Читать книгу Ain't No Way - Jerry Milam - Страница 9

Chapter Three

Stagecoach or No Stagecoach

“Young lady, may I have some more coffee while I am waiting for an answer to my question?” Barney asked. “I trust that I answered your question satisfactorily, Mrs. Douglas?”

Martha politely nodded, and Beth brought over the big, heavy, hot coffee pot to pour Barney another cup. There was silence for a brief period as it seemed that no one wanted to take the task of relating the long story to the new member of the group.

John, seeing that Luke was about to open his mouth, began to tell of the journey.

“Well,” John hesitantly started. “My home was near Green River, Wyoming. My wife and I had a small place there. One day while I was in town getting seed for corn, a skunk got after our chickens. Nellie, my wife, got after the skunk with an old broom, just like she had done many times before. But this time, the skunk did not run. Instead, it turned on her, bit her on the ankle, and then ran off. A fortnight later, Nellie came down with a high fever. The skunk was rabid, and two days later, Nellie died, leaving me by myself.”

The whole camp was listening intently because this was the first time that John had mentioned that he even had a wife. Matt thought to himself, “John must really have a lot of respect for Barney.” John was a good judge of character, and to tell Barney this story, John must think that Barney was one very fine person.

“To make a short story long,” John tried to ease the tension, “Nellie’s people were from St. Louis, so I took her there to be buried. On the way home, I met the Douglases and Beth on the stage at Independence, Missouri. I really didn’t have nothing to come home to, so when they mentioned that they were going to California for a while, I decided to just head that way myself.”

Seeing that John was thinking of Nellie somewhat, Martha took over. “Bernie and I had just gotten married, so we decided to take a month and go to San Francisco for a honeymoon. Since our parents have passed on, we brought Beth along on the trip. So far, she seems to be enjoying the trip better than either one of us.”

“Me too,” Luke butted in on the conversation. “Me and Matt—”

“Matt and I,” Martha corrected.

“You wasn’t with Matt, I was,” Luke insisted.

“Oh, never mind,” Martha conceded.

“Anyways,” Luke continued. “We got on the stage in Denver. We drove a string of horses up there. Boy, did we have a rough drive! When we started up there, I knew it was going to be rough. You remember me telling you that it wasn’t going to be an easy drive, Matt? I could just feel it. You remember me telling you we ain’t gonna make it? Ain’t no way. But we did, then—”

“Then,” John took over the reins to keep Luke from rambling on and on about nothing. “We got as far as Provo, and the stage line decided that they weren’t going to cross the desert again until late August or early September. Personally I could have waited ’til then, but not Martha. When Martha sets her mind to doing something, you have three choices: get out of the way, get run over, or help out. At the time, the utter seemed to be the best choice. So we got a couple of wagons and some provisions together and started on our way, stagecoach or no stagecoach.”