Pony Express Courtship (10 page)

Chapter Ten

S
eth watched as Noah and Clayton worked with their horses. He stood by the corral gate. It had been a couple of hours since Rebecca had come out and found him pretend shooting at her boys.

He'd since sent the boys off to do chores, except for Noah and Clayton. He pulled the two boys so that he could see where they were with their riding skills. Seth's plan was to spend a little time each day with separate boys so that he could assess their strengths and weaknesses.

Noah rode as if he'd been born on a horse. His body moved with the animal and he instinctively seemed to know what it would do next. He paid close attention to the horse and made sure to use his softest voice when speaking to her.

Clayton, on the other hand, acted as if he'd never seen a horse, let alone rode one. He mounted like a young girl, clung to the saddle horn and looked as skittish as a rat around a snake. He never spoke to his horse or directed it in any manner.

Seth called to Noah, “Noah, take your mount to the barn and cool her down. You've done a good job today.”

“Thanks, Seth.” The boy smiled broadly as he rode past.

He nodded to Noah and then called to Clayton, “Clayton, bring your horse here.”

Clayton dismounted and then walked the horse to the railing, where Seth stood watching. “Yes, Seth?” Weariness filled the boy's voice.

“Why did you walk him over?” Seth asked, reaching out to pat the horse's velvety nose.

The boy shrugged. His head was down and his shoulders slumped under his coat.

“Do you like the horse?” Seth asked.

Clayton looked up and grinned. “It's a horse.”

“Yes, but do you like him?” Seth ran his hand over the animal's neck.

“I suppose. Never been around horses before. The other guys like them, so I guess I'll grow to like them, too.” Clayton twisted the lead rope in his gloved hands.

“How would you like to go out with me into the west pasture?” Seth asked, opening the gate and motioning for Clayton to lead the horse out.

“Sure. What are we going to do out there?” Clayton asked.

Seth fell into step beside him. He nudged the boy with his shoulder. “Honestly, I just want to take ol' Sam out for a ride.”

“You named your horse ol' Sam?”

He chuckled at the boy's shock. “Well, just Sam. What have you named your mount?”

They entered the warmth of the barn, where Jacob and Benjamin sat playing a game of checkers on a bale of hay. Seth walked back to the stall that held Sam. He listened as the boys talked.

“You beating him, Beni?” Clayton asked.

“Nope. Second game and I still haven't won,” Benjamin answered Clayton. “But I ain't gonna quit tryin'.”

“What would Ma say if she heard you talking like that, Benjamin?” Jacob scolded.

“Like what?” The boy's voice sounded defensive.

Seth thoroughly cinched the saddle under Sam's belly, grinning.

“Ain't? Gonna? Tryin'?”
Jacob repeated.

Clayton laughed. “He sounds like a hickabilly to me.”

“Ma would say he's uneducated and probably make him come inside for grammar lessons if she heard,” Jacob replied with seriousness.

Benjamin whined, “You aren't going to tell her, are you?”

Seth pulled Sam from the stall. He watched Jacob ruffle the little boy's hair and laugh. “Not this time, but you really should watch how you talk. If Ma hears you talking like that, she'll have you in the house instead of out here in this nice warm barn. And you wouldn't be playing checkers, either, but reading from that grammar book she's so fond of.”

“What about you, Clayton? Gonna tell on me?” Benjamin asked, looking up at his older brother.

“Not me. Be my misfortunate she'd make me practice with you. You're safe.” Clayton grinned down at Benjamin.

Benjamin and Clayton seemed to have a special relationship. The boys' closeness made Seth wish he had brothers. It was too bad he was an only child. He pulled his horse up beside Clayton's. “Ready?”

Clayton nodded. “Ready as I'll ever be.” Most eighteen-year-old boys would be thrilled to go out riding, but Clayton's tone sounded anything but thrilled.

