Of Peaks and Prairies (Paradise Valley Book 1) Page 12

  “Halt!” cried a voice from a stand of evergreens ahead of them on the trail.

  Thomas pulled Alto to a halt and lifted his hand to signal the rest of the group to stop. The cattle waited patiently behind him, tossing their horns at one another as the group piled up behind the leaders. “Who’s there?” he called, standing in his stirrups and reaching cautiously for the pistol in his holster.

  “U.S. Army.” Three men in Union uniform rode from the shadows of the junipers and cantered across the open field toward him. They pulled up beside him, eyes trained on his holster. The men’s uniforms were worn and faded and they carried old fashioned Springfield rifles in their saddle bags. Their faces were weather-beaten and their eyes vacant.

  Thomas shifted his hand back to the reins and smiled, tipping his hat at the men. “Well, good day to you. How can I help you men?”

  “You’re coming up on Fort Phil Kearny. You’ll need to check in there and speak to the commanding officer. He’s asked to see anyone passing through Dakota Territory on the Bozeman Trail into Montana Territory.”

  “Can I ask what this is about?” asked Thomas, feeling concerned. He’d never heard any mention of the Army asking cattlemen to stop in at Fort Phil Kearny on their way into Montana. Something must be wrong.

  “Sorry, sir – the commander wants to see you himself. I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything more than that. If you’ll just have your men drive the cattle to the field south of the fort and settle them there, we can take you to see the commander and get everything sorted out.”

  Thomas nodded. He didn’t want to get held up by the Army, but he really had no choice. He had to do whatever they asked him to. “You got it.”

  The soldiers cantered north, back up the trail, and Thomas turned to signal to the men to push the herd on. They soon arrived at the field the soldiers had spoken of, and they settled the cattle there to graze. Dan rode up beside him and dipped his hat. “Howdy, boss. What was that all about?”

  “Not sure. You stay here with the herd and wagons – I’ll head on up to the fort. Apparently the commander wants to speak with anyone using the trail. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Dan nodded, and Thomas spurred Alto forward to follow the soldiers up the trail to the fort. He could see Fort Phil Kearny perched on a rise behind the field. The fort was laid out flat in a large square shape. Squat buildings ran the length and breadth of the square, enclosing barracks, a flat open space in between the four sides and an American flag on a tall pole in the middle, that flapped in the afternoon breeze.

  Thomas glanced up to see darkened clouds skidding across the graying sky. He knew how quickly the weather could change up here. He trotted into the fort, nodding at the guards who stood on duty at the fort’s gates.

  A man in uniform with a row of medals pinned to his chest, strode out from one of the buildings to meet him. “Good afternoon – I’m Captain Weston. Thank you for joining me.”

  Thomas swung down from Alto’s back and stepped forward to shake the captain’s hand. “Good afternoon, Captain Weston. I’m Thomas O’Reilly, owner of the herd down on the field below the fort. I guess I’m just curious as to what this is all about. I was under the impression that the fort didn’t involve itself in cattle drives on the trail. Has something changed?”

  “Walk with me, Mr. O’Reilly.”

  Thomas fell in step beside the Captain and they walked side by side down the length of the promenade. Captain Weston walked with his hands held casually behind his back. A long mustache drooped over hollow cheeks, and a wispy gray-flecked beard cloaked a thin, pointed chin. The building at the end of the compound was still under construction, and men scurried around the place carrying boards on rugged shoulders and nailing them in place.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you continue on the trail,” said the captain as he squinted into the setting sun.

  “What do you mean, you can’t let us continue? Why not?” Thomas felt his cheeks flush with anger. This couldn’t be happening! If the captain wouldn’t let them pass into Montana, what would they do with the herd? Where would they go? They could return to Kansas and take their chances with the Jayhawkers, or they could stay in Dakota Territory. But regardless, his dreams of selling beef to the gold miners in Montana would be over. He shook his head and clenched his fists.

