it.”
Would love come to Rebecca?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The two night herders rode in a circle about twenty yards outside the sleeping cattle, and by riding in opposite directions were able to keep the cattle under constant observation. The horses caught on quickly to the routine, and would continue their route even if, as often happened, the rider would fall asleep in the saddle. Each time the riders met, they would speak to make certain the other was awake, and also to calm the cows, knowing that they were being protected against any kind of night predators.
If a rider didn’t fall asleep, then these long, quiet hours in the middle of the night were perfect for reflection. And that is exactly what Tom was doing.
It had been nine months since he came to work at Live Oaks. At first he intended it to be temporary—just until the scars on his soul were healed. Ranching was certainly unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and while it didn’t quite live up to the romanticism of the printed word—he had never read about anyone having to muck out stables, or pull cows from mud bogs—he found the physical labor therapeutic.
He also liked the men that he worked with. What they lacked in education, polish, and sophistication was more than made up for by their sense of honor and horse sense.
He laughed at a definition of horse sense he had heard. “Horse sense means that horses have more sense than to bet on a man.”
He wondered what his father would think if he could see him now, riding a horse around a herd of cows in the middle of the night, dressed in denim and sheepskin, wearing a pistol on his hip and carrying a rifle in a saddle- sheath.
“Are you awake, Tom?” Dalton called, as he passed Tom on their circuit.
“How can I sleep with you yelling at me every fifteen minutes?” Tom replied.
Dalton laughed as he rode on by. Tom continued his own circuit.
From the
REVERSE CATTLE DRIVE.
Our fair city has long been the destination for cattle herds coming north from Texas. But now we are the point of origin for a herd going to Texas. Mr. Benjamin Conyers, a Texas Cowman, has declared his intention to stop raising Longhorns, supplanting those noble creatures with a breed but recently introduced to the United States.
The breed has been raised with some success in Missouri, but this experiment will be new to Texas. The breed is the Black Angus, a cow that is, as its name implies, coal black in color. It is also unique in that it is a cow without horns.
Brought to America from Scotland, the beef it produces is said to be superior in every measure, and they are far more valuable than Longhorns. The Black Angus brings 17 dollars a head in Kansas City, 30 dollars a head in Chicago, and 60 dollars a head in New York.
Mr. Conyers’ herd of two thousand five hundred cows is making a rare winter drive from Dodge City to Ft. Worth, Texas. Having gotten underway on the 20th of this month, it is anticipated to reach Ft. Worth before Christmas.
Red Coleman was in the Lucky Chance Saloon in Dodge City. After the failure of his first attempt to steal one fourth of the herd by taking the train the cows were on, he was determined to make another try. And because he knew the herd would be coming to Dodge City, he returned to Lajunta, then took the next train east.
He arrived the day after the herd had departed Dodge City, heading south. The story of the “Reverse Herd,” so-called because rather than a herd being brought to Dodge, this herd was leaving Dodge, made the front page of the newspaper. Despite that, the story that was on the lips of everyone in town was about Frank Lovejoy being killed. It was the subject of every discussion in the Lucky Chance.
The man who killed Lovejoy was Matt Jensen. Red didn’t know what the relationship was between Matt and Smoke Jensen, but he didn’t care. He knew he was on Smoke Jensen’s trail.
“I can tell you right now,” one of the saloon patrons said. “There ain’t no way Seth Lovejoy is goin’ to let that feller get away with killin’ Frank.”
“What’s he goin’ to do about it? It was a fair fight. Ever’ one who saw it says that. Besides which, they done held the trial and found the man that kilt Frank innocent.”
“That weren’t no trial, that weren’t nothin’ but an inquiry,” the first patron said. “But it don’t make no difference anyhow. You mark my words, Seth Lovejoy is goin’ to set things right. Leastwise, by his own accounting, he is.”
“How is he going to do that? The man that kilt Frank is a cowboy with that herd of cows that just went south. Hell, he ain’t even in town no more.”
“I don’t have any idea how he’s goin’ to do it. All I’m sayin’ is, he’s goin’ to do it.”
That wasn’t news that Red Coleman wanted to hear. If this man Lovejoy hit the herd while they were going south, he could mess up the entire deal.
“Who is this fella Lovejoy they are talking about?” Red asked one of the other patrons of the saloon.
“He owns the Back Trail Ranch. He’s about the richest man in all of Ford County, and you bein’ new here an’ all, prob’ly don’t know that his boy was kilt here a few days ago by some cowboy that’s takin’ a herd down to Texas.”
“Yes, I read about the trail drive in the newspaper,” Red said. “You think this Lovejoy man might try and rustle their cattle?”
“Rustle their cattle? Nah, why would he want to do that? He’s got more money than he can count now. Like as not, all he wants to do is get even with this Matt Jensen fella that kilt his boy.”
“Is Matt Jensen fast?” Red asked.
“About as fast as it takes a lightning bolt to get from the sky to the ground,” the man said. “Only here’s the thing. There’s a couple of other men with that herd, Smoke Jensen and Falcon MacCallister, that they say is just as fast, or maybe faster.”
Billy Lovejoy was sitting at a table with Candy, having paid enough to buy her company for as long as he wanted it. He had been following the discussion with increasing agitation.
“It is almost like they want Pa to go after that cowboy,” Billy said.
“He won’t, will he, Billy?” Candy asked.
“I don’t know,” Billy answered. “I’m afraid he will. He was really upset by the way the hearing turned out.”
“But you were here that night,” Candy said. “You saw it just like the rest of us did. You know that the hearing did the right thing by saying he was innocent.”
“Yes, I saw it,” Billy said. “But Pa didn’t see it, and Doyle and the others who did see it are telling him just what he wants to hear.”
“Why don’t you tell him what really happened?”
“I have tried, but he doesn’t listen to me,” Billy said. “And the truth is, even if he had seen it with his own eyes, he would still believe what he wanted to believe. Frank could do no wrong, as far as Pa was concerned.”
When Billy Lovejoy got home that night, he saw his father sitting in the big leather chair in his parlor and staring at the burning logs in his fireplace. Seth Lovejoy had been drinking, almost non-stop, for the last three days. He was inebriated, but not the kind of staggering, fall-down, speech-slurring drunk one might expect. Instead it was a slow-mounting anger that ate at his soul.