Seth looked to Jacob. “Clayton and I are going to go check the fence along the west side of the border. We should be back in time for supper.”

“I'll have Ma keep a plate warm for you both if you're late.” Jacob turned his focus back on the game.

Once out of the barn, Seth pulled himself up into the saddle. He watched as Clayton did the same. Then he proceeded toward the west pasture.

After a few minutes, Clayton said, “I'm not sure I'm going to be a very good Pony Express rider.”

Seth slowed Sam down so that he could talk to the boy. “No?”

Clayton shook his head.

“Why not?” Seth tilted his head to look the boy in the eyes.

“Riding horses has never been of any interest to me,” Clayton answered, hanging on to the saddle horn as if he feared falling off.

Seth couldn't hide his surprise at the boy's words. He let them go for several moments before asking, “Then what does interest you?”

Clayton swallowed hard. “You'll just laugh.”

“Maybe, but I promise I won't laugh out of meanness.”

“All right. I like to doctor stuff.”

There was nothing funny about that. Why would the boy think he'd laugh? He'd never understand the workings of a young boy's mind. “Man or beast?”

“You aren't going to laugh?”

Seth frowned. “I don't understand why you would think I'd laugh. Doctoring is an honorable profession. There is nothing to laugh about.” He led his horse down to the stream and dismounted.

Clayton followed. When he was on the ground, too, he answered, “All the guys laugh at me. Ma's the only one who doesn't. She's bought me a couple of books about doctoring people and told me I can do anything I put my mind to.”

“She's right.” Seth admired Rebecca for her wisdom in not discouraging the boy like his brothers had.

“You really believe that?” Clayton asked, rubbing his horse's shoulder as it drank from the cold stream water.

“Yes. I believe that you can do anything you put your mind to. I also believe that God gives us our dreams and desires. So, if you want to be a doctor, who am I to question that?”

Seth pulled his horse back up the stream's bank. When on solid ground, he swung up into the saddle.

Clayton followed. He seemed in deep thought.

Seth led the way to the west pasture. His gaze followed the fence line, checking to see if there were any holes in the fence. Not finding any, he glanced back at Clayton.

The boy sat tall in the saddle. His hand no longer rested on the saddle horn. His head was back and he looked up into the sky. He'd been quiet for at least half an hour.

Not sure what more to say to the boy, Seth turned Sam back in the direction of home. They rode another ten minutes and Clayton galloped up beside him.

“Seth?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Ma will let me keep a little of the money I make with the Pony Express?”

Answering honestly, Seth said, “I don't know. You'll have to ask her.” He watched the boy study the workings of the horse's neck. “What do you want the money for?”

“Well, I been thinking about what you said down by the stream and I think you are right. God did give me this dream to doctor animals, but I need to learn more about how to do it. So if Ma will let me have some of the money, I can buy books and learn more about doctoring,” he answered with a faraway look in his eyes.

Seth wondered if doctoring people and doctoring animals were similar. Would studying books on how to take care of people also help Clayton learn to take care of animals? They weren't exactly the same thing. He almost laughed at his line of thinking, but then decided that Clayton might think he was laughing at him. Instead he decided to bring the subject back around to the reason he'd brought Clayton out to the pasture.

He looked over at the boy, whose thoughts seemed miles away. “You know, Clayton, you need to learn how to take care of your horse and how to ride him really well so that you can earn the money you need from the Pony Express.”

The boy nodded. “I'll work really hard, Seth.”

“Have you thought up a name for your horse?” Seth asked, patting Sam on the neck.

“Bones.”

“Bones?”

Clayton smiled broadly. “Yep, he's going to be a doctor's horse. I once heard Papa John call the doctor in town Bones. He's going to help me earn the money to become a doctor. So I'm going to call him Bones.”

Seth chuckled. “I like it.”

