***Making the house livable was not as difficult as it had first appeared, as long as they didn't mind putting up with a degree of unsightly, makeshift repairs that were functional if not attractive. They planned to slowly replace and repair those areas as time and finances permitted, between efforts to build up a herd of cattle and look into domesticating wild horses that roamed some areas in large herds. Uncertain which venture would be the most profitable, they decided to try both at first, giving them at least a year or two of effort before deciding on a permanent course of action.
Two days after their arrival back in Cascade, William and Stephen Ellison both came to the Ranch to greet their long absent son\brother. Blair had retired early to his room, but despite that he heard the Ellisons' voices raised angrily long into the night, though he didn't hear the two men finally leave. The next morning Jim refused to comment, saying only that they would not be bothering them anymore; which turned out to be true enough - it was three years before Stephen spoke to his older brother again, and four years before William spoke to his eldest son.
Attempts to arrange the purchase of a 'starter' herd of cattle locally met with no success, so Jim and Blair had no choice but to go to California to buy the animals. Once in the Lake Tahoe area, Jim made some quiet inquiries, soon locating another old acquaintance of his, a man about his age whose family ran a prosperous ranch in the mountains near a crystal clear lake.
"Jim Ellison, you old dog! I can't believe it took you six damned years to take me up on my offer to visit!" The boisterous greeting came from a dark-haired man who came to the door, grinning at the Sentinel with obvious delight.
"Adam, it's good to see you! And maybe if you didn't hide yourself away in the mountains folks would come by more often," Jim grinned, shaking the proffered hand enthusiastically. "This is my friend and business partner, Blair Sandburg. Blair, this is Adam Cartwright. Do NOT engage in a 'friendly' game of poker with him, no matter how nicely he asks."
"Now, Jim, what kind of comment is that to make? You're not still sore about that $50 are you?" Cartwright's grin got impossibly wider.
"It was $76.50, and not at all," Ellison countered. "And I'm sure I can arrange to get it back while we're here."
"More likely I can arrange to make it a nice, even $100," Adam concluded, winking at Blair conspiratorially. "Though I doubt that's why you're here. What can I do for you, Jim?" The teasing light was gone, replaced by genuine concern.
"It's not like that, Adam," Jim reassured him, seeing the look on his friend's face. "I've decided to settle down in Cascade, and run the ranch like an actual business, and find myself in need of some stock. I was hoping you would have some for sale, or if not, knew where we could find some."
"Not a problem. We don't usually sell cattle this time of year, but we can make an exception if you're not looking for too many?"
"Say fifty head or so? Enough to get started. And a good bull, if possible. It's just me and Blair to herd them, so that should be enough to get Prospect Ranch started. What do you think?" Ellison replied.
"I think we can probably do business," Adam grinned, shaking Jim's hand with a smile. "Let me go speak to Pa, then I'll show you two around."
The young man left Jim and Blair on the wide porch, where they watched the bustling activity around the nearby barn and corrals. The sound of a throat being cleared behind them got their attention a few minutes later.
"Jim, Blair, this is my father, Ben Cartwright. Pa, this is Jim Ellison, the fella I met in Seattle a few years ago, I told you about. And his friend, Blair Sandburg." Adam's father looked over the two newcomers with sharp eyes, his piercing gaze missing nothing.
"I've looked forward to meeting you," the elder man said to Jim, gripping his hand firmly. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for what you did for my son."
"There is no debt involved," Ellison replied formally, his expression solemn. "He would have done the same for me."
"That's true, but if I recall the facts correctly, you had no way of knowing that at the time. And regardless, Adam might have been killed if not for your actions." Ben paused, considering the tall man in front of him before nodding slightly. "I thank you."
Ellison remembered Adam's comments about his father, the man's stubbornness, and decided there was really only one reply that would be accepted. "You're welcome," he said with equal dignity, his respect for this man almost instinctive. He doubted few ever won a battle of wills against Ben Cartwright.
"Now that that's settled, Adam tells me you're looking for some cattle to start a herd. That'll pose no problem at all. In fact, I've already taken the liberty of sending a couple of men to round up fifty head for you to look over tomorrow. The cattle have already been bred, so next spring your herd will double automatically," the rancher grinned, looking pleased with himself. "You'll do us the honor of staying here tonight?" he offered, gesturing to the large house.
"Jim, make it easy on yourself, just say yes," Adam smirked; his eyes smiling. "Takes less time that way. We've got plenty of room, and Hop Sing is already expecting extras for dinner. Come on, bring your things inside and take a look around."
Before they could even begin to protest, provided they'd actually wanted to, the two citizens of Cascade found themselves ensconced in a spacious bedroom with two large beds, a basin of warm water standing by so they could freshen up a little.
