A Heart Renewed (42 page)

“Yes, sir,” Thomas said.  “Most recently I have been riding the military mail between Fort Whipple and Fort Wingate.  Prior to that I was a dispatcher for Major General Smith in the XVI Corps.”

“Hmm,” Craig said rubbing his hand over his chin.  “And you’re looking for a job now, are ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, it pays pretty good, mostly ‘cause it is pretty dangerous.  Though it sounds like you are used to that.”

Thomas smiled.  If he only knew.  “Yes, sir.  Been shot at, chased down by rebels and Indians, run out of rations, ridden through the night in the pouring rain, just to name a few of the situations I’ve been in.”

“Well, Anderson, I think you’ll do.  We’ll start you out on a trial basis.  See how you do on the first run.  If you can keep to the tough timetables and make it back alive, the job is yours.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, and Anderson, you can just call me Craig.  No need for the ‘sir’.”

Thomas chuckled.  “Yes, Craig.”

“Come back here for a horse first thing tomorrow morning.  You’ll make your first run then.  Frye will run with you this time, sorta show you the ropes.  You might want to pack a bag with some food, for you’ll need to supply your own on the trail, and get some new clothes.  The uniform is bound to confuse the stations along the way.”

Thomas thanked him again and left.  He had a lot to accomplish for the day if he was going to be ready to leave in the morning.  Craig suggested that he could find everything he needed to purchase at Gray & Company across the square, so he stopped there first.  Looking around the small store, at least small compared to his father’s store, he found some cotton shirts and trousers.  Setting aside two pair each, he looked around for some food supplies.  There was not much in the way of food he could readily prepare on the trail.  He would have to find food another way.  Looking around the store, he found a decent blanket, pistol, and rifle.  He carried his purchases to the counter and was relieved to have just enough money left for the boardinghouse and hopefully some food.

Stuffing his belongings into a burlap sack, Thomas swung it over his shoulder and walked across the square to the building labeled “Lancaster’s Boardinghouse.”  Not certain which of the three larger buildings he should enter he followed the delicious aroma of food.  He missed the midday meal, but it would still be a few hours until supper.

Pushing the door open to the dining hall, he walked in.  Muffled sounds were coming from the back, presumably the kitchen.  When he stuck his head in the kitchen, a small Chinese man and woman moved items around on the stove.

“Excuse me,” Thomas said.

The woman jumped and gave a little squeal.  The man rushed over to Thomas.

“No eat,” he kept saying waving his hands for Thomas to leave.

“I came to see about a place to stay,” he replied not budging from his place in the doorway.

The man paused for a moment then let out a big, “Oh!”  Opening the back door, he scurried off.  In a few seconds he led an older white woman by the arm into the kitchen.  “Stay,” he said pointing between the older woman and Thomas.

“Alright, Liang, I’ll see what this gentleman wants.”  The woman appeared rather kind and had a way about her that instantly put him at ease.

“Good afternoon, dear,” she said.  “I’m Mrs. Betty Lancaster, one of the owners of this establishment.  What can I do for you?”

“Ma’am.  Thomas Anderson.”  He thought for a moment the woman gave him a funny look, but when she quickly smiled he decided he imagined it.  “I’m looking for a place for the night.”

“Just one night, dear?”

“Yes.  I ride out with Leland Frye in the morning.  I’m trying to get the job on their express line.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!  I know that Mr. Frye is getting tired of making the long trip so often.  It’ll be good for him to have your help.  Let me think.  Yes, I believe I can put you in the Mother Lode, the bunkhouse to the south.  Follow me.”

Thomas followed Betty to the bunkhouse.  She assigned him a bunk and explained the fees.

When she mentioned three meals were included in the higher than expected price, he tried to negotiate.  “I won’t be staying after breakfast tomorrow.  We’ll be leaving first thing.”

“Dear, it doesn’t seem to me that you got much in the way of belongings.  Now, I know there are some stations along the way, but you’ll be lucky to get one meal out of them per day.  Do you have food for the trip?”