They rode back to the farm with Seth giving Clayton pointers and teaching him how to control the horse with his knees. Seth couldn't help wondering what Rebecca would think when she learned from her son that Seth had encouraged him to become a doctor, an animal doctor at that. Would she be pleased? Or would it be another thing that he'd done she didn't approve of? Why did her approval matter to him? Seth didn't know why it mattered; he just realized that it did.

* * *

“Can you believe he was pretending to shoot them out of the saddle?” Rebecca asked Fay as she sewed a new button on one of the boy's shirts. She didn't give Fay a chance to answer. “He said he was teaching them how to use their horses as shields. Shields from what? Who would want to shoot at them?” She sighed in exasperation.

“Indians and robbers,” Fay suggested, knotting off her thread. Using her teeth, she broke the thread from the sock she'd just mended.

Rebecca frowned. The thought of her boys being shot at frightened the daylights out of her. But in the world they lived in and with the talk of war in the air, it might become a reality. She shuddered at the thought of war and her boys forced to fight. “Yes, you're right. What Seth teaches them is important, but still I worry.”

Fay stood up and stretched. “You wouldn't be much of a mother if you didn't worry,” she told Rebecca, rubbing her back. “You know, I'm tempted to go take a nap like Joy.”

“There is nothing stopping you from doing just that.” Rebecca smiled up at her. “You've earned it. You've worked since sunup this morning.”

“I'm not the only one who's worked hard today.” Fay covered a yawn then continued, “I'm looking forward to having that beef stew you tossed together this morning.”

Rebecca inhaled the aroma of thick beef-and-vegetable stew that filled the house. The wind blew against the house, making her shiver. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” she said, picking up another shirt. This one had a tear in the sleeve.

“I'm sure it will taste even better.”

Rebecca laughed and said, “Don't count on it. I've been known to make things that smelled wonderful but tasted like there might be skunk in it.” She threaded her needle and began patching the shirt.

Fay stood by the fireplace for a moment, yawned once more and then said, “Yes, I believe I will lay down for a few minutes. If you are sure you don't mind.”

“Not at all. I may close my eyes for a few, too,” she said to make the older woman feel better about needing a rest.

Fay left the room. Rebecca heard the bedroom door shut. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. How many times would the prayer come to her mind?
Lord, am I doing right by my boys?
Watching Seth point that rifle at Clayton had taken her breath away. What if he'd forgotten and had a bullet in the chamber? Then what?

Rebecca kept her eyes closed as she thought about the days ahead. She knew now that the Pony Express wasn't safe. John had warned her that the boys would be alone on the trail. He'd told her he'd need to teach them how to survive while delivering the mail. It hadn't seemed real not that long ago. But now she had a better understanding of what the job entailed and the reality stated danger in more ways than one.

Since her husband was deceased, Rebecca knew that if the boys were to continue working for the Pony Express, she'd have to trust Seth. They seemed so young, but the orphanage had declared them men at the age of twelve.

Rebecca reminded herself that they were all just a few years younger than herself, except Noah and Beni. At the age of twenty-eight she felt very old. Weariness seeped from her in the form of a heavy sigh.

Seth Armstrong seemed to be doing all he could to teach the boys how to survive the Pony Express. Every evening, he reported to her the day's events and how well they were learning. Even Jacob seemed to be coming around. Her oldest son had told her that he trusted Seth's decisions.

Could she trust the Pony Express man? How far was he willing to go to make the boys into men? Had it entered his mind to start out with an unloaded gun and then move on to a loaded one? Rebecca's eyes snapped open. That was the first question she intended to ask him this evening. She'd most certainly not have him pointing loaded rifles at her boys. That was where she'd draw the line and dare him to cross it.

Chapter Eleven

S
eth thought she was joking but the seriousness reflected in her eyes told him otherwise. “You think I'd point a loaded gun at them?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “How should I know what to think? When I came out to check on them this afternoon, you sure enough had a rifle pointed at their heads. I had no clue at the moment whether it was loaded or not.”

