfully grown up to Jack as he watched him swing across the floor on his sticks.

Jangles, his best man, stood to the side with Jack and held a small surprise the two of them had concealed. When Preacher Teck came to the part of the ceremony about the exchange of rings, Lucy raised her eyebrows a quarter of an inch, not expecting the matter to be brought up since they hadn't purchased any.

“Here, sir,” Jangles said, stepping in to hand the preacher a folded linen handkerchief that nested a gold ring.

A smile grew at the corners of her mouth at the sight of it. “My grandmother's,” Jack whispered, and slipped it on her finger.

She nodded, speechless. Jack was afraid she was going to cry.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Preacher Teck said with a smile. “You may kiss the bride.”

And he did.

He knew one thing: his grandma Starr would've been proud of Lucy Starr, same as she'd been of every other child in her grannyhood. He could feel the little old lady's blue eyes looking down from heaven at him. “It's about time you got married, Jacky boy
,
” she'd say.

 

For their honeymoon lodging, the newlyweds used a tent that Lucy had borrowed from Sister. After the wedding they drove up to Willow Springs with a light buckboard and team that Jangles had borrowed from his uncle for the event. The day before the rangers had gone up and set up the tent for them. There was a large supply of chopped wood and a grub box full enough to last them a month.

Sometime past midnight Jack awoke to the sounds of the horses acting restless, as if there was a disturbance in the meadow.

“What is it?” Lucy asked, turning over and clutching his shoulder.

“I'm not sure,” he whispered. “Something is upsetting the horses. Could be a bear. You stay here.”

“You be careful. It could be Comanches.”

He slipped on his pants and socks. Straining to detect any recognizable noises, he finished pulling on his foot gear and scrambled to his feet. He handed her the rifle, just in case, and with a nod he left her sitting in her new nightgown atop the pallet.

The night sky was pricked with stars, and a quarter moon cast a pearly light on the meadow. From his vantage point, he could see the two horses' silhouettes; they were looking south at something. When he turned to look, he couldn't make out anything but a dark curtain of trees. Still the team kept snorting as if they were upset. Even if it was just a bear, the horses' behavior was enough to convince Jack. He ducked back inside and exchanged his six-shooter with the rifle he gave Lucy.

“Did you see anything?” she whispered.

“Not what those ponies are seeing or smelling. But there's something out there.”

Outdoors again, he used the shadowy edge of the trees to move in the direction of the team, who still held their vigil on the intruder—or intruders. Trust a horse to see and know a man's enemies before he even saw them. He put a lot of stock in that adage.

He dried his palm on the side of his pants leg, despite the night's coolness. He halted and knelt, hoping for a better view of whatever had interrupted his sleep. In a few moments he heard voices whispering.

“That ain't his gray out there. Them's some kind of light draft horses. Ain't worth nothing.”

“Shut up!” The other man lowered his voice. “. . . he'll hear you.”

“Waste of our damn time—”

“Let's get the hell out of here, then.”

He didn't recognize either voice; they were too far away and hidden in the trees. On his feet he moved closer to where he thought the voices were coming from, skirting the cedar boughs, but he could hear them already retreating up the hills as dislodged stones rolled down the hillsides. Chances were good he'd never know who they were. One thing was for certain: they wanted his gray horse. It was strange that he'd been targeted twice recently. First two hombres had beaten him up for no apparent reason in a public saloon. Then two hoots rode clear into the middle of nowhere to steal his gray horse and made enough commotion to wake him in the process.

He walked back to the tent. Lucy rushed out in her new nightgown and hugged him, her face pale with worry.

“I'm so glad you're alright.” She nestled her face into his bare chest. “I was so worried.”

“I'm fine,” he reassured her. “They rode off.”

“Who were they?”

“Damned if I know, but I heard them say they wanted to steal my gray horse. Seems like they left Jangles' uncle's team alone.”

She peered off in the night just to be certain.

He kissed her to reassure her once more. “They rode off. Let's go back to bed.”

She cast one last look down the starlit meadow to check for them, then swung her arm around his waist and headed back. “Yes, yes, let's.”

 

The next morning when he looked around he found nothing but cigarette butts on the ground. They must have sat and looked over the scene for some time. What would they have done with the gray? There was no way to sell him in the area, because folks would recognize him. It didn't make sense. He followed the tracks in the brush but found no more evidence of them.

 

The week flew by and on Friday Jack and Lucy packed up to return to the ranch. On the spring seat with all their gear loaded on the rig, he looked over the valley as they rode on, admiring the rich, green meadows and the tall cedars.

“Nice place to get away,” he remarked.

“You don't regret anything?” she asked, hugging his arm.

“Regret? I'm ecstatic to have you for a wife.”

“You remind yourself of that if our marriage ever turns sour,” she joked.

“And you, Mrs. Starr? Any regrets?”

She shook her head firmly. “I feel younger than I have in years. I just can't believe I found . . .” she trailed off, trying to hold back tears.

He hugged her with his right arm. “Don't cry.”

She used a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. “Oh, I just never thought I'd have another chance to find this.”

He smiled broadly. “I'll try to make you feel that way for the rest of our lives.”

“I hope I do.”

He kissed her. Maybe he hadn't wasted his whole life after all. The dreamy experience of the honeymoon had suspended him in another world and he wasn't at all eager to get back to reality.

In the late afternoon, they descended the hill, dogs barking and the kids in the yard awaiting their arrival. He chuckled. “Reckon they'll be on us for coming home late.”

“Oh, I hope not,” she said, a wrinkle of worry creasing her forehead.

He laughed. “Who cares. Sometimes a man needs a little time alone with his wife.”

The D-T ranch headquarters bustled with activity early that morning as the mustangers prepared to leave, just a few days after Jack and Lucy's honeymoon. Jangles had borrowed a team of mules and a farm wagon from a neighboring rancher to haul their things. Jack realized the two mules were only half broken, which must've been the reason why the rancher was all too eager to loan them out. Driving them required a rider on each side with a lead rope tied hard and fast to keep the mules on the road and prevent them from running away. But it was no big job for a ranger and it was easier than using team horses, which required more work to load and unload than a wagon.

“When will you be back?” Lucy asked, clinging to him.

“Two weeks,” Jack said. “I hope we have a string of them by then.”

“So do I. You and those boys be careful. Wild horses could hurt you.”

He agreed to be careful for the hundredth time, kissed her good-bye and left. By sundown they were at their base camp near the horse traps he'd found on his trip with Lucy.

 

Long past dark they finished eating and were getting ready to climb into their bedrolls. Jangles stopped and listened to the sounds of the night in the campfire light.

“You reckon a man could ever break that blue roan stallion that runs with a band of mares up here? I've seen him twice or so.”

“Jangles, you want him, we'll get him,” Jack said.

“I ain't a great horse breaker, Cap'n.”

“Only way to learn is to do it. We'll all help you.”

“Dang, so
that's
what your friends are for,” Jangles said with a grin.

“Who said we was your friends?” Cotton asked from his bedroll, and pulled the light cover over his shoulder. The rest of them laughed.

 

The first day went smoothly. They drove a few mustangs in, led by an old branded horse. A good set of wild males followed him into the repaired pens. Standing at the closed gate, Jack looked over the catch. There were probably a half dozen in the trap they could turn into saddle horses.

He left them in the pen for the night and went to camp, where Cotton was getting supper ready. They could sort out the ones they planned to keep in the morning. With no time for dinner at midday, he figured the boys were starving. Amused, he found that Arnold and Jangles were trying to hurry along the cook.