“She’s dead, child,” Oscar said, sobbing as he told her. “The light of my life is dead.”
A cold, dry wind whipped through the cemetery as nearly one hundred people gathered for Janie’s funeral. The coffin lay on the edge of the already opened grave, and Oscar stood beside it with his hand resting on the gleaming rosewood. His head was bowed, whether in prayer or grief, Rebecca didn’t know.
Rebecca had never actually known her mother until this past few months, and though she had grown close to her, the truth was that, in her mind, Julia was, always had been, and always would be her mother. But she had come to appreciate Janie, even finding it easier than she thought to call her “Mama.” She was saddened by Janie’s death, but had to confess that her grief didn’t match Oscar’s.
Most of the mourners were the men who frequented the Lucky Chance Saloon, and they stood in little clumps around the grave, a few of them coming over to mumble something to Rebecca before stepping up to Oscar to reach out and touch him. They were obviously uncomfortable around a weeping man, feeling powerless to help assuage his grief. Candy, Kate, and Rena were there as well, not dressed as they did when they greeted the customers, but as modestly as any schoolmarm.
All three of the girls had been solicitous of Rebecca, but even more so toward Oscar, whose grief was almost inconsolable.
There had not been a church service, but the Reverend T.J. Boyd volunteered to say a few words at the committal. Tall and thin, his nose was red in the cold wind as he stood looking out over the mourners.
“As I look out over those gathered here, I am reminded that I have never seen any of you in church, and that means that your souls are in peril.” He pointed to the coffin. “It is too late for this poor woman, who even now, is writhing in the agony of hell’s eternal fire. But it isn’t too late for all of you. Leave the saloons, the whorehouses, the dens of iniquity, and repent. Accept our Savior Jesus Christ and be born again, or you, like this poor miserable wretch, will burn in hell for eternity.”
The Reverend T.J. Boyd raised his right hand high in the air, his index finger pointed to heaven as his oratory rose to a pitch. “I ask you now to open your heart and accept ...”
That was as far as he got before Oscar laid him out with a hard uppercut to the preacher’s chin. Then something happened at a graveside interment that had never happened before. The mourners broke out into a loud, rousing cheer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It took three trains of thirty cars each to transport Duff MacCallister’s fifteen hundred cows from Cheyenne to Denver. Duff and Meghan were on the lead train, Elmer took the second train, and Falcon had the trailing train.
Smoke, Sally, and Matt had already brought their cattle, and Smoke had made arrangements for holding pens where the cattle would wait until they could be moved to Dodge City.
Smoke, Sally, and Matt were waiting on the platform as the trains arrived.
“Duff, you have met Sally, but I don’t think you have met this gentleman. This is Matt Jensen,” Smoke said, introducing the young man with him.
Duff shook hands with Matt, who was also greeted by Falcon, who already knew him.
“This is my partner, Meghan Parker,” Duff said, introducing the attractive young woman who was with him. “And this is my ranch foreman, Elmer Gleason.”
“Very good to meet you, Meghan,” Sally said. “Will you be coming along on the drive?”
“No,” Meghan answered. “I would love to, but I have a dress shop business to run back in Chugwater. And with the approach of the Christmas season, I can’t afford to be gone. Elmer and I will be going back tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m going, and it would be nice to have another woman along as company. But at least we will have your company tonight.”
“Any trouble with the drive to Cheyenne?” Smoke asked.
“Nae a bit o’ trouble,” Duff replied. “Sure ’n the cows moved along as if they were the Black Watch on parade.”
“If they are like this from Dodge all the way down to Fort Worth, I don’t think we’ll have a bit of trouble,” Falcon added. “They trail as easy as Longhorns, if not easier.”
The loading pen manager came up to the group then. “Any of you fellows in charge of the cattle that just came in on this train?”
“Aye, that would be me,” Duff said.
“What do you want done with them?”
“Here you go, Mr. Dawes,” Smoke said, handing the manager a sheet of paper. “You can put those cattle in with mine. I have the holding pens reserved through Thursday.”
Dawes looked at the paper and nodded.
“All right, I’ll get them off-loaded.”
“Thank you,” Smoke said. Then to the others, “I have four trains scheduled. We’ll ship the cows to Dodge, then all we have to do is drive the cows from Dodge City down to Fort Worth.”
“All we have to do?” Falcon asked with a smile. “You have any idea how far that is?”
“Four hundred and fifty miles,” Smoke said. “Figure on making fifteen miles a day, it’ll take us just about thirty days. We should be there just before Christmas.”
“That’s pretty ambitious, considering the weather,” Falcon said. “Don’t forget, most cattle drives are in the summertime. This is a wintertime drive. We aren’t only going to have the weather to worry about, we are going to have to worry about finding enough grass to keep the herd fed.”
“I know,” Smoke replied. “And I’ve discovered since I started running them, that Angus eat a lot more grass than Longhorns, or even Herefords.”
“We’ll do it,” Duff said. “We don’t have any choice but to do it.”
“What do you we say we go to the hotel now, get a good supper and get you checked in.”
After taking rooms at the hotel, they met up again in the hotel restaurant. There, they were met by Smoke’s two principal hands, Pearlie and Cal. There was a large round table set for nine, eight plates of which were clean. Cal had already started eating, and he stood up with a mouth full of food, chewing it quickly to avoid having to talk with his mouth full.
“Cal, I’m glad you waited on the rest of us,” Smoke said, and the others laughed.
“I did wait,” Cal said. “I just decided to have a little something to eat while I was waiting to eat.”
Smoke chuckled. “Damn, if you all knew Cal the way I do, you would know that, that almost makes sense.”
“Duff, this is my foreman Pearlie,” Smoke introduced. “And the young man with a face full of food is Cal.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Cal mumbled around food, not yet swallowed.
When the introductions were completed they sat at the table, and after ordering their meals, began talking about the upcoming adventure.
“So, Sally, is this really the Christmas trip that Smoke promised you?” Falcon teased.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Sally said.
“There you go, Matt,” Falcon said. “If you ever get married, you need to find a woman just like Sally.”
“There isn’t anyone else like Sally,” Matt said, “if so, I would have found her and married her long ago.”
Sally beamed under the compliment. “Why thank you, Matt. I appreciate that,” she said. “But I’m sure that some fine day, someone is going to say the same thing about Meghan.”
Everyone around the table looked at Meghan and Duff who smiled, but made no incriminating response.
“Oh, here is something you might appreciate,” Smoke said. “I have ordered a private car to be attached to
