Prarie Fire Part 14

"She's going to lead this drive," Devlin said. "We don't have any steers who've made the trip before. As cantankerous as she is with me, Anabelle's the most unflappable longhorn I've ever met. I figure since she's the size of a buffalo, the herd will follow her anywhere."

"But what will you do with her when you come home?"

"Hank, Alejandro, and some of the other men said they'd herd her back since Matt and I will be traveling by train. They'll take care of her at the stockyards until we decide what to do here."

"Okay, but don't get mad at her halfway there and sell her off," Sarah said in a warning tone.

Devlin grinned wickedly at the woman leaving the corral. "That all depends on how much fuss she causes me between here and Abilene." She laughed as Anabelle snorted and grumbled low in her throat.

Later, when Devlin finally stood in the back of the buckboard wagon to speak to the men, she had to swallow down a bit of nerves. Sitting on the fences and generally milling about were all the men involved in the drive. She had a foreman, cook, wrangler, and nighthawk for each of the fifteen herds. In addition, there were a total of two hundred twenty-five riders. Although Devlin had personally hired every one of the men before her, she wanted one last chance to speak to the group that she'd be riding with on the trail. Sarah stood on the front porch, along with Cordelia Henley and a number of the other ranch owners.

"You all know me and what I'm about. You know what I can do, too. I don't tolerate laziness and I make quick work of troublemakers." She didn't have to explain the last statement. Any number of men quickly glanced at the gleaming six-shooters resting on each hip and understood her meaning.

"As you probably guessed, this is one of the biggest herds to ever hit the trail. It's going to take a h.e.l.l of a lot of work to make it to Abilene with them, but I don't have to tell most of you that. We've got some fifty thousand beeves out there. I've split them up into fifteen herds. You already know I'm the trail boss, but each herd's got a foreman who reports directly to me. When I'm not there, your foreman speaks for me. Each herd has also got a cook and two wagons. I happen to know a few of those chuck wagon cooks myself and they'll cook you up grub so good you won't even miss home. Of course, if any of 'em aren't so good, I sure ain't gonna be the one to tell 'em." Devlin chuckled and the group of men laughed heartily. It was well-known that even if a trail cook's biscuits were as hard as lead, eating hard biscuits was better than eating none at all.

"I plan on driving the herd pretty hard the first few days. I'm hoping that will tire them some by nightfall. They should be road broke in about three days' time. Remember, we're taking a mixed herd, not just steers, so we might end up with late calves. I don't want to hear of anyone shooting them in the mornings. We've got plenty of wagons, so if they can't keep up, toss them in a blattin' cart till the noon stop and do the same thing for the afternoon run. Try to keep your herd from widening too much, no more than a hundred feet across. Last thing, every rider gets his wages, forty dollars a month, plus a bonus when we get the beeves to Abilene. Anybody here have questions about what's expected of him?"

The group was silent as Devlin looked them over. "Then I suggest you make your way to your camps and settle in for the night. No music, no liquor. We start work at sunrise."

There were a few yee-haws from a couple of the Texans in the group, but the men were generally quiet as they headed for their a.s.signed herds. Devlin accepted congratulations and good wishes from the ranch owners until she and Sarah finally found themselves alone on the front porch.

"Matt, come on over here," Devlin called.

Sarah put her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Dev and I got you something special for your birthday."

Devlin whistled through her teeth and Hank led a muscular sorrel quarterhorse from the barn. Matt's eyes lit up when he saw the mare and he rushed toward Hank and the animal.

"Mine?" He turned to look at Sarah and Devlin.

"All yours, son," Sarah said. "Her name is Smokin' Molly. Although I don't want to know why they gave her that name."

Matt looked the horse over, stopping to give her a scratch under the chin. "Dev, why's her saddle have a double cinch on it? I've never seen one like that before."

"Well," Devlin began with a look at Sarah. Sarah nodded and Devlin continued. "When a wrangler ropes a horse, he ties off his lariat to the saddle horn. 'Course, some of those horses are barely broke, so they still pull plenty hard. The double cinch on the saddle keeps 'em from pulling your saddle clean off your mount. I'm going to be pretty busy on this drive. Don't think I'll have time to be pullin' you out of every p.r.i.c.kly pear patch between here and Abilene."

It took Matt a moment to grasp Devlin's words. "For real?"