"How'd you save Adam's life?" Blair asked quietly when they were alone.
"It wasn't that big a deal," the Sentinel demurred, waving his hand dismissively. "He made the mistake of winning a little too much playing poker, while also drinking too much. A couple of sore losers thought to get their money back. I helped them change their minds," he shrugged.
Blair snorted in amusement. "Were either of them conscious when they made this 'decision'?"
"One was," Jim grinned back, bringing a full laugh from his companion. "Anyway, once he sobered up, Adam and I ended up becoming friends. He told me all about this wonderful ranch he grew up on; I'm glad to find out it really exists."
"Yeah. Well, let's go see this amazing place, huh?" the smaller man suggested, already heading toward the door. "Maybe give us some ideas how to build up Prospect Ranch."
Adam met them at the foot of the stairs with two other young men who bore virtually no resemblance to him.
"Jim, Blair, this here's my younger brother, Hoss," he said, indicating a tall, stocky man with a round face and disarmingly open grin. His handshake was enthusiastic and accompanied by his pleasant greeting.
"It's good to meet you fellas!"
"And this is our youngest brother, Little Joe," Adam finished. Joe smiled at the two men, but his expression was a bit more reserved than his older brother's. Only slightly taller than Blair, the youngest Cartwright was a good looking man, with thick curly hair and striking eyes.
The next few hours were spent looking over the thriving ranch, with both Jim and Blair asking dozens of questions of the brothers. Since the weather and conditions at the Ponderosa were much like those in Cascade, they got a lot of excellent advice on preparing for the rainy season. By the time they left the next afternoon they had a firm plan for the coming year, fifty-three head of pregnant cattle, two additional saddle horses, and a week's worth of food courtesy of Hop Sing, who'd hit it off immediately with Blair.
They'd allowed themselves plenty of time for the trip back, which was a good thing since the cattle's condition did not allow for a quick pace. Two days away from the Ponderosa, in an open desert area of Nevada, Jim stopped suddenly, his gaze turned toward the south.
"What is it, Jim? What do you hear?" Blair asked, riding up alongside his Sentinel and placing a hand on the broad back, grounding him.
"Not hear. Smell. Smoke. Old, but too much for just a camp fire."
"Try following the smell with your vision, like Tachopey taught us. Just relax and let it go, I'll keep you from going too far. Just take some nice, deep breaths..." Blair's voice trailed away as Jim followed his instructions, the big body stiff and still.
"It's no good," Jim sighed, coming back to himself abruptly. "There are too many hills and hollows. Let's head over that way, maybe if we get closer I can figure it out without having to go too far out of our way," Ellison suggested.
"Sure," Sandburg agreed, moving into position to turn the herd. Already they were becoming adept at maneuvering the cattle while keeping them in a close group. An hour later Jim called another halt, his expression tight with emotion.
"It's stronger, and it's...it's not a good smell. I've smelled that before, during the war. When buildings were burned..." he began, then hesitated, wondering if this was really something his younger friend needed to know. But Blair was watching him with a curious expression, silently urging him to continue.
"When buildings were burned and the people were still...inside. Look, I'll go check it out, you stay with the cattle," the Sentinel decided at last.
"I don't think so, Jim. We'll both go. You heard them, the herd will be okay for a little while without us. And I don't want you zoning on me." The younger man looked a little apprehensive but determined.
"Blair, this could very well be an Indian attack. If so...it could be very ugly," Ellison tried to dissuade him.
"We're wasting time," Blair countered, already moving in the direction Jim had been looking.
Giving a sigh of defeat, even though he was secretly glad to have Blair along, he spurred his horse on ahead of his impetuous Guide. He crested a small rise, then stopped, barely hearing Sandburg's gasp of dismay behind him.
"Oh, my God."
Below them were the remains of a wagon train, all but three reduced to blackened piles of debris, still in the rough circle they'd formed, probably in defense against the attack. Even from this distance they could see the sprawled bodies scattered about, looking like life-size dolls abandoned in mid play by a giant child. The vultures circling the area, startled off by Jim and Blair's approach, shattered that illusion.
"Any signs of life?" Blair queried in a soft voice, his face already showing a faint green tinge as his breakfast stirred restlessly.
"I haven't seen any sign of movement. Stop a moment and let me try hearing."
The bigger man sat straight in his saddle, his handsome face tight with concentration as he stretched out his hearing, going past the faint whisper of the nearly non-existent breeze and the gritty sound of small creatures darting amongst the scattered sagebrush. Moving his focus beyond the ruined wagons he sought signs of survivors or remaining attackers, not actually expecting to find either since it had obviously been a couple of days since the attack.
So the drumming of multiple heartbeats startled the Sentinel, who immediately turned his horse to skirt the attack site and go over the slight rise beyond it.