He inhaled deeply and slowly released the air in his lungs. “What do I have to do to get you to understand that I would never put your boys in unneeded danger?” He heard the creaking of Fay's rocker that sat across the room from them. Her Bible lay on her lap and she seemed to be absorbed in its words.

They'd moved their nightly discussion into the house. It was nice to have the older woman in the house. Seth felt thankful that Rebecca had another woman to talk to. Had she discussed her fears with Fay? Did Fay trust him to take care of the boys?

“I don't know how you can make me understand, but I do know that I thought I'd faint when I saw you pointing the gun at them.”

Seth turned to face her. “Would it have made you feel better if I'd told you last night exactly what my plans were in teaching them to avoid bullets?”

“Perhaps—at least I would have known you weren't going to shoot them. All you said last night was that you were going to teach them how to avoid bullets on horseback.” Rebecca walked to the fireplace. “I know you think I'm being difficult but I'm the only parent these boys have.”

Interfering parents was probably the biggest reason why the owners of the Pony Express had asked for orphans. Seth kept the thought to himself. “I understand your concerns and I'm willing to help you put them aside. I just need to know how.”

“Maybe you could let me know what you plan to do with the boys the night before you actually do it,” she suggested.

Half an hour later, Seth dashed across the yard to the bunkhouse. He was no closer to gaining Rebecca's trust than he'd been when he'd entered the house earlier. Hopefully, telling her his plans for the boys tomorrow had made her feel better.

Andrew looked up when Seth entered the bunkhouse. A quick glance around told Seth the other boys had gone off to their beds. He asked in a soft voice, “What are you still doing up, Andrew?”

The young man stood. “I was waiting for you.”

Seth motioned for Andrew to follow him into his room. Once they were both inside, he shut the door. “What can I do for you?”

“Clayton told me that Ma wasn't happy with you earlier today.”

Seth walked over to his bed and sat down. “He did, did he?”

“Yes, sir. I wanted to tell you not to get upset with Ma. She means well.”

Seth motioned for Andrew to sit down. When the boy had done so he answered, “I know she does, but your Ma has to let me run the Pony Express the way I see fit.”

“Yes, sir, but Ma is just afraid we'll get hurt or quit and she wouldn't be able to stand that.” Andrew looked down at his hands.

“Andrew, I am not going to hurt any of you boys. Everything I try to teach you is because I want to keep you from harm.” Seth felt as if he was having the same conversation with Andrew that he'd had with Rebecca moments earlier.

“Not physical hurt, Seth.”

Seth sat up straighter. “What kind of hurt?”

Andrew licked his dry lips. “In an orphanage there are many ways a child can be hurt. We all came from the orphanage and most of us wear the scars inside, where no one will see them. Ma doesn't want us to be hurt like that ever again.” Determination filled his eyes as he met Seth's. A harshness, whether from anger or bitterness, filled his voice. “Ma and I are those kinds of orphans and we will not allow the other boys or ourselves to ever be hurt like that again.”

Seth reached for his Bible, which rested on his nightstand beside the lamp.

“Don't tell me what that Good Book says or that you are a Christian and will never hurt us. I've met Christians before and I have scars to prove it.” Andrew jerked to his feet. He walked to the door with his head held high and his shoulders back. Just before he opened the door he said, “Seth, I'll ask you again not to be upset with Ma. She means well.”

The new information that Rebecca had been an orphan, too, explained why she was so protective of the boys and why she didn't trust him to keep his word, and also accounted for her need to have the boys close. Aware that Andrew waited for a reaction from him, Seth nodded.

It seemed to be what the young man was waiting for. Andrew gently shut the door behind him, leaving Seth to question God on how he could help this family. Especially since he had a promise to keep to his grandmother.

* * *

The next morning, Seth chose Thomas to spend time with. He wanted to know what the boy knew and understood about the Pony Express and he also wanted to know the boy better.