"For real."

Matt rushed forward and threw his arms around Devlin, which surprised Sarah as much as Devlin. After a moment's hesitation, Devlin returned the boy's affection wholeheartedly.

"Oh, yeah, thanks, Mom, for letting me go." Sarah, unable to keep from teasing, stood with her arms folded across her chest watching the unexpected display.

Matt looked at Sarah with the same sheepish grin that Devlin usually wore. He gave his mother the same hug.

"Oh, yeah, thanks, Mom," he teased back.

Sarah realized Matt was nearly as tall as she was. It seemed like such a short time before that she'd been at least two inches taller. She smiled and stood on the first step of the porch. "There, that's better." She smiled and put her arms around Matt's neck. She kept the tears from streaming down her face, but she wasn't able to keep them from forming in her eyes. "Okay, no growing taller than your mother."

"I'll see what I can do about that, Mom." Matthew laughed.

Sarah's face grew serious. "It's dangerous business out on the trail. You have to promise me that you'll do everything Dev tells you, exactly as she tells you."

"I promise. Don't cry, Mom."

"She'll be all right." Devlin stepped up behind Sarah.

Sarah looked up into Devlin's gentle blue eyes. "Dev's right. I'll be fine." She took a deep breath and smiled. "You better find out what you'll need to bring and where you need to be tonight. Sunup will come quicker than you think."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hank's in the barn," Devlin said. "He'll be the foreman in our herd. He'll tell you enough to get you started and I'll sit down with you tonight. Okay?"

"Sure thing, Dev." Matt started to run toward the barn but turned back. "I mean, boss," he added with a grin.

"Come on." Devlin put her arm around Sarah and started toward the house.

"Where are we headed?"

"I'm going to take a very hot bath and I was hoping you'd join me in our very soft bed," Devlin said in a low voice.

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Yep." Devlin pulled Sarah closer and whispered in her ear. "It's going to be quite some time before I get to see either of them again, and I want to make tonight count."

Sarah smiled. "You promised to meet with Matt later this evening," she reminded.

"Yes, but that leaves an entire afternoon free." Devlin turned a sultry smile on Sarah.

"I like the way you think. Let me check on Hannah."

After the two women ducked their heads into Hannah's room and a.s.sured themselves that the child was sound asleep, they made their way, arm in arm, toward their own room.

"Promise me one thing, Dev." Sarah walked with her head on Devlin's shoulder.

"Anything, sachu-kash."

"Promise me that even when our lives are filled with chaos and time is pulling us in fifty different directions, like it is now, promise me that we'll always make time for things like this."

"This?"

"You know, stopping in the middle of the day to...to be together. To make love," Sarah admitted with a blush.

Devlin paused to run her fingers along Sarah's cheek. "I think," she reached out with her other hand to close and lock the bedroom door, "that will be the easiest oath in the world to keep. I promise," she whispered just before her lips met Sarah's in a kiss filled with a lifetime of such promises kept.

When the sun rose over the eastern horizon, antic.i.p.ation dawned along with the new day. Even riders who were seasoned drovers felt the energy in the air. The cattle had been grazing for about two hours and Devlin took one last ride back to the ranch house before setting out.

"I was hoping you'd get back one more time," Sarah said. She stood on her toes to wrap her arms tightly around Devlin's neck. "I love you, Dev."

"I love you, too, sachu-kash. Besides," Devlin bent down and scooped up Hannah who tugged at her pants leg, "how could I leave without saying goodbye to my two best girls, huh?"

"I'll miss you and I will be sad with you gone, Dev." Hannah pouted.

"I'll miss you, too, Princess," Devlin said with a catch in her voice. "I'll need you to help your mom not be so sad."

"Will you be sad, too, Mama?"

"Yes, sweetheart." Sarah met Devlin's eyes. "I'll be sad, too."

"Then I will help." Hannah smiled.

Devlin chuckled and shifted the girl into one arm, wrapping the other around Sarah's shoulders. "I want you to try and behave for your mama, okay?"

"Okay, I'll try, Dev, but it's hard sometimes."

"I know, Princess, but as long as you try," Devlin winked at Sarah, "then I'll be happy."

"'Kay. I love you, Dev." Hannah hugged Devlin's neck.