"What is it, Jim? What do you hear?" Blair spoke in a whisper in deference to his Sentinel's increased hearing.
"There are some people beyond this rise. The heartbeats are muted, like they're inside a building or underground, four or five of them, I think. Dismount here and we'll go the rest of the way on foot. You stay behind me, Chief, and do exactly what I tell you to," Ellison instructed the younger man with a stern look.
"Don't I always?" Sandburg asked, then recoiled at the look Jim gave him. "Okay, okay, never mind. Dumb question."
"Quiet."
Ellison paused, studying the small canyon before them. The near side was a steep down-slope leading to a narrow floor before ending in a vertical rock cliff. Even Blair could pick out several openings that were most likely natural caves along the lower area of the cliff.
Jim listened intently, then moved forward with a sure step, stopping by a surprisingly small opening. He stood still, his posture one of intense concentration, then he knelt down by the opening.
"Come on out, it's safe now," he called out in a gentle voice.
Blair looked questioningly at him, having heard the faint sounds of voices but not having been able to distinguish what had been said.
"Come on, we have food and water. We'll take care of you," Jim continued to coax the occupants out, eventually rewarded by the appearance of a small Negro boy, who gazed up at Jim fearfully.
"Bad men gone?" he asked in a trembling voice.
"Yes. They're gone. My name is Jim Ellison, this is my friend, Blair Sandburg. We won't hurt you. We want to help. Will you let us help you?"
Despite his obvious fear the small boy studied Jim and Blair carefully, until another voice, higher and softer than his, came from the cave.
"Zack? Is it okay? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Trini, you can come out. They're okay, I think. Maybe they can help Tanya and Adam," the youngster replied, looking toward the opening and biting his lip in concern.
Moments later a small Asian girl crawled out, helping an equally young black girl out with her. Another Negro girl followed with an injured Asian boy, then the group of children huddled together looking at the two men with haunted eyes. They were filthy and thin, none of them more than five or six years old, though they gave the impression of having seen things adults would hardly be able to cope with.
"Zack? Why don't you tell me your friends' names, and maybe Blair here can look them over, make them feel a little better." Jim took care not to boss the youngsters around, instinctively knowing they needed to feel a little 'in charge' for a while longer until the two men had earned their trust.
"I'm Zackary Taylor," the boy said, obviously well coached, as he gave his full name. "My family is free. Aisha is my cousin. That's Trini and Adam," he added, indicating the two Asian youngsters. "Adam cut his leg when we hid from the bad men and Tanya was getting sick before the…before the bad men came," he added hesitantly.
"We're free, too," Tanya spoke up proudly, even though she was shivering with fever. "My daddy said so."
"Indeed you are," Sandburg agreed, looking at his companion worriedly. "Jim, would you mind getting the horses, I have some supplies I need in my saddlebags."
The older man nodded and strode back to where they'd stashed their mounts. Blair was distracted by a light tugging sensation on his right leg, and looked down into the fever-bright eyes of the boy introduced as Adam. "Mister? I'm hungry, do you have any food?" came the timid request, the child's pinched face expressing both apprehension and hope.
Sandburg's heart constricted painfully as he knelt down by the small boy and his friends. "We have plenty of food, Adam. And we'll make a good dinner for all of you in just a little while, okay? I'm going to take a look at your leg now, so just lay still for a bit. Wow, this is a good bandaging job," the young man continued, carefully unwrapping the injury.
He glanced around and caught a gleam of pride in Aisha's dark eyes, correctly interpreting it to mean the little girl had been the one who had bandaged the leg. Blair was struck by the magnitude of what these children had done; they'd managed to survive on their own, even though one was ill and another injured, and even though they must have known their families were lying dead just over the low hill. They hadn't panicked and tried to run, nor abandoned those who couldn't take care of themselves, nor given up and let themselves die. They'd tended the wounded, found water, and waited in safety for rescue. Amazing for children so young.
He was roused from his thoughts by Jim's return. As the Sentinel approached the cave Blair rose to meet him, the two adults conferring in hushed voices.
"We need to set up camp soon," Blair said with a glance back at the children. "Adam's injury needs to be thoroughly cleaned, which I can guarantee he won't much like. Tanya needs some medicine, as does Adam, for that matter, which unfortunately I don't have with me, so we also need to stop at the nearest town. They all need a few good meals, and a bath would most likely be a good idea, too. And, of course, there's the whole situation with their parents and the others on the wagons. We need to report that to someone, don't we?"
"Yeah," Jim sighed, looking around critically. "This isn't the perfect location, but it will do for camp. Plus the cattle will be contained here in the canyon. Go ahead and set up camp here, and take care of the kids. I'll move the cattle in, and get a closer look at what's left of the wagons. We should at least bury those folks, I guess. See what the kids know about the attack, and once they're settled down you can give me a hand," Ellison's voice trailed off as he continued to contemplate all the things that needed to be done, his gaze again falling on the small cluster of children huddled together and watching the men with wary eyes.
