So Far from Spring. Peggy Simson Curry

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ “Is that old sow still running everybody around the harbor?”

      “She is.”

      “And what about that bit of fluff you fancied so, her daughter?”

      “Prim? Prim’s there with her.”

      “And not likely to leave, either. Big Mina put the sign on the girl when she was hardly old enough to walk or talk—bellered and carried on about Prim tearing her apart and how she’d never be the same again. Hell, Big Mina was crippled and too fat before she ever had Prim. People used to say only the devil could have seen to the fact that Thomas Munro got Big Mina pregnant at such an age. Prim came along years and years after she’d had the two boys—and she was no spring chicken when Thomas married her.” Tommy began to laugh. “I remember once when I was just a lad and up there with my mother. Thomas was about to take off for sea again, the way he always did to get away from Big Mina. Well, the old girl threw herself on the floor and moaned and groaned that she was about to die. Thomas just stepped over her and said, ‘Go in peace, then.’ ”

      Kelsey chuckled, the whiskey hot in his throat. “He’s the only one who could ever trim her sails.”

      “And say, does Crowter the rag-buyer still hang around after Prim? When I was back there she was only a wee lassie—maybe thirteen—and Crowter was just getting a good start in his business. He must have been twenty or more, and he was always following Prim around like her shadow.”

      “Prim never fancied Crowter and never will. Besides, if she’d wanted a lad she’d have found something better. Crowter, why he’s—”

      “Beneath her? Oh, I dunno, Kelsey. What’s Prim Munro but Big Mina’s daughter? Remember how Crowter liked to whistle to Prim? He could fashion up the damnedest tunes—outta his head.” Tommy turned to Hilder, who was standing listening to all their words. “Get the meat cookin’ for supper—and see it ain’t so raw it bawls when I stick a fork in it.”

      “Go to hell,” Hilder said.

      Tommy laughed. “Worst cook east of the Continental Divide, but nobody else’ll stick in the Red Hill Ranch kitchen.”

      Kelsey was feeling lightheaded and talkative. “If it hadn’t been for your letters I’d never have had the courage to face Big Mina and borrow the money from her. I carried one right in my fist the day I had to see her, and it put a stiffness in me. She’s always hated my guts because of Prim. She talked right up to me, told me the only reason she was letting me have the money was to get me out of Scotland and away from Prim.” Kelsey took a drink from the glass Tommy had filled again. “She said”—he snickered—“she said, ‘The Indians will fancy that red hair of yours.’ I let her think it; I wouldn’t spoil it by telling her the Indians were gone and the big cattle herds—How many cattle you got, Tommy?”

      “Cattle? I don’t own no cattle. I’m foreman for Monte Maguire. Monte Maguire owns the cattle.”

      Kelsey blinked, sobering. “But I thought—When you first wrote and said you’d taken up the homestead and started a cattle herd—”

      “Oh.” Tommy cleared his throat. “Well, I did take up a homestead and I had a few cows. But I decided to sell. Monte bought everything from me. And I got a job here for the rest of my life and no worries, so—”

      “I was sure you owned cattle—and this ranch.”

      “Good God! This is a big ranch. It costs to have a ranch like this. And I’m not burnin’ to set the world afire like you always was, kiddo. A man lives and learns it don’t pay to go broke. And I want to tell you something: you’ll be lucky if you get a job in this country now. Spring work’s started, and ranchers ain’t hirin’ extra men until hayin’ season. Thirty dollars a month, that’s what you’ll get—if I can talk Monte into letting you stick around.”

      “Thirty dollars a month!” Kelsey stared at him. “I did better at the harbor!”

      “What’d you expect, kiddo—a foreman’s job to start?”

      The door banged again, and a boy walked in, a thick-shouldered boy who might have been sixteen or seventeen. Although his face was young and smooth, his pale brown eyes looked older, as though a lot of living lay behind them. His hair was thick and straight and yellow-brown.

      “Long Dalton,” Tommy said, introducing Kelsey as his cousin from Scotland. “If you want to know anything about horses—or women—ask him.”

      Long Dalton grinned. “Glad to see you, buddy.”

      Hilder began setting the table, tossing plates and silver on it in a haphazard manner. “Jake here tonight?” he asked.

      “Hasn’t come in yet,” Dalt said. “He was ridin’ the upper pasture where we got the two-year-old heifers. The early calves oughta be starting to drop.”

      “If he’s found a heifer havin’ trouble,” Tommy said, “he might not be in until midnight. Jake won’t leave a cow havin’ her first calf until he’s sure everything’s hunky-dory.”

      “I didn’t see anythin’ showin’ yet when I was along the ditch today,” Dalt said. “And the water’s comin’ through fine. Guess we’re done shovelin’ snowdrifts for this spring.”

      Then Kelsey remembered the little man he’d met on the prairie and said, “I saw Jediah Walsh. He’s off to the town. Said he’d be back soon.”

      “Fat chance! He’ll be on a three-day drunk over town. Hell, he ain’t been out of the hills since last fall. One of us better go up to the lake tomorrow and check the headgate to be sure everything’s all right.”

      “Jediah’s a great guy,” Dalt said. “Finest fella I ever did know. I heard two preachers talk in my life so far, and Jediah’s got more to say about religion and all sorts of other things. Jediah’s words make sense—even to a cussed kid like me.”

      “Well,” Kelsey said, smiling, “he’s really got a strong smell to him.”

      The men laughed. Dalt said, “That’s beaver castor smell. He baits his traps with stuff made outta the castors. He’ll get aired off good by the Fourth of July, and then he won’t smell no different from the rest of us.”

      “Set up to the table,” Hilder said. “Food don’t taste so greasy when it’s hot.”

      “Jake’s the best cow foreman in the Park,” Dalt said, dragging a chair to the table. He glanced at Kelsey. “Jake takes care of all Monte Maguire’s cattle, and Monte’s got three ranches. There’s this one, the North Fork Ranch across the hogback, and the home place over on the Platte River.”

      Three ranches, Kelsey thought wonderingly, remembering that Tommy had said a place like the Red Hill cost a lot of money. He reached for one of Hilder’s soggy biscuits. “What kind of man is Monte Maguire?” he asked.

      The men looked at one another. There was a silence, and then Tommy said, “You’ll find out.”

      Late that night Kelsey took the kerosene lamp and went upstairs to the small bedroom Tommy had told him was his. It was a narrow, stall-like place; the hay-filled bunk was covered СКАЧАТЬ