It took everything Devlin had not to break down at the girl's display of emotion. Devlin knew she would think of this later as the first time she'd actually felt like a part of this family. "I love you, too, Princess." She returned the strong embrace. "Now you run up to the porch. It'll take us almost all day to leave, so if you sit in the swing there, you'll be able to see everything. Okay?"

Hannah offered an enthusiastic smile and ran to the porch swing as fast as her six-year-old legs would carry her.

"Don't you even think of not coming back home to me, Devlin." Sarah tugged on Devlin's leather vest.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Devlin said. "My heart will be with you, Sa, remember that. I'll always be watching out for you wherever you are." She held Sarah tighter and whispered into her ear. "Remember that I am Redhawk. I can float on the air and see for miles. Wherever your path leads, I'll be there alongside you. When you need me, sachu-kash, I'll be there."

Sarah nodded, fighting back tears. "If you don't go this minute, I'm not going to let you leave at all. I love you, tashka."

Devlin smiled and held Sarah closer. She kissed her once, but it was filled with a fierce intensity. Just as the first kiss they shared, standing in town in the rain, had brought them together, so this kiss reinforced that relationship. Each woman felt the arms of eternity embrace her as she looked into a future filled with a lifetime of the other by her side.

Chapter 12.

"Line 'em up!" Devlin shouted back to Hank and the point men, who in turn pa.s.sed the word along.

The swing men on the side of each herd shouted back to the flank men near the rear, and they alerted the drag men, who rode last and ate most of the dust from the trail. For the first week, extra riders would accompany them. The extra hands would then turn back once the herd was trail broke.

Devlin had ordered each foreman not to start his herd out until the tail end of the herd in front of him had been gone at least a quarter of an hour. She planned to move them fast at first. It would move the beeves away from their customary ranges and serve to tire the animals out until they were road broke. They'd be more tired at night and less likely to spook easily. Fifteen minutes could put a decent bit of distance between herds. She'd never trailed a drive this size, but she expected their herds would spread out for at least ten to fifteen miles, a fair piece on the prairie.

Yells, shouts, whistles, and the crack of cow whips filled the early morning air. Devlin had encouraged most of the riders to learn to use the whips as opposed to their six-guns for rousing the cattle. She knew it would cut down on accidents and save ammunition. Many men she rode with used their guns too often. Her personal feeling was that it made it all that much easier for the rider to draw his gun on another man when disagreements arose.

Once the herds were moving, Devlin circled back to check on Matthew. He concentrated so much on the task before him that he never saw Devlin far off to one side watching him. His only task while the cattle herd moved was to drive the remuda, the herd of all their spare horses, two extra for each man. Devlin had hired a wrangler for each of the fifteen herds, knowing it would be a difficult job. Matt and his own horse worked well together, considering they only had one day to get to know each other. Devlin watched a few moments longer before heading to the nearest chuck wagon.

A team of four mules pulled the chuck wagon. As opposed to a farmer's wagon, the chuck wagons had wide wheels for better traction in open country. The wagon had bows over it, to which a canvas sheet could be tied to keep out the sun or bad weather. Since there hadn't been a drop of rain in a long while, the cook had packed the canvas away in the bed of the wagon.

Mexican Bob was the cook in Devlin's herd. Devlin was no fool; she liked good food and Bob had been a cook with Art Winston's trail drives. She'd heard Art say once that "Bob made biscuits so light, if he didn't put blueberries in 'em, the mosquitoes'd carry 'em off." Like other cooks, Bob made the rules around the chuck wagon, and even Devlin wasn't foolish enough to get on his bad side.

"Bob, I want to try to get a few miles away from the Was.h.i.ta before we break for dinner at noon. We can cross the river and go another six miles before we camp for supper. Have your nighthawk pa.s.s the word to the foremen and the other wagons."

"Okay, boss."

Devlin turned away from the moving wagon. She would have to get used to the men calling her boss. Whether they were serious or having fun, she was the trail boss and that meant that no one did anything without her approval. It was her job to ride ahead, scout out the best route, and intercept any possible trouble the herd might encounter. She also had to let the cooks know where to set up camp. The chuck wagons had to be at the intended campsite hours before the herd. Nothing made a saddle-tired rider forget his weariness faster than a good meal that was ready the minute he jumped off his horse.