"Something tells me we're going to be pretty busy with this group," the older man concluded.
TSTSTS
"Jim? Jim!" Sandburg's voice cut through the older man's thoughts, bringing his attention to his companion. "What were you zoning on?"
"I wasn't zoning, Sandburg, I was just thinking. And don't even THINK of saying it," he warned the younger man, holding up a cautioning finger and catching Blair in mid word.
"Who? Me? I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about," Blair smirked, playing along with the familiar game, even though neither man's heart was really in it. Jim was standing in a hip deep trench, stripped to the waist, his muscular chest gleaming with sweat from his exertions. He had spent the last couple of hours laboring on the common grave, while Blair patiently gathered stones to cover it when they finished. The worst was still to come, they knew, when they would collect all the desecrated bodies and lay them to rest together.
According to what the children had told Blair, a story backed up by the evidence Jim saw around the wagons, the attackers had not been Indians, as they had first suspected, but white men. Driven by greed, and possibly racial hatred, they'd waited until the wagons were far from any town before launching their attack just at sunset.
Caught unprepared, with nearly all of them sitting around the large campfire, relaxing after dinner, the attack was fast, furious, and very effective. With cruel efficiency they killed every last man, woman, and child there, looting the wagons for valuables before setting fire to them. Less than a half hour after firing the first shot the men rode off laden with supplies and horses, leaving behind thirty-eight bodies for the predators to snack on under the unforgiving desert sky.
The five children Jim and Blair found had wandered off after dinner, playing their favorite game of hide and seek. It was Aisha who had found the small cave to hide in, not realizing she wouldn't be able to hear the others unless they were right by the entrance. A very competitive child, she was determined to win the game, so she stayed hidden, unaware of the other four youngsters' frantic attempts to find her, until it was nearly dark outside.
Emerging at last she was startled to hear gunfire, and hurried in the direction of the camp, nearly stumbling over the other four who were hidden amongst the brush near the top of the rise, watching the flurry of activity around the burning wagons.
"Mama! Papa!" she cried out, making as if to rush forward, only to be grabbed in a bear hug by her cousin Zack.
"No, Isha," he said to the frantically struggling little girl, using his pet nickname for her. "'Member what we were told to do? We have to hide until they tell us it's safe."
"Nooo. Mama," she sobbed, but she stopped her struggles nonetheless. All the children had been told repeatedly, sternly, that they were to hide, if at all possible, if the wagon train was attacked. There had been one other time when they believed they were under attack, and the parents had managed to get all the children to a hiding spot before things got dangerous. Even though that first time had been a false alarm, three of the older children had been publicly thrashed for leaving the hiding place prematurely. It was a lesson ALL the children remembered.
It was mid morning the next day before the children dared to leave their hiding places amongst the bushes and creep back to the now smoldering wagons. Their cries of terror and grief drew no response, and it was only shortly thereafter that they took refuge in the cave Aisha had discovered. Other than Zack and Trini making a few trips to the nearby waterhole to fill their one canteen, they had not left the cave in two days.
TSTSTS
"...And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen." Jim's powerful voice was echoed by the five smaller ones; the children standing in a solemn line beside the large grave that marked the final resting place for their families. Ellison had managed to salvage enough timber to fashion a large cross, and Blair had spent several hours painstakingly carving the family names on it. The simple service, Christian in nature, may not have been completely appropriate for some of the deceased, but none of the five survivors were likely to complain. And it was the best the two men could offer in the way of homage to the men, women, and children who had lost their lives for the unpardonable sin of being born different.
It was Trini, the most articulate of the children, who had explained that the families in this particular wagon train were freed slaves and former railroad workers determined to build new lives in the more tolerant West. They had been headed ultimately toward San Francisco, where they planned to purchase small plots of land abutting each other, which they could work together. None of the children knew of any surviving family that could take them in now, though both adults realized that given the ages of the kids there was a possibility there might be family they simply hadn't met or didn't remember.
Ellison had used parts from the partially unburned wagons to fashion one functioning wagon, which could be pulled by the spare horses. There was nothing left of any value to be salvaged, so after the simple funeral, the two men loaded their five charges into the wagon, and with Blair at the reins, set out for the nearest settlement. Jim stayed with the herd while Sandburg took the kids into town to see the doctor, and to report the attack. It was nearly four hours before he returned to find a worried Sentinel waiting for him.
"I was about to ride into town myself to find you," he hissed at Blair as the three healthy youngsters climbed off the wagon. "Was something wrong?"