  “I’m afraid the situation with the tribes native to this area has gotten out of control. The Sioux, the Cheyenne, even the Crow on occasion, have taken it upon themselves to prevent settlers from using the trail to travel into Montana. They’re determined to keep the area for themselves and their tribes. Of course, we’re not going to let them do that, but for the time being we can’t allow anyone to use the trail. You understand – it’s our duty to ensure your safety.” The Captain turned to face him, his eyebrows raised.

  Thomas stopped and gaped at him in amazement. Had the situation really gotten so bad? Last time he’d used the trail, only six months earlier, he’d had no trouble at all. Settlers had been flooding into Montana, fanning out to settle throughout the Bighorn Range, in Bozeman and the various townships and hamlets in the surrounding area. “How long do you expect it will take for you to get the situation under control?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I really couldn’t say. We hope to have the trail cleared sometime this week, but with things like this it’s difficult to know how successful we’ll be in the short term. Although when the time is right, we’ll provide you with an escort to make sure you get through safely.” He turned to leave. As he marched away, he called back over his shoulder, “And I’d appreciate it if you’d move your cattle south in a few days, back to the plains. We’re grazing our own cattle near the fort, and I’d prefer if your herd didn’t consume all of the grazing around these parts.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thomas shook his head in disbelief. Not only did the captain intend to deny them access to the Bozeman Trail, blocking their only path into Montana, he also insisted they return to Kansas. His stomach twisted into knots. After all their hard work and everything they’d been through to this point, to be turned back now made him feel sick.

  He galloped south along the trail, back to the herd. The crew had set up a campfire with the wagons parked around it. He could see Sarah and Genevieve hard at work preparing supper on the pull-out table at the back of the chuck wagon. His heart leaped in his chest at the sight of Genevieve’s dark hair, blowing in the frigid wind, her skirts whipping around her legs.

  He stared up at the sky once again. They’d have to hurry and prepare for the approaching storm. The cattle were easily spooked – it was essential that they settle the herd and keep a close eye on them tonight. They couldn’t afford another stampede, not after they’d already lost so many animals to the Jayhawkers. And in the Bighorn Mountains, strays would be hard to find.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Genevieve listened as the cowboys walked around the herd, singing gentle lullabies to the cattle. The wind whipped around them in a frenzy, pulling at the tall grasses and bending the tops of the junipers eastward. The trees leaned and shook and the canvas covers on the wagons flapped noisily behind her.

  There was no point trying to build a fire in a wind like this. She’d sent the crew out with pockets stuffed full of sourdough biscuits, beef jerky and the last of the apples for supper. They would eat while they worked tonight, as Thomas had said there would be no rest for any of them while the storm hung around. She leaned into the wind, a shawl over her head, as she tied Patches to the trunk of a juniper.

  Cookie had emerged sober from the back of the chuck wagon after a long sleep and was busily battening down both wagons with Sarah beside him. Genevieve finished settling Patches with a scratch behind her ears and hurried to help them. In no time, they had the campsite ready for the approaching storm.

  A crack of lightning split the icy air and lit up the rapidly darkening valley. The cattle lowed and shifted restlessly in the open field surrounded by the bowing evergreens, their ey
es wild and nostrils flared. Genevieve climbed into the back of Sarah’s wagon with her, and the two women lay on a straw tick, watching through the opening in the canvas as the cowboys wheeled around the herd, trying desperately to keep them together.

  As another bolt of lightning cracked open the sky above them, a rush of cold rain fell all at once, pummeling the herd, the cowboys and the wagons with heavy drops. Genevieve reached for Sarah’s hand and the two of them lay still beside each other, eyes wide and hearts racing. She was glad she was tucked safely into the wagon, although the buffeting force of the wind rocked it back and forth beneath them as though it were a toy and they were rag dolls within. At least they were out of the rain. She caught a drop on her nose as it angled through the back of the wagon. It was almost frozen and bit into her skin with icy sharpness.