After notifying Hank that she'd be traveling on ahead, Devlin set off north. The trail they followed wasn't that old, but the wagon ruts were visible enough to follow easily. Thousands of hooves had eaten the gra.s.s away as they tramped by on their way to Kansas. The best beef prices were in Abilene, and the only way for the Texans to get there was to come through the territory along the path that some called the Chisholm Trail.

There was nothing but prairie for hundreds of miles in any direction. Tall gra.s.s blew gently in the warm breeze. Patches of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes added color to the prairie. Usually, green gra.s.s would have been everywhere, but the rain had been scarce over the past spring. There was enough to last the herd until Abilene, but Devlin knew that if a bit of rain didn't ease the summer heat, Sarah's vision might take place sooner than expected.

She rode all the way to the Was.h.i.ta River and marked the spot where the herd would noon. Having crossed the river, she made her way north into the Was.h.i.ta Valley and marked a similar place for the evening camp. The cooks would easily spy the red bandannas that she had tied to an Osage orange tree.

Devlin carefully avoided the two-inch thorns while she searched the branches for signs of fruit. The horse apples, or hedge apples as the homesteaders called them, usually ripened to a bright green color in the late fall or winter. She slashed away at the surrounding branches to reveal a dried fruit still hidden from the squirrels that ate the seeds nestled inside. This would probably be her last chance to find one of the fruit-bearing trees along the trail.

In days past, Devlin had never seen a tree like it outside of the Red River Valley in the southern part of the territory. Nowadays, unscrupulous suppliers charged settlers nearly fifty dollars a bushel for Osage orange seeds. New wire was expensive, so farmers planted miles of the th.o.r.n.y hedge trees. The branches grew together and made a wall that divided the land and contained their livestock. The wood was the hardest thing Devlin had ever come across and she'd spent many a day earning a dollar by cutting the trees up for fence posts.

Devlin sighed as she felt more than urgency and fear in Sarah's vision. She felt a sadness surround her. She realized that a way of life was disappearing for the Indian peoples within the territory and for the cattlemen. The settlers and the trains brought more people west every day, people who had no idea how to live on wild land. They came looking for a land to tame. Devlin shook her head as she tucked the fruit into her saddlebag and rode away.

She set out farther north to scan the area where they would camp later. The most difficult task was deciding on a decent bed ground for fifty thousand beeves to spend the night.

By the time Devlin reached Mexican Bob's chuck wagon, the first shift of riders was just sitting on the ground with plates full of biscuits and bacon. Their noon meal would usually be light, but suppertime was something the riders looked forward to with enthusiasm. One thing supper always included on the trail was beef.

Devlin rode up the hill to where Matt had set up a temporary rope corral for the remuda. Devlin paused before dismounting, watching him readying fresh horses for the first group of men who had come in to eat. A couple of the riders smacked Matt on the back as they handed over their mounts' reins.

"How was dinner?" Devlin asked.

"Good." Matt grinned.

Devlin knew the nighthawk and wrangler ate before anyone else. To pay for the pleasure, they did just about every small, thankless ch.o.r.e there was on the trail. The nighthawk took care of the remuda at night. During the day, he washed dishes and drove the second wagon filled with the riders' bedrolls. When he and the cook arrived at the evening camp sometime in the middle of the day, the nighthawk found a quiet spot under a tree, if there was one, spread out his bedroll, and went to sleep.

"Did you give Bob a hand with the firewood?"

"Yep. I also told him I'd dig the trench for the fire at night camp."

"You're gonna wear me out just watching all that energy you got, boy." Devlin laughed. "Pace yourself, Matt. It's a long way to Abilene."

"Yes, boss," he said with his customary grin.

"Keep Alto's saddle on, I'll be taking her back out." Devlin tucked the mare's reins into the empty stirrup. Alto wasn't a wild range pony. She would come when Devlin whistled for her.

"Okay," Matt said. The novice wrangler was back at it as a few of the first dinner shift of riders strolled up the hill.

"Hey, partner," Willie Abbott, the left point man, called out to Matthew. "I need Belle, she's the white mare right over there." He pointed toward the back of the makeshift corral.

Devlin turned back to watch Matt. The fresh trail horses in the remuda were nothing like Alto. Those horses had a bit of rough left in them; they weren't about to come when called. What's more, they never let a man stroll up to them and put a rope around their neck. The feeling was that if a range horse allowed a man to get too close, it would be too easy to steal.