“Well, I was hoping to find some jerky, bread, and cheese to purchase, but have come up empty so far.”

“Say no more.  I’ll fix up a small supply for you, no extra charge.  I think you’ll find the jerky mighty good.  It comes from a local ranch up the way, Colter Ranch.  Anyway, I’ll have something ready for you in the morning, dear.”

As Betty turned to leave, she paused.  “Have we met before, Mr. Anderson?  You look awful familiar to me.”

“I don’t think so ma’am.  This is my first day in Prescott,” he answered, not wanting to divulge too much about his past.

The older stout woman shrugged her shoulders, apparently giving up on trying to place him.  “Well, then, welcome to Prescott, Mr. Anderson.  Supper service starts at six.”

Thomas watched as she closed the door behind her.  He was positive he never met the woman before.  Waiting another minute to make sure he was alone, he changed from his uniform into one of the cotton shirts and trousers.  It felt so good to wear something other than the scratchy wool.

Chapter 33

True to her word, Betty had food packed for Thomas, ready to go the next morning.  After devouring a savory breakfast in the dining hall, he grabbed his things and met Leland Frye at the livery.  The man was shorter than he expected—for once Thomas was the tall one.

Leland showed him their horses boarded at the livery.  He let Thomas choose his horse.  Carefully looking over the options, he picked a chestnut mare.  The horse looked strong, and he suspected she was fast.

“Nice choice, Anderson.  That’s one of our fastest horses.  Let’s get her saddled up.”

As Thomas went about the task, Leland explained how they ran the express.  “You might find how we do things a mite different than the army.  We typically change out horses at stations along the way, roughly every fifteen miles.  Then about a third of the way there, in Wickenburg, we’ll stop for the night.  The next day we’ll go through a similar change of horses until we reach Fredrick’s station.  The third day, we should reach La Paz towards the end of the day.  Most the stages take twice as long to cover the distance, but we set a fast pace so we can make the circuit twice a month.  Once we get to La Paz, we’ll stay for a day or two then head back.  When we get back to Prescott, I usually take three days off to rest up for the next run.”

Leland was right.  It was a bit different in that he would have a fresh horse every fifteen miles and would be able to cover greater distances.  That was not possible when couriering the military mail.  He looked forward to having a bed to sleep in most nights.

When they finished saddling the horses, they stopped at the Juniper House and then Fort Whipple to pick up the mail before heading southwest on the rough road.  Leland told tales similar to what Bixley told him at the fort.  They would have to keep a sharp eye out for Apaches and robbers.  Since the mail route was the same as the stage route, Leland said they were more likely to run into robbers.

Following a series of switchbacks, they wove between tall pines perched on the edge of the Bradshaw Mountains.  Several times they traveled so close to the edge, they had a clear view of the valley stretching miles below.  A hazy purplish blue in the distance hinted that there were more mountains to be crossed on this journey, though Leland said they would not reach those until the third day.

At the base of the mountain, they stopped off for their first change of horses.  They picked up the pace, riding at a slow gallop, across the open valley floor.  Within an hour and a half they arrived at the next station.  Both men refilled their canteens, transferred the mail to the fresh horse, and took off at a fast pace.  The routine repeated several more times throughout the day.

Around noon, when they stopped for another change of horses, Leland pulled out some of his bread and jerky, suggesting Thomas do the same.  They slowed to a trot while eating, then pushed forward at a faster pace veering slightly east along the trail towards Wickenburg.  Sometime around three in the afternoon, they arrived in the small town.

Dismounting his horse, Thomas threw the reins over the hitching post.  Grabbing his saddle bags, which contained all of his belongings, he followed Leland into the station house.

“Drop your bag in one of the rooms.  Then come out back.  There’s cool fresh water to wash up,” the station owner said.

Eager for cool water to splash on his face, Thomas did as instructed.  He wanted to dump the entire bucket over his head but settled for splashing some of the refreshing liquid on his face.  The temperature increased steadily since they reached the valley floor—and it was only the end of April.  He wondered just how hot it would be in the height of summer.