The mount Thomas had chosen was a spirited mustang. Thomas could only ride him a few minutes before he ended up on the ground.

A jagged scar marked the right side of his youthful face and Seth figured the eighteen-year-old had a story to tell. Blond hair seemed to constantly hang in the boy's laughing green eyes.

“Well, how am I doing?” Thomas asked. His dancing eyes looked up at Seth from where he sat on the ground.

Seth laughed. “Well, considering your horse just threw you and you can still smile about it, I'd say pretty good.” He reached down and offered the boy a hand up.

“Yeah, that's what I thought, too.”

Thomas seemed to enjoy everything life tossed at him, from getting thrown off of his horse, to mucking out stalls. The boy really seemed to take life one event at a time. “I should have chosen a more agreeable horse, I suppose.” He picked up his horse's reins and limped to the railing.

“Why did you choose this one?” Seth asked, following.

The boy looked over his shoulder at the compact black horse he'd chosen. “I suppose I liked his spirit. No matter how many times I get up on him to ride, he always proves that he might be little, but there is a lot of power in him.”

Seth thought about the boy's words for a moment as Thomas dusted off his pants. He watched Thomas rub the horse's nose as if to tell him he was forgiven for throwing him to the ground. “So what you are telling me is that you like that he is small, but has lots of energy and you want to give him a chance to prove himself?”

Thomas nodded. “Everyone needs a chance to prove themselves, even horses.” He reached up and rubbed the horse's velvety ears. “Isn't that right, boy?”

“You know, there is an easier way to let him get his energy out besides him flinging you to the ground like a sack of flour.” Seth leaned against the fence and smiled.

“How's that?” Thomas asked, looking interested.

Seth pushed away from the rails. “You could start by taking him on a fast ride. Wouldn't it be better to have wind in your hair instead of dirt in your drawers?”

Thomas laughed. “Sure would. I didn't think we were allowed to take them out without permission,” he admitted.

“Spirit is yours to do with as you see fit, to make him a good Pony Express horse. Just be courteous and let one of us know when you are going out.”

Thomas studied him. “You named him Spirit?”

Seth shrugged. “It seemed to fit at the moment, but he's your horse and you can name him whatever you want.”

“I thought more on the name Diablo, but Spirit works better.” Thomas grinned. “Can we take Spirit for a run now?”

“Let me get Sam and we'll go for a long hard ride.” Seth walked toward the barn, his thoughts filled with Thomas and what he'd learned from the boy. If he related to a spirited horse that he felt only wanted to prove himself, did that mean Thomas felt he had to prove himself to everyone around him, too?

Once more Seth felt the need to pray for the Young boys. They were orphans. Even though they were adopted by Rebecca and her deceased husband, in their hearts and minds they still felt like orphans and had many hurts to get through.

A few moments later, he and Thomas raced across the pasture. “Watch out for gopher holes,” Seth called to the rushing boy and horse.

Thomas nodded. His hat hung down his back, his blond hair waved in the wind. The scar down his face looked white against his tan skin.

How had Thomas obtained the scar? Had he been in a knife fight? Fallen on something sharp? There were so many unanswered questions about each of the boys. Someday, when they were better acquainted, he might start asking. An unwelcome tension entered Seth, right between the shoulder blades. He stretched in the saddle, seeking relief. Bit by bit, this family wormed their way into his thoughts and heart.

They rode on for several minutes. Seth slowed and allowed Thomas to speed ahead. The weather wasn't as cold as it had been the day before. He looked up into the sky and saw dark clouds coming in from the west.

Thomas pulled up beside him. “Looks like the weather might take a turn for the worse. Would it be all right with you if we stopped by the family cemetery before heading back?”

Seth glanced over at the boy. “Of course.” He followed Thomas across the meadow to a small wooded area.

They crossed the stream and continued through the woods to a quiet open area. Thomas stopped his horse and dismounted. “Papa John always said to walk in from here. He said it showed respect to those who have gone home before us.”

