When my brothers were still around, they were probably the most known hunters in Pueblo. I never thought of it, but that's probably what boosted their decision to go to Mississippi and meet Pa's parents and hold up that side of the family's business.
They were still teenagers when they left, Henry being 17 and Thomas being 15. I was 9, and MaryAnne was 12.
That was when Pa died. If my brothers' reputations didn't push them to move, Pa's death did.
I never really knew the how, when, where, and why he died, I just remember Bullnose bursting into the town, eyes widened as big as saucers, nostrils flared—he looked absolutely crazed and terrified.
We buried an empty casket about a month later. Sheriff Cecil Adams said—after weeks of investigating—that it was the Comanches. Said they took him during a cattle drive and killed him.
I wouldn't have believed him if he hadn't brought back his clothes covered in blood with plenty of rips and tears, indicating a resistance.
We all cried that day, for what seemed like hours, and it didn't even stop there. I still cry to this day thinking about him. I don't know what my brothers feel when they think of him, if they do. They'd have to, being surrounded by our father's past and family.
When Henry and Thomas were still around, we were all friends. When they were still around, we all played and got along. When they were still around, we were all a family.
I got off better with Henry, I think. He was my second best friend, next to my dad. I don't know if it's just because we looked alike—exactly alike—, or if it was because we liked the same things. Henry wasn't as into hunting as Thomas was, but he was so good at it. He was more into wrangling when Pa was still around.
I remember me, him, and Pa would all go out and practice roping calves and training the horses cutting. Those were the days that I remember the best.
Now, I'm sitting here on my bed with only memories. I've lost my brothers and my father. All I have left is memories.
I stood up from my, might I add, very comfortable position on my sleeping place, and got ready to go see Jack. I made sure to grab Pa's old pocket watch to take with me.
My mother and sister were already working at the apothecary with grandma, so I exited the house without saying one goodbye.
As I took my first step on the porch, I inhaled every bit of warm Saturday air i could. The smells of sweet honeysuckle, cow and horse manure, and burning logs from the blacksmith flooded every gland in my mouth and nose. These are the things I live for, fresh, open summer mornings.
I basked in the essence a little longer, then continued onward to Jackie's house.
Before I went, I grabbed Hawk, of course. Why walk all the way if you have a horse to do it for you, am I right?
Jack's house was down the road from mine, closer to town. My house was the last one out before you hit open traveling road. His house was definitely bigger than mine, with and attic for his room and his siblings had separate rooms. There are a total of four rooms in his house, along with a kitchen and sitting/dining area. It was a pretty house, with decorations in all the right places, along with a few mounts. To specify its exterior, it was a log cabin like mine, with his family's brand on a sign outside.
Jack's barn was smaller though, for he didn't have many horses. They use to, but after Pa died no one really held cattle drives, therefor no one really needed very many horses. He still had around four though—three paint mares, two of brown and white, one of buckskin and white, and a bay stallion.
War Hawk's mother—the black and white paint—died about a year ago when Jackie's Pa had to shoot her after a rabid dog bit her and gave her hydrophobia. It was his Pa's horse, and I don't know what he thought about having to put her down, but he seemed sad.
After putting her down, though, they sold most of their horses to passing travelers, traders, and fur trappers that needed new ones because of various reasons, like their horses died or are too weak to continue, or just because they didn't have one to begin.
It seems that after my Pa's death, our town hit a period of depression. Everything went wrong, people were leaving, others were dying, and people just wouldn't get along through their sadness. It lasted for about a year until we finally moved on and started to like each other again.
I tugged the reigns to the left as we hit our destination—Jackie's house. The path to his house was narrow and long, with shrubbery and woods thick on both sides of the pathway.
I absolutely hated traveling through there alone. It brings hair up on your neck and keeps you on high alert, every little sound making you jump and halt your horse. I'm not the only one that feels that way, though, War Hawk always gets uneasy going through there too.
I finally entered the open and sunlight again and sighed. I took Hawk to the fence post outside their house, dismounted, and tied him up. I knew exactly where Jack was, because, well, we're best friends.
Before we go to hang out, he is always in his barn waiting for me to come looking for him, just so he can jump out and scare me. I usually fake a scream, just to make him feel better, but after the fifth time getting scared, it really doesn't phase me.
I approached the open barn, and walked in, my breath held the whole time.
Five, four, three, two, one...
"RAAAAAAHHHHH"
Right on cue.
I pretended to let out a small scream, and he just laughed. That seems to be all he knows how to do. I gave him about thirty seconds to cool down, then spoke.
"You really got me that time Jackie. I was just shakin' in my leather boots I was so scared."
He was hinted of my sarcasm and smirked.
"Oh I know I did! That time I really heard you scream! Just like when I walked in front of you and ol' War Hawk travelin' at 90 miles an hour, huh?"
I rolled my eyes and changed the subject to what we were doing today. I tend to do that often when I'm around him. Rolling eyes and changing the subject of the conversation is my specialty. Especially when I'm around Jack L. Baker.
"So what're we doin' today?"
He just stared. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Don't 'what' me! I came all the way here because you wanted me to yesterday, and you don't even know what we're doin'!"
"You know, Dan, you say 'all the way here' like you walked 24 miles to get here. Walked."
"Jackie, I'm gonna go home right now if you don't come up with somethin' in that head of yours! I don't have time for this! I can be practicing wranglin' or out ridin' right about now!"
