This Calder Range by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

help trailin’ that herd up to the Montana Territory.”
    â€œAre you takin’ her on the cattle drive?” Jessie Trumbo sounded incredulous.
    â€œI’m not going to marry her and leave her behind,” Benteen replied. “The offer stands. Any of you wantin’ a job taking these cattle north are welcome to sign on.”
    â€œYou can count me in.” Shorty was the first to speak up.
    â€œI got nothin’ keepin’ me in Texas,” Jessie included himself.
    â€œSpanish?” Benteen glanced at the Mexican. He wanted his experience on the drive.
    â€œI go with the cattle,” he agreed, and grinned when he added a quick qualification, “—as long as you get the herd there before it gets cold. My blood is too thin for such weather.”
    The Mexican’s dislike of the cold was well-known and greatly exaggerated. It brought a lazy curve to Benteen’s mouth as he turned to the last man in the group. Ely Stanton was always the quiet one, the last to speak up, slow to decide anything until he’d thought it through. He was also the only married man present. He’d tried his hand at almost everything—from farming to storekeeping—but he wasn’t happy off a horse.
    â€œWhat about you, Ely?” asked Benteen.
    â€œI don’t think the idea would sit well with Mary,” he answered slowly, with reference to his wife. “She’s got relatives in Ioway. She’s wantin’ us to go there and see if I can’t find me a place with some good rich dirt.”
    â€œAw, Ely, you ain’t gonna walk behind a plow and look at the back end of a horse all day when you could be ridin’ one, are you?” Shorty declared with a cowboy’s derision of a farmer.
    â€œI been thinkin’ about it.” There was a stiffness in the man as he poked at the campfire’s coals.
    â€œIf you decide to pull up stakes for Iowa, you might consider throwin’ in with the herd as far as Dodge City,” Benteen suggested. “Lorna might like the idea of havin’ another woman along for part of the journey.”
    â€œI’ll let you know about that,” Ely said.
    The cattle milled in the pen, horns rattling together. The men around the campfire were immediately alert, expecting trouble, but the disturbance was only a minor shifting of positions. Within minutes the bunch had settled down and all was quiet.
    â€œYou been away an awful long time, Benteen,” remarked Shorty. “How do you know yore gal’ll be waitin’ there to marry you? Maybe she changed her mind an’ run off with somebody else.”
    Unwittingly he touched a sore spot. Benteen had never forgotten his mother’s defection.
    â€œLorna isn’t that kind,” he snapped.
    â€œHey, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” Shorty protested. “You been in the brush too long. You’re as prickly as a cactus.”
    Benteen took the last drag on his cigarette and tossed the butt into the dying fire. “We’ll be headin’ out of here in the next couple of days. Soon as we got that last penful, we’ll join up with Willie and the main herd and head for Fort Worth.”
    Within a week, the cattle were thrown together and pointed toward Fort Worth. The first few days of the drive were critical, getting the herd trail-broken. The cows’ natural instinct was to return to the brush country that had been their home. The drovers were kept busy turning them back and keeping them moving in the right direction.
    Some trail bosses believed in pampering the animals, taking it slow the first few days. Benteen elected to push his mixed herd of cows, steers, and bulls—youngto old—so they’d be tired when they were bedded down for the night and less inclined to become restless and stampede. Those first days, they averaged better than fifteen miles a day.
    Luck seemed to be on Benteen’s side. The herd was