Second Star to the Right, Chapter 4 and 5

Second Star to the Right

by Mctrip7

Rating: PG-13
Genre: Suspense, Angst, Romance
For: Connor, as requested
Archive: Trip
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount, but the story is mine
Summary: Anticipation, Realization

Chapter 4

Earlier on Enterprise -

The characters floating around in Trip’s head began to coalesce again.

~~~

“Now concentrate on the pristine sunrises here on the ranch,” he told himself. “That beautiful stallion will be waiting for me and together we can fly like the wind.” His spirits soared. “Got to get up and get with it,” he scolded himself. “John said something about branding the last of the “doggies” today. I’d like to try my hand at that. I might even try sittin’ in my saddle again!”

On entering the kitchen, Clay saw that Maria was ready to carry the food out to the shed for the ranch hands.

“I’ll help you with that, Maria. Those pots are pretty heavy. What’s for lunch today? Smells good!”

The men like tortillas – they fill the masa shells with meat, beans, corn, etc. I have made some sopapillas today! They are good with honey. Have you ever tasted one, Clay?

“Can’t say that I have, but I’ll sure try one today.”

As Clay approached the long wooden table carrying the big iron pot, someone rang the bell. Within a few minutes there were more than twenty weather worn men taking their places. Their sun-tanned, leathery looking features resembled the paintings Clay had seen at school. Mr. Remington had certainly captured the look of Uncle John’s ranch hands. As the men approached, several of them spoke to Clay.

Curly said “How you feelin’, son? You look a mite better than you did the last time I saw you.”

“Fine, Curly. I’m sure your remedy kept me from getting an infection. Doc Jensen as much as said so. Thanks, Curly.”

“You want a plate?” Curly asked.

“Sure do,” Clay replied, as he decided to eat with the hands.

Couple of the younger men told Clay they hadn’t seen him since the round-up. Clay changed the subject, asking if they were going to brand the rest of the “doggies” today.

“Yeah, we got a couple more to do,” the red-headed one named Dan said.

“Care if I join you? I’d like to see how it’s done.” Clay asked.

“Come on down to the cow barn after we finish eatin’. We’ve got to check a couple of them for cracked hooves.”

“That can be deadly for a range cow, if it can’t be fixed.” Stoney, one of the older and rougher looking hands commented.

Later, as they walked to the cow barn, Stoney turned to Clay. “You ever seen an Indian up close?”

“A fellow came to speak to us at a History lecture once. Said his grandfather was a full blooded Mohawk. He had the dark smooth skin of an Indian, too.”

“No, I mean an Indian that only wears a loin cloth and is meaner that hell. They give no quarter, still scalping their captives. Their skin is more red than brown. I’m talking about the Comanche! They’ll never be tamed. When they’re on the prowl, nobody’s safe!

“I thought the Army had pushed the Indians farther west, like New Mexico, Arizona or up north to Wyoming and Utah.”

Stoney was surprised. “No, we got all kinds right here, some good, some bad. The Comanche are the worst. Just north of the Red River it’s called Indian Territory. They say there are sixty-seven different tribes living there. I’ve never checked it out,” he said as he gave a raucous laugh.

“Have you ever seen any of them on Uncle John’s Ranch?”

“Too many times! Sometimes they’re just passing through (they’ve never acknowledged that fences mean ‘keep out’); and other times they help themselves to one of the herd. They don’t leave much – they have this thing that you don’t throw away any useful part of a thing and you leave the earth just as you found it or plant something in its place. However when it comes to their enemies, they’re murderous! If you see a group traveling through here, keep out of their way. Try to stay down-wind of them so they won’t pick up your scent. Sam’ll know if they’re making any raid in the area; otherwise, John just ignores them.”

While Clay was still absorbing this new information, they arrived at the barn. Stoney stoked the fire and threw a few more logs on. There was a branding iron lying on the ground. The young calves were in the pen nearby. A couple of the other hands had arrived and were in the process of roping them and dragging them over to the fire.

“Clay, grab hold of that leather thong on the fence and help me bind their feet. Watch how I do it and then you try.”

Clay had to put the Indians ‘on the back burner’ while he reached for the thong and moved closer to Stoney. It took the seasoned man no more that ten seconds to throw the doggie down and tie his feet together.

“Now you try it,” Stoney said.

Clay grabbed the next calf around the neck and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. After much pulling and twisting, he finally got the animal down; but holding his legs together was another matter. After getting pummeled a few times, Clay finally got both feet together and wrapped the thong like Stoney did.