  Sarah threw a blanket over the two of them and they snuggled closer still. They watched in silence as the cowboys clucked to their horses, whistled to the cattle and galloped back and forth to re-settle runaways into the group. It was a race against time and the elements of nature, and one they didn’t seem to be winning.

  Genevieve shivered and said a prayer for their safety. As a series of lightning flashes lit up the sky and revealed the swirling dark mass of clouds above them, she gasped and locked eyes with Sarah. The storm was only just getting started.

  ***

  Thomas’ eyes flicked over the restless herd. The men were having a difficult time keeping the cattle in place. Close to three thousand head, pressed together in a valley surrounded by craggy mountain peaks on one side and foothills on the other, lit by crashing lightning – it was enough to stir the pulse of the most hardened cowboy. He pressed Alto forward to round a heifer back into the herd, saw another group of steers head off toward a thicket of junipers and whistled to Dan, signaling him to follow them. Dan galloped after them and turned them back.

  The rain fell heavy on his head and had already soaked him to the bone. He shivered in the cold and lifted the collar of his coat higher in an attempt to prevent the rain from coursing down the brim of his hat and into his coat.

  The wagons looked as though they were shivering and shaking in the maddening wind as it howled through the valley. Genevieve, Sarah and Cookie were no doubt huddled inside. He hoped the wagons would hold steady, since he had his hands full with the herd and wouldn’t be able to help them if they got into trouble. Cookie seemed sober enough earlier – he should be able to take care of the womenfolk on his own.

  Thomas ran a hand over his beard and shook the water from it. The temperature had dropped quickly since the storm began, and the occasional raindrop felt as though it were pregnant with ice, cutting into his skin wherever it was exposed.

  Frozen rain always drove longhorns mad with fright, and the herd turned around among themselves, clashing horns, stamping feet and bawling into the icy wind and cutting rain. Another group of steers made a break for it, heading south along the trail. Vaquero and Coop headed off after them, flapping their reins and jamming their spurs into the sides of their galloping mounts.

  It was no use – they couldn’t catch them, and the hole that was left where the cowboys had been was suddenly filled with a stream of cattle. They careened along the trail behind the two men, their heads down and their feet gaining momentum with each stride. The herd was stampeding, and there wasn’t a thing Thomas could do about it.

  He drew a deep breath and pushed Alto down the hillock from where he’d been watching to follow the escaping herd. The wagons had seemed safe, but now the cattle were turning and running, bellowing and ramming into each other in a frenzied state in their direction. The stream of cattle widened until it was a wall that toppled Sarah’s wagon in an instant. The vehicle lay on its side, wheels spinning, its canvas cover pressed into the muddied ground.

  Thomas shouted out and galloped Alto around the back of the herd. He couldn’t charge through it – Alto would be gored and trampled to death. He signaled to the rest of the crew, who set about surrounding the herd to run steadily with them down the valley until they came to a place where the cattle could be turned. Every cowboy worth his salt knew what to do in a stampede, and Thomas trusted in the wisdom and skill of Dan and his men to rescue the longhorns. He had to make sure Genevieve, Sarah and Cookie weren’t hurt.

  ***

  Genevieve moaned. The wagon was on its side and she could hear the longhorns tramping by and knocking against the canvas and roof frame as they ran, making the entire vehicle rock in place. She and Sarah had landed side-by-side in the mud when the wagon overturned. Thankfully, the heavier items in the back of the wagon were up close to the front and hadn’t landed on either of them. Still, she felt as though she’d strained her wrist and her side was badly bruised.

  She lifted her head and glanced around. Sarah lay close by, her eyes blinking. “Are you okay, Sarah?” she cried.

  “I’m fine. What about you?”

  “Yes – just a few bruises, I think.”

  “We’d better find somewhere to hunker down,” said Sarah, pushing herself into a crouching position. Her face dripped mud on one side and her clothes were soaked. The canvas roof of the wagon lay in an enormous puddle of muddy water, and they could see the charging cattle as shadows through the fabric. The rain pelted loud against the canvas and the timber side of the wagon.

