The Christmas Message
By Badgergater
Summary: A tiny bit of holiday fluff from our favorite cowboys
Author's Note: Thanks as always to Hired Hand for the excellent beta.
**LARAMIE ** LARAMIE ** LARAMIE** LARAMIE**
To all the family and friends of the Sherman Ranch,
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
It's been another hectic year here at the ranch and stage station. I know I should write an individual letter to each of you but dadgum, there just aren't enough hours in the day to get all the chores done, keep the stages running, do the ranch accounts, and keep Jess out of trouble, let alone find time to write. So I hope you won't be offended by my writing just this one letter, and having the printer down at the Laramie Gazette make up copies to send out. Sure will save me a whole bunch of time… and broken pencils.
The ranch is thriving despite all the hardships and trouble we seem to always find ourselves knee deep in. We had a mild winter so the cattle did well. Spring rains were plentiful, and the summer grass held out real good. Our herd grew fat and sleek, but cattle prices were a mite low come fall when it was time to sell. Still, we made enough profit to make our mortgage payments, buy grub, cartridges and other necessities, and keep the roof over our heads, even if it does get leaky in a downpour.
One of the good colts we raised won the Laramie Founders Day quarter-mile race this year. And a Hereford bull calf born here on the ranch took first prize at the Cheyenne stock exposition this fall. We are making a good name for ourselves among Wyoming ranchers as quality stock raisers.
My year was sorta tame by past standards. No showdowns with gunslingers, Indian raids, stampedes or whirlwinds marred the past twelve months. I am still a director of the Overland Stage Line which takes up a lot of my time, and I did manage to get myself elected to the local school board—as if I needed one more job to keep me awake at night. It did give me an advantage when it came to courting the pretty new school marm we hired last summer, but she up and married the new local doctor. I guess he makes a pile more money than a poor rancher like me— a lot of it from patching up Jess and me, or so it seems.
Now Jess, he had himself another interesting year but then we all know that's the usual for him. He left the ranch just three times this year—I think that may be a record low. Once was for a successful manhunt with our good friend Mort Cory, who's still the Laramie sheriff. They brought back the owlhoots who stole a string of good horses from the Haley Ranch up by Laramie Peak, and Jess only had to shoot two of them. The second time was a passel more serious. Another one of Jess' bad old friends (something he surely has in abundance) showed up needing help—as they all do—and he went gallivanting off to Chugwater to help out. He came back with only one bullet hole in him this time — nothing serious as it turned out, just another scar for his collection — and didn't get himself arrested so much as once, which may be a first for him. His third trip was over to Kansas on a stock deal, where he made a good bargain on four new teams for the stage line. Jess sure can pick good horse flesh. And wonder of all wonders, no one stole the horses, robbed him or put any new holes in him on the whole trip. He said it was downright boring.
Daisy is still smiling because she won first prize, again, at the Fourth of July pie-making contest in Laramie, which gives her bragging rights among the women folk for the whole year. Of course, she baked so many practice pies that I was afraid we'd all of us have to go buy us new britches, a size bigger.
Mike is sure growing up fast and doing real well in school- other than putting a frog in the desk of the new teacher, which got him sent home the very first day of classes. He's not much for reading but he is good at sums. And he likes recess a lot. We're proud to say he hit five home runs at the school picnic baseball game last spring. And he caught the biggest trout anyone's ever pulled out of Stone Creek. He was mighty happy about that— that boy does love to fish.
Andy is continuing his studies in St. Louis, though he hasn't decided yet if he wants to be a doctor or a lawyer. Either of those professions would be fine by me—his services would come in plenty handy for those of us out here on the ranch. Seems like Jess and me are always needin' to get patched up from one fracas or another, or requiring the services of a good lawyer to keep us out of the hoosegow. I get good reports from his teachers, which makes me real pleased. It's a strain on the finances to keep him in that fancy school, but it's the right thing to do in memory of our folks, who always wanted the best for him. We'll talk it over when he gets home in a few days— as I write this he's traveling out to visit us for the holidays and should be arriving on the stage tomorrow. He's grown so much I hope I still recognize him.
Jonesy didn't make it home to the ranch for a visit this year. He's still in St. Louis keeping tabs on Andy, but he has slowed down a bit. Traveling such a long distance aggravates his sacroiliac, which has bothered him for about as many years as I can remember.
So on Christmas Day we'll be gathering to celebrate once again—me, Jess, Daisy, Andy, Mike and Mort Cory (providing there's no rambunctiousness going on in town that day to keep the sheriff too busy). We'll enjoy Daisy's good cooking, open some gifts, and reminisce about the years and how fast they're passing us by.
We all hope you, too, will have a holiday filled with the blessings of family, friends, good wishes and good food.
Ever yours, Slim Sherman
Laramie, Wyoming, Dec. 14, 1875
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