“Not bad. The faster you can do it, the better it works. They don’t have time to realize what you’re trying to do, and you can get the job done!”

“Now watch me,” Stoney continued. “You saw me stick the iron in the fire before we brought the doggie over here. One of the boys will hold him still while I apply the hot iron, straight down to make it clear. Count to five and raise it up. Got it?”

Clay nodded. The smell of burning hair and flesh almost got to him, but he didn’t flinch. He’d always been kind to animals and he didn’t relish burning one with a hot iron.

“The next one is all yours,” Stoney advised him.

Clay performed his task like a Pro, but he was glad when it was over.

“I’ll give you an A+ for that. Good job!” Some of the men echoed “Good job! OK!
Stoney continued “We’ll probably have quite a few to do when we bring another herd up. Calves are dropping pretty regular about this time of the year.”

Clay must not have looked too enthusiastic because Stoney said “Don’t worry, son, it gets easier as you go along. You can’t allow yourself to think of them as pets because they’re not. They’re a cash crop that rustlers would like to steal. How’s your seat comin’ along?”

“OK, I guess. I hadn’t thought about it. I’d like to be able to take Chiric out for a run tomorrow.”

“That’s a mighty fine horse. He hadn’t let anyone ride him until you came along. He decided you were the one he wanted for a partner. Horses are like that. People think they decide, but they really don’t. Horses will become one with their rider if they choose to. Looks like he chose you!”

“Stoney, would you think I’m crazy if I told you something strange? When I talk to Chiric, I think he understands what I’m saying. He listens, then turns his head, or paws the ground. Sometimes he raises his head and puts his ears back when he doesn’t want to do what I’m asking him to do. Is this possible or am I just reading something that isn’t there?”

“Clay, horses are beautiful, intelligent animals. I don’t know that they know the words you’re saying, but they can tell some way from your body language. If they hear words often enough, I think they can learn what you mean. Just keep talking to him. Follow his lead. I’m sure he knows a lot more about the range than we do. He’ll take care of you and always bring you home.”

Clay felt a sense of pride in what he shared with Chiric. “Thanks, Stoney, I really needed to hear that. I’ll go check on him now. He hasn’t had his run for today!”

The horse whinnied when he saw Clay. He began to move around in his stall, each time returning to the door.

“How about a little run? Tomorrow I may even go with you,” Clay said as he cinched the saddle under the horse’s belly. Chiric pawed the ground and shook his head. Clay led the beautiful stallion out of the barn and headed for the clump of trees near the pond. Clay tied the reins around the pommel on the saddle. The horse seemed to understand as he took off with his mane flying in the wind, returning to stand in front of Clay. They repeated this game several times before Clay said it was time to head back.

The following morning Clay was determined to give it a try. He saddled Cheric up and walked him out of the barn. When they were out of sight, he placed his foot in the stirrup and slowly threw his leg over Cheric’s back. He felt the stretch but it wasn’t painful. He urged the horse forward. Cheric seemed to sense the pace and moved ahead very slowly.

“Boy, it feels great to be riding again! Better take it slow and easy for a while, though.” Clay said to himself. “Don’t want to go through that again any time soon!”

Shortly, they returned to the ranch. As Clay exited the barn, he saw Sam coming across the yard.

“Hey, young fella! Would you be up to doin’ a little ridin’ tomorrow. I need to go up to the high pasture and see how Beau is holdin’ up. We need to get that herd ready to move out soon. Do you think you’re ready for it?”

“Sure, if we don’t have to ride too fast.” Clay said as he smiled.

“We won’t be in any big hurry, but I’d like to leave kind of early. It gets pretty hot out there in the afternoon.”

Clay nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you at 6:00.” Sam said as he headed for the big house.

Clay felt a surge of excitement. He hadn’t seen his cousin since he arrived and he was looking forward to that. He liked Sam, too, and this would give him a chance to really talk to him.

Chapter 5

Next morning Clay was up early. The sun was just breaking over the distant hills when he came downstairs. Maria was already in the kitchen and he could smell the bacon frying and the biscuits baking. Mixed with the aroma of fresh coffee perking, Clay felt his stomach begin to rumble. “I didn’t even think I was hungry,” he said to himself, “but that sure smells good.”

“Where you headin’ out to so early, youngun’?” Maria said as she came up behind him. It’s hardly daylight out there.”

Startled, Clay responded “I didn’t hear you come up, Maria. You’re lucky I didn’t reach for my gun.” Clay went through the motions of drawing his gun. “Or I might have if I had a real one. Uncle John is supposed to teach me the finer points of carrying a loaded forty-five sometime this week.”