"The doctor was wrong, that's what," Blair whispered back, casting a worried glance at Adam and Tanya who were both obviously asleep. "He seemed to think these patients were beneath him. I convinced him otherwise."
"Do I need to reinforce your lesson, Chief?" Jim asked softly, his own gaze taking in the two young innocents sleeping deeply despite the long ride in the admittedly rickety wagon.
"It's fine now, Jim, let it go. I got the medicines I need, and reported the attack. The sheriff seems concerned enough, he'll at least send out notices about it. Nothing much else he can do at this point, really. Look, it's been a kinda rough day for these two, how about we set up camp nearby and let them rest? Oh, and I found out the nearest orphanage is about two days ride. The local one is full…over full, actually. It's been a bad couple of years," Blair sighed.
"Okay, there's a small stream just over that ridge, we can set up camp near there," the older man replied, his mind obviously elsewhere. Blair waited for Jim to tell him what was on his mind, but the Sentinel just mounted up and began to move the herd out as his Guide collected the kids and set out in his wake.
TSTSTS
Two days later they found themselves leaving the office of the Saint Christopher's Little Traveler's Home, frustrated and discouraged. Despite the grand name, it was a small orphanage, understaffed and over crowded, located on the outskirts of a mining town that had sprung up almost overnight. The man in charge, one Deke Smithers, had been sympathetic, but firm in his refusal to take on any additional children.
"Gentlemen, look around you. There's simply no more room here. I have more children than I should already. If I take in five more, who is going to give up part of their dinner so the new kids can eat? Who's going to have to give up their bed? Their clothes? No, I have to give first consideration to the youngsters I already have. We have too little of everything already, I simply can't stretch it any further. I wish I could help you, I really do, but I can't. Try some of the larger towns, you may have more luck there," the man concluded, his eyes showing his sincere regret.
"We understand," Jim replied with a sigh as he rose to his feet. "Thanks for your time."
"Jim, what are we going to do? We can't go traipsing into large towns with the herd, and besides if I recall the route you chose, we won't actually get that near any big towns," Blair queried, plopping his hat back on his head as they walked back to their horses.
"Might be best to take the kids back to Cascade, get the cattle settled, and have the local minister help us find an orphanage that can take the kids," the Sentinel suggested even as he whistled to get the children's attention and signaled them toward their waiting wagon.
"Sounds fine to me, I'm getting kind of attached to them," Blair grinned, walking over to tie his saddle horse to the wagon as the children swarmed into it. Adam was still limping, but otherwise recovering quickly, and Tanya was nearly over her illness as well.
Jim just sighed softly and mounted his horse, his thoughts troubled as he get the cattle moving once again.
TSTSTS
The Sentinel stirred from his rest that night, instantly on the alert, wondering what it was that had set off his internal alarms. All seemed quiet enough, his Guide slept peacefully beside him, the children were asleep on the far side of the fire.
Or were they?
He got up with the silent grace of his spirit animal and moved over to check the small forms, finding four of them were as asleep as he'd thought. But Aisha was awake, tears running down dusky cheeks as she pulled in another softly gasping breath.
"Oh, come on, Sweetie," the big man said gently, picking the little girl up with infinite care and moving back to sit near the fire with the small figure held close on his lap. "Shhh, shhhh…it's okay. It'll all be okay," he tried to soothe her.
Blair had talked to Jim about the fact that all the children would be grieving for quite some time, now that the first trauma and shock had begun to fade. Their youth was on their side, but what had happened had been horrendous, it was only natural that they would have a lot of healing to do. So far there had been the occasional bout of tears, and even rarer bout of temper, all of which had been handled with deft compassion by Blair. If the children had been crying at night, Jim hadn't been aware of it until this time. He couldn't just let the girl cry alone, he could not have lain there and listened to the sounds of a child's grief without offering whatever small comfort he could.
"I want my Mama," Aisha gasped out raggedly, her grief increasing though the sobs were still soft. "I want to go home."
"I know, I know, Baby. I wish I could give that to you, I really do," Jim crooned back in a gentle whisper, rocking the youngster as he spoke.
The little girl continued to cry softly for a time, small arms wrapped securely around one muscular bicep, her face hidden against a broad shoulder. Finally sniffling a bit, she drew back and fixed the Sentinel with huge brown eyes, still swimming in unshed tears. "Can you and Mr. Blair keep us?" she asked with painfully innocent trust.
Jim found himself stumbling for words, his unease apparent enough even to his young companion, who sighed sadly in defeat and whispered more to herself than to Jim: "Doesn't anyone want us?"
Ellison gathered her closer and gently ran his big hand down her long, curly hair, as he tried to reassure her. "Of course you're wanted, Aisha. We're going to find a place for you all, I swear. A place where you can be happy. I promise." It was a sacred vow to the Sentinel; that he would do right by these children.