Pacing back and forth, he worked out the kinks in his sore legs.  It was different riding all day at a gallop as opposed to the gentle walk he used on his military runs.  The constant jarring movements required him to use different muscles to remain in control while in the saddle.  He was glad the day was done so early.  Thinking of the bed waiting for him this evening, he nearly gave in to the temptation to take a nap.  Not the best way to make a good impression on Leland.

Leland and a few of the station hands sat at the table with a deck of cards.  The soft
whoosh
of shuffling cards set Thomas’s heart to pounding.  It brought back memories of sitting around the poker tables at the old saloons.  Fingers itching in excitement, he took a seat and asked to be dealt in, even when they said the game was just for sport.

After a few rounds of poker, with Thomas thoroughly trouncing the other men, supper was served.  The hearty fare of desert quail, biscuits and gravy, and fried potatoes, satisfied his hunger.  The apple pie for dessert was a treasured bonus.  He could not remember the last time he had apple pie.  Was it when he lived with Drew and Hannah?  Her apple pie was one of the sweetest and best he ever tasted.  The one before him did not quite compare, but it came close.

When it came time to retire for the night, images from his days at Drew and Hannah’s house floated through his mind.  They had been so kind to him, even when he was rebellious and angry.  Guilt flooded him nearly to the point of drowning when he thought of how horrible he must have been to live with.  He had to find them and make amends.

Thomas’s dreams were fitful as he imagined every sort of reaction when he arrived in La Paz.  There was compassion and excitement for being reunited with his long lost brother.  There was joy that he had settled into a fine man.  There was anger for ruining Drew’s business.  There was resentment for causing them such a long strenuous journey.  By the time he woke the next morning, he felt wearier.  The anger and resentment he felt in his dreams stayed with him throughout the day.

The first station he and Leland arrived at on the second day was not much more than a watering hole, a shack, and a small corral with two horses.  Obviously the two they were leaving behind would be the ones they picked up on the way back.  The day before Thomas wondered why they stopped so early with so much daylight left.  Seeing the poor condition of this station he understood why.

After leaving Wickenburg, there was not much to look at except desert brush.  They followed the open valleys most of the day.  Towards the end of the afternoon, they skirted to the north of another mountain range, before stopping at a station in a place called Desert Wells, which was nothing more than a few buildings and deep water well.  While not as nice as the station in Wickenburg, the men were provided a place to sleep and hearty food to fill their stomachs.

By the middle of the third day, when Thomas and Leland started weaving through mountain passes, he was more than ready to arrive in La Paz.  Even though he spent the majority of the past two years of his life on the back of a horse, this type of riding was far more strenuous than he imagined.  He hoped he would toughen up by the time they returned to Prescott.

When he spotted buildings dotting the horizon around five in the afternoon, he could barely contain his excitement.  Surely that was La Paz.  As they neared the town, his suspicions proved true.  The town of La Paz was situated on the eastern bank of the Colorado River.  It was more than twenty times the size of Prescott and seemed to have most every of type of business you would expect for a bustling western city.

Pulling to a stop in front of the post office, his jaw slacked in awe.  They actually had a dedicated post office building.  After dropping off the mail sacks, Leland led his horse back to the eastern edge of the city to the station where they would stay.

Too exhausted to start his search for Drew tonight, Thomas resigned himself to starting early the next day.  By the time they dropped off their horses and washed up, supper was on the table.  Propping his head on one hand, Thomas slowly brought a forkful of steak to his mouth.  Each bite seemed to take more energy than he had.

Leland slapped him on the back, nearly causing him to drop his fork.  “You did real good Anderson.  Best first run I ever saw.  Most other riders would have me camped somewhere in the desert tonight, not even making it to town.”

Thomas smiled at the compliment.  Sounded like, unless he made some major blunder on the trip back, he would have this job.  Although, right now he could see why Leland wanted to get out of riding.

After supper, Thomas headed straight for bed.  Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

The next morning, breakfast aromas already filled the building.  Thomas shot upright.  He had overslept.  As he entered the dining room, he saw Leland just now sitting down at the table.