  The two women crawled back into the wagon bed and lifted the straw tick to slide beneath it. If nothing else, perhaps it could protect them from being trampled or gored too badly if the cattle were to break through the canvas. Genevieve’s heart raced and her throat constricted in fear. She didn’t know what she’d do if the cattle turned and ran directly into them. And where was Cookie? Was he hurt? He had a wagon full of heavy supplies and sharp implements. If it overturned with him in the back, he could be badly injured. “Do you think Cookie is okay?” she asked, her voice wavering.

  “I’m sure he’s fine. As Bill always says, let’s not borrow trouble.” Sarah was practical to the core. Genevieve couldn’t understand how she remained so unflappable and calm with everything that was going on around them.

  The lightning flashes and cracks of thunder abated, and all around the only sound was the pouring, drenching rain falling to the earth in fat droplets that ran into streams and puddled on the muddied ground. Genevieve shivered beneath the straw tick. Water from the puddle they’d landed in ran down the sides of her face and into her eyes. She brushed her face with her sleeve, but it was wet too.

  A face appeared at the round opening in the canvas beside them. It was Thomas. His blue eyes peered at them, concern etched across his handsome features. “Genny, Sarah! Are you hurt?” He began to loosen the ropes securing the taut roof to the wagon bed.

  Genevieve felt her voice catch in her throat as a sob threatened to escape. She was so relieved to see him. “We’re okay, Tom. I don’t think we’re hurt. Just a little shaken up.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Here, take my hand.” He reached inside and helped them from the back of the wagon. Alto stood patiently behind him, with only a cluster of bushes blocking the horse and them from the racing cattle.

  Thomas glanced back frequently, checking to make sure the stampede continued to go around the other side of the tree line. As he helped Genevieve from the wagon bed, the last of the herd disappeared past the wagon and down the valley. The noise of the stampede faded into the distance and they were left alone in the pounding rain.

  Genevieve leaned on Thomas’ arm and limped toward the waiting horse. “You’re injured,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

  “Not badly. Just a twisted ankle and a few bruises, I think.”

  “Lean on me. You can shelter under those junipers until I get the wagon righted.” He helped her to the shelter of the trees, then hurried back to get Sarah. She had injured her knee and leaned on his shoulder for support as she hobbled to join Genevieve. Then Thomas strode to the wagon and used his weight to try and lift and push it back onto its wheels. It groaned and
creaked, but wouldn’t be budged.

  One of the roof supports looked to have been broken in two and there were a few gashes in the canvas itself. But otherwise, the wagon appeared to be in decent shape. He disappeared around the vehicle, then reappeared beside the chuck wagon. It was pressed up against a separate cluster of trees, and although it looked as though it had been pummeled by the stampeding animals, it hadn’t overturned. He peered inside, and soon Cookie’s head emerged from the gap in the canvas. He smiled and waved to the women, then returned to the warmth and safety of the wagon.

  Thomas ran back to speak to the women, his coat blackened by the rain. “Would you ladies like to join Cookie in the chuck wagon? I won’t be able to right yours, Sarah, until some of the men return, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes – thank you, Tom.” Sarah smoothed the hair back from her face. Genevieve caught his eyes and nodded her thanks to him with a tender smile.

  He grinned in return, then helped them both into the front of the chuck wagon. There wasn’t much room, but Cookie had moved things aside so they could squeeze in for at least a short while. Sarah climbed inside and disappeared from view.

  Genevieve stood still, her head bowed. She looked up at Thomas, who waited patiently, his hands on his hips. She stood on tiptoe, the rain coursing down her face, and quickly planted a hot kiss on his lips. She wound her hands around the back of his neck and twisted her fingers through his hair, pulling herself up higher still to deepen the kiss.

  His eyes, full of surprise, soon closed and he groaned against her mouth, his lips tugging gently at hers. The kiss became more urgent. Then she pulled away, her eyes still closed. When she looked at him, she took in his features at a glance. His eyebrows were still arched in surprise, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. She smiled and her hands dropped to her side.