Aisha made no reply to his words, only held on until sleep finally loosened her grip. Feeling the small body relax at last, Jim carefully carried her back to her bed and settled her under the blankets, resting his hand again on the curl covered head in silent benediction. Satisfied that the girl was truly asleep again, and the rest of the children continued their slumber undisturbed, he went back to his own bedroll. But instead of lying down to sleep, he sat straight and tall, staring into the fire with unseeing eyes as he pondered the children's situation and considered the possible options.
TSTSTS
The rest of the trip home was mercifully uneventful, and by the time they'd gotten the cattle safely in the pasture, and arranged Blair's bedroom as a temporary bedroom for the children, it was too late to do much of anything except eat a quick dinner before the youngsters started drooping toward sleep.
Walking downstairs from his last check on the now sleeping kids, Blair found his Sentinel pacing the perimeter of the living room restlessly, stopping occasionally to look around as if visualizing something.
"What're you doing, Jim?" the younger man asked curiously as Ellison paused once again.
"I was just thinking, Chief. What if we knocked out the back wall of this closet, and expanded it outward to make a large room? And we could put a door in this wall here, and build on a large room on this side as well," Jim explained, indicating places on opposite sides of the spacious room. "We could even partition it off in the large rooms, so each kid has his own 'room' of his own, you know? And could hire a woman to help out, so it would be more respectable like since we have girls and boys together. What do you think?"
"Jim, do you mean…you think we should…keep them? Raise them here?" Blair asked, a desperate hope dawning on his expressive face.
"Yeah, why not? It feels RIGHT, you know? Ever since we picked them up, it just feels right. Like what I'm…we're…supposed to do. I don't know, maybe I've just seen too much death in the last few years, but I like the idea of providing a LIFE for someone, if that makes sense," the older man concluded, still trying to find the right words.
"Oh, yeah, Jim it makes sense. And believe me, I'm behind you 100%. I was really dreading the idea of giving these guys up," Sandburg all but bounced in his enthusiasm. "In the meantime we can leave them in my old room for now. I can use this small one down here. We need to take them to town tomorrow, get more clothes, supplies. And I should look at planting a bigger vegetable garden, maybe we should get some chickens, for eggs and meat, you know? And…" he paused, seeing the grin on his friend's face. "What?"
"Just wondering when you were planning to start breathing again, Junior. It's been a long trip, let's call it a day for now, and tomorrow we can start in on all the work that we need to do," Ellison advised his partner, even as Blair pulled out a precious piece of paper and began a list of things they would need. Sighing in fond exasperation the Sentinel watched his Guide distractedly wander toward his temporary bedroom, still muttering under his breath.
"Good night, Chief," he called out softly, then headed up the stairs to his own room, his mind refusing to heed his orders to cease and desist, insisting instead on imagining a future filled with life and growth, instead of death and despair as the last few years had been***
Simon Banks showed up for dinner that evening with a dozen licorice sticks, which he handed out to the children after dinner, giving the extra one to the biggest kid of all.
"Hannah, if you ever decide to leave this madhouse, I could use a woman like you myself. Darryl complains about my cooking when he stays with me, claims I'm trying to poison him," Simon declared grandly to Hannah as he sat back and patted his stomach in satisfaction.
"Tempting as that offer is, Simon, I think I'll stay here. I've got a few children to raise," she noted, with a pointed look at Jim, who was savoring his licorice stick with the same devotion Banks showed to his finest cigars.
Blair chortled at Hannah's comment, but Jim simply raised a questioning eyebrow at the woman who showed not one whit of remorse about the implication of her comment. The children scurried around cleaning up the dinner dishes, and straightening up in general, before retiring to their rooms for some quiet play time before bed. Left alone, safe from small ears, Simon turned to Jim as the four adults settled in the far side of the living room.
"So, what's the story you couldn't tell in front of the youngsters?" he asked pointedly.
Speaking softly while keeping an ear out for the kids, Jim filled Hannah and Simon in on the details they'd omitted around the children, including Serena's information about Billy's father and the degree of abuse the boy had suffered.
"Thank the good Lord you heard him," Hannah said with quiet fervor, rocking slowly and knitting as she spoke. She was a woman who liked to keep busy.
"Yeah," Blair agreed softly, looking at Jim with an undecipherable look.
"Any news around here we should know about, Simon?" Ellison asked, ready to change the subject.
"Well, your neighbors, the Kaplans, have left," the sheriff replied, settling back comfortably in his chair and savoring his after dinner glass of brandy.
"Victor and Edith moved? Since when? I thought they were happy here, Edith even got some starter plants for an herb garden from me," Blair exclaimed in surprise. It came as no surprise to anyone that Blair would know the couple by their first name, he made friends with literally everyone, it seemed.