Sam came to a halt and Seth dismounted also. Seth followed Thomas the rest of the way. It would seem that at least one of the Young boys had learned respect from their adoptive father.

As they continued a short piece through the trees, silence surrounded them, although an occasional birdcall interrupted the peace of the woods. They came out of the trees into a small meadow. Three graves rested under a grove of cottonwood trees on a hill.

When they reached the top of the knoll, Seth could see the road that led to the farm. So this was where Rebecca's family had been laid to rest.

Thomas kneeled down on one knee beside the grave marked John Percival Young. He brushed sticks from the grave and sighed. “He was a great man.”

“I'm sure he was,” Seth replied, taking his hat off and holding it respectfully in his hands.

“In the five years I knew him, he never raised a hand to me or any of the boys.” Thomas stood and brushed his hands against his pant legs. “Someday, I want to build a fence around the graves to keep wild animals out of here.” He wiped the hair off his forehead.

Seth stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I'd be happy to help you build it.”

The two of them stood silently looking down on the graves. Seth read the names on the other two headstones and realized that these must be John's parents. They were older, the names and dates wearing off the wooden crosses. “We could also freshen up the crosses,” he suggested.

“I think Ma would like that,” Thomas agreed.

A big drop of water hit Seth on the bridge of his nose. “We better head back before the storm hits.” He touched his forehead slightly in a salute then slapped his hat back on his head.

Thomas nodded and turned to walk his horse down to the road. Seth kept a shoulder beneath his horse's neck, sheltering as best he could, but more drops of rain hit them both. Within minutes they were soaked through. The wind had turned cold while they'd been out riding and right now Seth wished he was back in his room, where warmth and dry clothes waited for him.

Once they were at the road, Thomas mounted his horse. “I'll race you back,” he challenged.

Seth climbed aboard Sam and nodded. “Ready.”

Together the two of them raced toward the barn. The horses' hooves beat a rapid rhythm against the wet ground. Seth lay close to his mount's back, urging him on to the barn. Rain pelted them, soaking both man and beast. Seth couldn't remember ever being so wet. When they got to the barn, Jacob met them in the doorway.

Both Seth and Thomas slid from their horses' backs. Thomas had won and the grin on his face spoke volumes of the pride he felt. Seth slapped him on the back. “Keep riding like that and you'll be a top-notch Pony Express rider,” he assured him.

Thomas's grin spread even farther across his scarred face. “Thanks.”

“I'll take care of Sam for you,” Jacob offered, reaching for the reins. “Ma would like to see you in the house.”

“Did she say what she wanted to see me about?” Seth asked, handing the reins over.

Jacob shook his head. “Nope. Just said to ask you to come inside when you and Thomas got back.”

Seth looked out into the pouring rain. Within the past few minutes, it had created what looked like a small river through the middle of the front yard. He didn't look forward to getting even wetter, but the sooner he spoke to Rebecca, the sooner he could go to his room and get dry.

He looked at Thomas, who already held a towel and was drying his mount. “Thomas, do that quickly and get into some dry clothes. I don't want you getting sick.”

The boy nodded and continued talking softly to the horse.

“Thanks for taking care of Sam,” Seth said to Jacob, then took a deep breath and dashed into the freezing rain. Surely the temperature had dropped—the rain hadn't felt this cold earlier. His boots slid in the mud and water. He'd be glad when the early spring rains stopped and summer started.

Rebecca met him on the porch. “You didn't have to run in the rain,” she scolded, offering him a towel to dry off with.

He ran the cloth over his arms and neck, not appreciating her annoying tone. “What did you need to see me about?”

“I wondered if you could take one of the boys out hunting tomorrow or the next day,” she answered, not bothering to hide her irritation at his gruff attitude.

Fay stepped out onto the porch. “You two stop snapping at each other and get in here where it's warmer.”