It was his turn to roll his eyes now.
"Oh don't be dramatic, I know what we can do."
"And what might that be?"
He smiled and started walking towards the entrance while looking back at me and gesturing for me to follow. So I did.
We got within the proximity that no one would here us—which was in the woods behind his house—and he shared a secret with me that changed my life.
"Some of the guys in town are holdin' another cattle drive. Probably one of the last..."
I would never forget those words. Those sentences were two of the many things I heard that I wouldn't forget in this stage of my life.
I had to go with them. I didn't care if they said no, I would find a way to join those men on that cattle drive, if it were the last thing I did, and with the reputation of the cattle drive, it might just be the last thing I did.
"Jackie I have to go with them."
"I thought you would say that, but you can't go Danny. They won't let you, nor will they be convinced you can go on a trip like that. You're just too young..."
I frowned at him and clenched my fists.
"I don't care if they don't think I can do it! I don't care if I'm too young! I will prove to them just how dang lucky they are to have a cattle wrangler like me! I know I'll make Pa proud!"
He raised his eyebrows, then furrowed them and grabbed my arms.
"Danny I don't want you to get hurt! Or even worse! I don't want you to die!"
"Nothin' is gonna stop me Jackie. I'm goin', whether you like it or not."
He let go, relaxed his face, and spoke calmly.
"Then I'm goin' too. Whether you like it or not."
We stared at each other for minutes, then left, sharing an unspoken agreement that would probably get us both killed.
Before I left to go home, I conferred with Jack some more, getting every detail and planning when we would sneak out to occupy the band on their cattle drive.
"So when are we gonna sneak out, and when are they leavin?"
"My Pa said tomorrow night, so get your stuff packed and be ready to leave when I come over tomorrow afternoon."
After that, we said our goodbyes and I mounted Hawk. I hope you're ready boy, because we're gonna be in for it.
I took him to a full gallop, and we raced home. I had to be there before Ma did, or she'd be suspicious. I don't even know if she knows about this yet.
I raced passed every blur that, in my knowledge, were houses that led up to my own homestead. It was about 4:00 P.M when we were on our way out of the woods at Jackie's, and Ma would be home early because of the weekend. MaryAnne wouldn't come home today, though, because she always stays with Grandma to study at the apothecary on the weekends.
I flew over our front gate and slowed Hawk to a canter until we reached the stables. I unsaddled him and put him in his stall, before arranging the tack I needed into one corner and placed my gun behind it all.
I rushed to the house and gathered a few outfits—which was pretty much ALL of my clothes—and made sure to place my pocket watch with them. I would get any food and supplies tomorrow while my mom was gone, because she'd be onto something if I had a pack of food in my room.
There's not much else to it, because my brothers taught me how to hunt and use my surroundings to my advantage, and when they left, Grandpa continued with my education of the outdoors.
I looked at my watch, which read 6:38. That means I still have time to go into town and get a few things after dinner. The summer sun won't rest until around 9:00 or 9:30, so I'll have plenty enough time to gather the rest of the details I need for my trip.
I sat for another ten minutes before Ma got home, and I immediately greeted her and helped her prepare a meal. She brought home some deer meat that Jackie's Pa brought in, and we cooked it up.
We sat in silence as we ate, not a word spoken. Once we were both done, I took our dishes, washed them, and used "I'll take the rest to Grandma and Grandpa" as an excuse to go into town.
I gathered up the remaining pieces of cooked and seasoned deer steaks, and placed them in a small pouch to take. I ran out the door and didn't bother putting a saddle on Hawk, I only equipped him with a bridle.
I took him into a canter and we were off.
We approached town and I slowed him slightly, before stopping in front of Mrs. Hillsong's general store and tying him up on a post outside. I ran down to the apothecary and delivered the food, before entering the general store.
"Hey Mrs. Hillsong!", I greeted politely.
She smiled and greeted back, while gesturing to her store and telling me she'd give me a secret discount for being such a "sweet doll".
I looked in my pocket to find a nickel. Just enough for some licorice and a skillet, just what I need right now.
I picked out a few sticks of licorice and a small skillet, then payed and rushed out, of course after thanking and saying my goodbyes to Mrs. Hillsong.
"Come on boy, let's go!"
Hawk and I took off faster than, well, fast. We skidded throughout every twist and turn on the way to my house, and took the back way that led to the backside of the stables. I entered and threw everything I bought behind my tack and placed Hawk's bridle on top.
I took him to his stall and gave him a goodnight kiss, just as I always do. I sighed and proceeded on to my house.
My mom was already in her room sleeping when I arrived. The relief I felt after that oncoming knowledge was of none other. I dragged to my room and looked at my Pa's pocket watch one last time before going to bed.
10:10
I kissed it and remembered the last time I saw him. We spent the whole day together before he left for the next cattle drive, and it was one of the best days ever. Me, him, and Henry were branding a few of the new bulls we got, along with some calves, and I remember the smell of their burning skin was the worst thing ever.
"This smells like Thomas when he doesn't bathe after while!"
They just laughed. I remember Pa's smile, and him and Henry laughing and joking around with each other. I remember Ma shouting at them to come inside before the food gets cold.
"Y'all better get your heads out of those dang cows butts and come eat! I ain't cookin' for you twice!"
We all laughed, finished up, and went inside and ate as a family. We joked at the table, conversed, laughed.
Those were the good times. But now they're all gone. Now all I have are memories.