"It was that blasted Gaylord Zedd that did it," Hannah all but growled, stabbing her knitting needle in Simon's direction to make her point.
"I asked them, and they said Zedd wasn't behind it. They just felt it was 'time to move on,'" Banks countered.
"'Time to move on,'" the blunt woman repeated angrily. "Time to move on after they had several cattle die from eating poisonous plants, had their fences cut time and again, had cattle get caught in the barbed wire and cut to ribbons. And my, my, what about those crops that got trampled when their cattle somehow got loose in the garden? Yeah, it was time to move on, alright," Hanna scoffed, frowning in consternation.
"Mr. Kaplan did not officially report any of that," the sheriff insisted wearily. "I asked him several times, gave him every chance. Legally there was nothing I could do. They didn't have any proof, and they weren't willing to sign a complaint. My hands are legally tied."
"Why would Gaylord Zedd want the small holding the Kaplans had?" Blair wondered, his face thoughtful. The Kaplan's farm had been only half the size of Prospect Ranch.
There was a pause as the four adults considered the situation, realization gradually dawning on Simon's face. "He's buying up everyone, I can't think of any more small holdings on this side of Cascade, excepting Prospect Ranch," he announced.
"The Martins?" Blair asked with a puzzled frown.
"They left a month ago."
"Old Cody McClurey?" Jim queried.
"Geez, Jim, he died four months ago. No heirs, Zedd got it for a song."
"Should we be worried?" Hannah wanted to know, fixing Simon with an unwavering gaze.
"Legally, I'd have to say, no. There's no been crime committed-officially. But as your friend? Yes, you may very well have reason to worry. I'll spread the word to my deputies, have them mosey on out this way more often. You see anything amiss, don't just deal with it, Jim, but get me here, too. I mean it, Ellison," the big sheriff said sternly, his glare pinning the younger man to his seat. "You take the law in your own hands, and these kids of yours will be the ones who suffer when I end up arresting you."
"You have my word, Simon. Unless it's an immediate matter of life and death, I won't make any moves against Zedd, should he start trying to 'convince' us to move," the Sentinel promised. "Unless I tell you first."
Simon gave Jim a withering look. "Nice try, Ellison, but no dice. Do NOT make a move on him. Let me do my job, for God's sake."
"Fine, fine. You have my word," Jim growled, less than happy with the conversation. "But if things get rough, you'll get an extra deputy."
"Let's not borrow trouble, okay Big Guy? Maybe we're just jumping the gun. The Zedds have been around quite a while now, and haven't caused any real problems. Don't go getting all stirred up over nothing," Sandburg advised in a soothing voice. "The kids will pick up on it, and they don't need to be subjected to any worry about our neighbors."
"I said fine, Sandburg. And as long as they don't try anything, it will BE fine. Simon, you ready for another brandy?" Ellison asked pointedly changing the subject.
"No, thanks, Jim. I should be heading back to town. Thanks for the excellent dinner Hannah," he added as he stood up, accompanied by Ellison and Sandburg. "You keep my offer in mind."
"Quit trying to lure Hannah away, Simon. She'll never leave her kids, anyway. I'll stop by the office Monday after I get Billy settled in school and look over the older reports you have about missing children. See if someone out there is looking for him," the Sentinel told the sheriff as the three men stepped out on the front porch and Simon untied his horse.
"Well, then, I'll see you Monday. Welcome home, guys," the big man smiled at them both as he spurred his horse away from the sprawling ranch house, his way lighted by a full moon in an unusually clear night sky.
TSTSTS
Sunday passed in a flurry of church and visits and baths, getting ready for the busy week of school and chores coming up. After dinner there was a two-hour period where they all gathered in the large living room and various projects or activities were pursued. A large chess set was pulled out, and Jim coached Trini, Jason, Adam, and Aisha in the intricacies of the game. Katherine, Kimberly, and Tanya, under Hannah's supervision, were happily sewing small outfits for Henri Brown's wife, who was expecting their first child in four months. Tommy and Rocky were playing checkers, using some odd, elaborate rules they'd come up with themselves, while Zack was sketching in a small pad, using a soft charcoal pencil. Blair was reading aloud from a book of mythology, entertaining the seamstresses as they worked, and ignoring some of the odd comments the other children came up with from time to time.
Billy had sat down in a small chair in a corner, looking around with avid interest at the various activities, but obviously unwilling to risk rejection by asking to join any. His gaze then fell on the nearby bookshelves, three feet wide and nearly ceiling high, and loaded with books; a precious commodity in the west. Blair glanced up from his reading and noticed the youth's wistful look and hastened to their newest charge's side.