Maria just looked at him. “You’ve got plenty of time before you have to start carrying one of those things. They get you IN more trouble than OUT of it!”

“Maria, I’m the only one around here that doesn’t carry a loaded gun. How can you say that?”

“Wait ‘till you shoot a man. You’ll never forget it. That tiny little bullet can take a man’s life right before your eyes. It takes a mighty cool head to be able to carry a gun, and know when to use it, Clay. Don’t forget that.”

“You must have seen some pretty bad things to feel that way, Maria. I don’t intend to go around pointing it at people, just snakes and coyotes.”

“I’ve seen men shoot other men by mistake, and lots of them shoot themselves or their horses because they forgot to put the safety on or it didn’t hold. Your cousin Paul couldn’t wait ‘till your uncle gave him his own gun. Then once out on the range someone yelled “Indians” and everyone headed for cover. Paul was behind the wagon waiting for the redskins to come over the ridge. He forgot that all the hands weren’t back in camp yet; so when Bo and Larry appeared on the ridge, he fired. He hit Beau in the soft part of his arm. A few inches more to the left and Beau wouldn’t be here today! I don’t think Paul ever picked up a gun again. I really think it affected what he decided to do with his life. He’s studying to be a minister, you know.”

Clay was quiet for a time.

“Guess I never thought about the consequences of what could happen. Thanks for tellin’ me about Beau. Uncle John hasn’t said much about either of them. Is there anything else I should know, Maria?”

“Can’t think of anything. John surely loves those boys. I think he really hated to see them grow up. They usually rode with him everywhere he went. Beau was always the more venturesome of the two, coming home with scrapes and scratches. He even broke his leg once when he fell off his horse and the horse stepped on him. He was cuttin’ up with one of the hands. They were racing and a sidewinder crossed their path. Beau’s horse tried to stop, and Beau was thrown off. The horse reared and backed over Beau when it tried to avoid the snake. At first we thought Beau had been bitten, but there were just abrasions where his horse got him.”

“Do things like that happen often? Seems like there are so many things you have to learn about this country. It doesn’t tolerate mistakes and the outcome can be deadly if you don’t learn fast. Maybe I should wait till sunup before taking Chiric out. I’m suppose to meet Sam at 6:00a.m.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. By the time you finish your breakfast the sun will be shining brightly. Sam will have to eat his breakfast, too. It’ll still be early enough to enjoy the cool morning air. That horse will love it. Now eat. I’ll wrap you a couple of biscuits for later. Maybe I can find an apple for Chiric.”

Clay smiled. He was looking forward to the ride up to the high pasture where Beau was camped with the big herd, fattening them up before moving them out to the railhead in Fort Worth for shipment to Kansas City. He hadn’t seen his cousin in five or six years, not since the last time Uncle John had been in Indianapolis, before Aunt Margaret died.

“Let’s see . . .I’m almost 24. Paul is two years older than I am and Beau is about three years younger that he is. That would make Beau around 23. I didn’t realize that we were that close,” Clay continued musing to himself.

“Thanks, Maria. I think I’ll go out to the barn and see if Sam’s there. I’ll be right back.

Maria was standing in the doorway watching him as he headed for the horse barn when someone came up behind her and said

“What’s so interesting out there that you forgot my breakfast?”

“Oh, John, you startled me! I was just watching Clay going out to saddle up Chiric. He and Sam are going to ride up to the high pasture to see Beau.”

“I don’t think Sam’s up, yet. He was up most of the night delivering that colt. It came early. I’m not sure its going to make it. I’d better go tell Clay.”

As John started toward the barn, he saw Clay heading back to the house.

“Mornin’, son. You look bright eyed this morning. I hear you’re going up to see Beau.”

“Yessir, I’m ridin’ up with Sam this morning.”

“He’s probably going to be running late today. He was up most of the night with that mare. She had a hard labor and things don’t look too good for the colt.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Clay hoped his disappointment didn’t show.

Maria stuck her head out the door and said “I hear Sam coming down now.”

John and Clay entered the kitchen as Sam appeared in the hall.

“Sorry I’m late, Clay. If you’re ready, why don’t you go ahead and I’ll catch up to you”

“I don’t mind waiting for you. I’m not sure just how to get there.”

John spoke up. “You know that big butte you can see from the rise. The herd is just beyond that. It looks closer than it is, but once you get there, you can see the herd for miles. I doubt you’ll make it to the Spring before Sam catches up with you.”

