Echoes of the Heart: Poems by Carole Bergman Read Free Book Online Page B

retired Mills with
full pay for his years of service to his father and himself.  
    “I’ve never seen
so many livestock buyers gather at the hotel.   Looks like John and I will have our hands full when all the cowboys come
in looking for some fun.   I noticed Angie
has some new girls, too.”
    He spun on a heel
and spoke over his shoulder while exiting the store.   “I’ve got a big meeting tonight.   I have to put on my Sunday best for the mayor
you know, and I still need to ride out to the Mitchell ranch first.   It will take the better part of the day.”
                “Take
care, Cash.   Sure wouldn’t want you to
miss your meeting with the money grubbing politician.” Mills smiled turning
back to his broom.   Cash had known Mills
all of his life and always enjoyed talking with him about his childhood days but
when the discussion came to the past few years, he always found an excuse to
deviate from the topic.
                Turning
right toward the hotel, he spotted Angie crossing the street a few blocks down,
her pretty figure shown off in a skin-tight black dress, her fair hair done up
in curls cascading down her back.
    Feeling a twinge
of desire, he accelerated his pace and soon arrived back at the office where he
stood in front for a moment watching wagons and men on horseback as they passed
by.
    The day turned
warm and a slight breeze rustled through the turning leaves on nearby trees
marking the start of another harsh winter in the Dakotas,
knowing soon, he would have to make another trip to the Black Hills
to take a load of blankets and winter supplies to the Cheyenne.   He missed the childhood days running wild and
free with the Indians playing their games of skill and hunting buffalo on
horseback.   He feared soon that they
would be only ghosts of the past.
                Noticing
the jail could use a new coat of paint when he entered, Cash made a mental note
to discuss the necessary maintenance with the mayor.   With the rise in population, the jail could
use another cell or maybe even two.   For
sure, he had to have another part-time deputy.
    So often, his job
led him out of town.   His district
covered the entire state and he did not like leaving the town with just one man
while away on other federal business.   Soon Senator Wilcox would arrive in town, and he would speak to him
about some additional federal funding for the office as well as the problems
with the Indians, having been a sore spot for some time.   With the increase in the white population,
the Cheyenne had diminished
substantially and he would do all in his power to see them dealt with fairly.
                Cash
pulled a Winchester equalizer out
of the case on the wall near the cast iron stove then dropped an extra box of
ammunition into his saddlebags then went out the back door to the coral.   He whistled for his appaloosa filly while he
reached for the hackamore.   “Hey there,
Little Rabbit.”
    A gift from Dull
Knife at six months of age, her coat shone in the sunlight, the blanket of
shiny black spots on her rump a sharp contrast to her glistening snow-white
coat.   The high angle of her muscled rear
quarters rose slightly above her withers giving her the proper leverage to make
a good cowpony.   With ears perked
forward, she trotted over to Cash nuzzling his hand searching for a treat.
    “Not right now,
girl.   You’ll get something when we get
back from Mitchell’s.”   Placing the
bridle on her proud chiseled head, he pulled her black forelock through the
head strap.   She butted her nose into his
rump when he placed the saddle on her back and strapped the cinch around her
girth before he led her outside the coral and swung his long leg easily over
the saddle.
    As he left, John
came to the coral leading his horse.   “Where are you off to, Cash?   I
just finished taking a ride around town.”
                “I’m
going out to Mitchell’s to talk with