“Where’s the boy?” The small voice perked Ben’s ears. Little Star, holding tight to her mother’s brightly colored calico skirt, poked her head out from behind Mrs. Ramsey.
Garret chuckled. “I’m afraid Little Star is quite struck by your Charlie.”
“Am not.” The girl moved from behind her mother. “I just want to race him on a horse.”
Ben grinned. “I bet Charlie would be happy to race you. He’d give you a run for your money.”
“Don’t want no money. Just to beat the boy.”
Her mother touched the girl’s head. “He might beat you.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve been practicing.” Little Star twirled her braid.
They all laughed.
The baby began to rub her eyes and nuzzled her mother’s arm. Mrs. Ramsey bounced the chubby-cheeked, brown-eyed cherub and pivoted toward the door. “Little Star, come help me fix the men a treat while they talk. Maybe you can write a letter to Charlie and send it by way of Mr. McKenzie.”
The girl hopped up and down. “Can I, Mr. McKenzie? I know all of my ABC’s and how to make words. Can the boy read?”
“You better believe he can.” Ben bent down, hands on knees. “I’ll take your letter to him. Only, it might be a while before I get back that way.”
“Why?” She looked up at him big-eyed
“Enough questions.” Juggling the squirming baby, Mrs. Ramsey tugged the child into the cabin with her. “We need to get busy before your little brother wakes from his nap.”
Ben turned back to Garret. “Now, about that chinking…”
Four hours later, the two men, joined by Devon, sat in the shade of a cottonwood. Its towering branches stretched over them like a giant hand.
Over lemonade and gingersnaps, Ben laid out his plans to drive his cattle to Colorado via New Mexico with Eagle Ed as guide.
Garret rolled his shoulders. “I’d be happy to let you talk to my men. There’s the three from my old regiment that came along to try their hand at ranching, and then there’s Kuruk, an Apache friend of mine from my days at Camp Cooper before the war. If you give us a few days to make headway on the cabins, I’d be willing to spare one or two men if any of them want to hire on with you temporarily. It’d give them good practice for when we have our own drive next year.”
“As long as it wouldn’t cause you too much hardship, I’d be much obliged. According to Eagle Ed, we need at least two or three more hands, in addition to the two Charles Goodnightloaned me, if we hope to keep the cattle in line.” Ben’s lips puckered as he sipped his lemonade.
“I’m interested in signing on, McKenzie.” Devon scrubbed his hand over his stubble-covered jaw. “If Garret doesn’t mind holding down the fort without me for a couple of months. But I’ll have to talk with my wife first.”
A whole month or two. Yes, it’d take at least that long. Mid-August probably, before he could get back to Cora. Ben’s insides squirmed. How could he consider leaving Cora alone for that long? Yet it was the surest way to provide for her and Charlie. If he wanted any hope of catching Goodnight at Fort Sumner and avoiding traveling the rest of the way to Colorado, he wouldn’t have time to see Cora first. “I’d welcome your help, but I hate to ask you to leave off working on your cabin.”
Devon leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I know the territory better than any man here. I’m Texas born and bred. All the rest are Northern city boys.”
“City boys?” Garret shoved his boot against his brother-in-law’s. He narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t quell the upturn of the corners of his mouth. “I could keep pace with you on a scout any day if I didn’t have to lead this operation here.”
Ben leaned back against the ridged bark of the tree. “The war took the city out of all of us.”
If only that was all it’d taken from him.
CHAPTER 27
Camped at the edge of the headwaters of the Middle Concho River, Ben sat atop his bedroll and scooped beans from his tin plate to his mouth. A week in the saddle and nights spent beneath the open sky on hard ground. Almost like being in the cavalry again. He’d have a few hours of rest before Eagle Ed would wake him for his turn at watch.
Smoke trickled up from the campfire, illuminating the scrub brush, mesquite, and juniper along the muddy riverbanks. On down the shore, where the land was flatter, the cattle stood in patches of prairie grass near the water.
Ben’s shoulders ached from lifting filled water barrels onto their wagon. According to Ed, they needed to fill every barrel, canteen, and jug to the brim. They’d allow the cattle to drink to their hearts’ content here before heading out tomorrow in the heat of the afternoon.
Plate in hand, Devon ambled over and sat down on a log across the fire. “I hope Ed knows what he’s doing. Eighty miles till the next watering hole?”
“If it was only Ed, I’d have more worries. But Goodnight is the one who scouted the trail and mapped it out.” Ben poked a piece of fatback on his plate.