“OK, I’m gonna’ take it slow and easy anyhow. Clay headed back to the barn. He found Cheric in his stall waiting for him.

“How’d you know I’d be coming out so early?” Clay asked his horse as he reached for the saddle. Chiric whinnied his greeting to Clay. “How would you like a run up to the high pasture? We’ll have to stop on the way. I don’t want a repeat of two weeks ago! I brought along a blanket to put on the saddle. Maybe that will help.

“Feels OK,” he said to himself. He had shortened the stirrups at Shorty’s suggestion. That way he could stand up more and put less pressure on his seat. As Clay led the horse out of his stall, he noticed a rifle hanging by the door. He’d gotten good marks on the range at school; so he took it down and checked it out.

“Maybe we’ll find some rabbits or a turkey on the way, Chiric. At least I know how to handle one of these,” Clay said as he put the rifle in the pocket on his saddle. “Well, let’s give it a try.” Clay relaxed the reins and clicked his little signal to Chiric. The horse moved forward slowly. Clay waved to John and Maria.

John watched as Clay rode off. “He’s a fine young man, Maria. He’s had a rough couple of weeks so far. Maybe he won’t be discouraged about life on the range, Texas in particular. I haven’t been able to spend much time with him. Once we get that herd loaded and on its way to Kansas City, I should have some free time. Maybe I’ll take him hunting. We need to check out the bobcat population up on the ridge.”

“He’s real anxious to get that holster on his belt. I tried to point out the responsibility that goes with it, but I’m not sure he really heard me, John.”

“I’ll be taking him out for some target practice real soon. I’ll teach him how to handle himself. Sam can show him some of the finer points. By the way, Sam saw a hunting party up on the Red last week. He said there were eight or nine in the group. That’s a good size party. Sam said they didn’t have any paint on, though; so I don’t believe they were on a raid. Things have been pretty quiet for some time. I hope it doesn’t mean we’re due for an uprising. Just keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anything unusual.”

John finished his breakfast in silence. “I’m going to be heading up to the high pasture, too, in a little while; so I’ll check up on our boy. See you later.”

Maria knew that John was aware of her concern for Clay. If he was going the same way, she knew she wouldn’t have to worry. “Better get back to work or I won’t have lunch ready for those hungry men!” Maria chuckled to herself.

Gradually Chiric increased his speed until he was at full extension and covering the meadow like the wind. Clay could feel the cool morning breeze on his face as he leaned forward to hold Chiric’s mane. “This seems so natural, Chiric. I’m so glad to be able to ride again. I hope you know the way to the high pasture. I remember seeing the big herd in the distance when we were hunting for those strays. They were up on a rise just beyond that big butte in the distance. Looks like it’s just a mile or so away, but it’s probably nearer ten. This sure is big country.”

The beautiful tawny shaded stallion with his taffy colored mane blowing in the wind fairly flew across the terrain, heading for the high country. Clay had that elated feeling again of being one with his mount. About an hour out, they reached an arroyo with a trickle of water still meandering through it.

“Let’s stop here, Chiric. We can have a drink and rest a few minutes before we continue on. Sam should be catching up with us soon.”

The arroyo was about ten feet deep; so they did not have a clear picture of the surrounding country. Clay was able to mount Chiric without any trouble. They continued following the stream as it twisted and turned until they came to a wash-out where the bank lowered to about three feet. Chiric easily climbed the bank near a scrub of mesquite. Clay looked back to see how far they had come. What he saw made him freeze!

There were five Indians in the process of dismounting not forty yards back. One was leading his horse down to the stream Clay and Chiric had just left. The others were engaged in a spirited conversation, pointing in several different directions. The party gave no indication of being aware of Clay’s presence.

“We must be downwind of them,” Clay said to himself. He dismounted and began walking Chiric away from the group. They must have walked a mile before Clay decided it was safe to mount his horse and begin to ride away. He kept glancing back, but there didn’t appear to be anyone following them. Though he kept the butte, his landmark, in sight, they veered off to the right heading for the craggy hills and scrub to give them some cover.

“If we keep ridin’ this way, by the time we reach the butte, we should be able to see the herd in the distance. I hope those Indians don’t decide to head this way,” Clay continued talking to Chiric. “Wonder what they were so agitated about?”

Clay decided to pick up their pace as they moved down from the rocks. Chiric seemed a little nervous.

“What’s wrong, boy? Do the rocks hurt your feet? We’ll be out of them in a few minutes and you can stretch your legs.” The next sound Clay heard made his hair stand up. There was no mistaking the deep guttural growl of a bobcat, a big bobcat!

TBC

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