"Billy, you are welcome to read any of the books here. The only rule is that you treat the books with respect, and leave them here in the living room, not in your bedroom. The lowest three shelves are books that should interest you kids; the upper shelves are some of my old college texts and research books. So you go ahead and look them over more closely, if you're interested. You won't get in trouble," he assured the boy, noticing how the green eyes seemed to light up a little with his words. Realizing the youngster would feel awkward if Blair just hovered over him, he returned to his reading, glancing over to the book corner occasionally to check on Billy's actions.
Eventually the youngster apparently found a book he wanted, and had settled back down in the chair, engrossed in the large volume. Curious, Blair looked over at the bookshelf, noticing an empty space on the fifth shelf up, where some of his old Anthropology textbooks were kept. Remembering that that particular tome had numerous illustrations, he figured the boy was simply checking out the pictures, so he didn't disturb his quiet enjoyment. Sandburg knew in time it was important that Billy become more integrated in the group, but they had learned over the last few years that it would happen in its own way, in its own time. Friendships could not be forced, but if given the proper environment would spring forth naturally.
The next morning Jim joined the children on the walk into town and school, wanting to properly introduce Billy to Miss Cora Appleby, the schoolmarm who ruled over Cascade's one room schoolhouse with a fond rule. The rotund woman in her mid thirties had twenty-seven students ranging from six-year-old Samuel Stone to seventeen-year-old Melissa Thompson, who had dreams of attending medical school.
"Mr. Ellison, this is a pleasant surprise," Miss Appleby greeted Jim on the front steps of the school, her pleasant round face showing an almost girlish blush in the presence of the big man. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, I'm hoping you have room for one more student," he explained, indicating the silent youth by his side. "Billy, this is Miss Appleby, she's going to be your teacher. Miss Appleby, this is Billy."
"Hi, Billy. Welcome to school," Cora said, leaning down and offering a hand to shake. The little boy gave his timid smile and shook her hand, looking up at her a little apprehensively.
The schoolteacher raised her eyes curiously at Ellison, wondering about the silence, so Jim hailed Adam as he wandered by. "Adam, would you please show Billy around the schoolroom, help him find a seat? Thanks," he requested, watching as the two boys went through the door.
"What's the story with this one?" Miss Appleby asked gently, having gotten used to the sad stories of the children Jim and Blair took in.
"His mother apparently died several years ago, his father's fate we don't know yet. When we found him he was in the custody of two men who abused him, badly. He's currently not talking, though we do know he can physically make sounds. We're not pushing him to speak for the time being, he's been through a lot, has a lot of healing to do. I asked him earlier if he'd ever been to school, and he shook his head 'no', so I'm guessing he's going to have a lot of catching up to do, too. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep an extra eye on him, let me know if you notice anyone giving him any real trouble, or any indication of a problem," the Sentinel concluded, his handsome face worried looking.
"Poor little fella, of course I'll keep an eye on him." She sighed deeply and sorrowfully. "I'll never understand how anyone can abuse a child. I trust the men who hurt him won't be back?"
"No, ma'am, no chance of that. Thank you," he said, tipping his hat respectfully before heading back into town to conclude his business. Behind him he heard Cora's clear voice calling the children in for the start of school, and the assorted whines from the children reluctant to give up their play for the confinement of the classroom.
TS TS TS
Nahum Goldar's first name was one of the best kept secrets of the territory. The last person who dared to utter it out loud found himself picking his teeth out of the mud behind the local saloon, a task made more difficult by the broken fingers on both hands.
Goldar was sixteen at the time.
The intervening years had done nothing to soften his attitude when it came to the name his deeply religious parents had saddled him with. After two years of frequent battles to quell the use of the hated appellation, he had finally succeeded, it seemed. He was known to all, even his few friends and employer, simply as Goldar. Any attempt to call him by a nickname – especially one drunk cowboy's ill advised attempt to call him Goldie – met with varying degrees of disapproval. Disapproval that often required the services of a doctor in the aftermath if one was lucky, the services of the undertaker if one was not, but either way there had never been a repeat offender.
At age twenty-two Goldar met up with Gaylord and Rita Zedd, who were on their way to Washington to build a cattle empire in the fertile country. The Zedds had made a small fortune by running a very profitable bootleg service during the Civil War, making a tidy profit from the country's turmoil. Cold, opportunistic, and determined to succeed no matter who they had to destroy in the process, the Zedds quickly decided Goldar would be a perfect foreman in their venture. Goldar had the knowledge of the workings of western society; the Zedds knew how to carefully hide less than legitimate business dealings so they would appear clean.
They were a perfect match of ruthlessness and subterfuge, and in barely five years they had quintupled their original land holdings outside Cascade. Only the hundred acres owned by James Ellison stood between the Zedds and a complete monopoly of the land north of town.
And Gaylord and Rita Zedd wanted that land, no matter what.
To be continued...