Abe Wheeler stepped out of the livery covering his eyes until they got use to the bright sun. He scanned the area noting Sam hard at work near the forge in the adjoining blacksmith shop.
“Afternoon Sam.” He greeted the older man. “Need some help?”
“Afternoon.” Sam nodded his salutation, “now that you mention it, if you could finish up here with this order, Jess Kincaid needs a dozen horseshoes ready by tomorrow. Oh, and Miss Nettie is needing her wagon fixed soon as we can get to it. Her back wheel hit a hole pretty hard and bent.” He motioned toward the buckboard parked just outside the doors.
Abe glanced toward the small wagon then back to Sam. “Sure thing boss. Anything else?” he asked as he dawned a leather Smithies apron.
Sam doused the horseshoe he’d been working on into the barrel of water letting it cool down before jerking it back out again and setting it aside.
“Naw, I think that’s it. I sure appreciate your help Abe, I need to get back to the ranch, got someone coming out to look at a couple horses I got for sale.” He stepped away from the forge removing his apron and hanging it on a hook on the nearby wall. “You and your partner give any more thought to buying this place?”
“Some,” Abe replied brushing away a stray hair from his face. “Last I seen Jake he said he was just startin to work for some company haulin freight. I’ll talk to him again, let ya know for sure in a few days.”
Sam patted the young man’s shoulder. “Don’t take too long deciding, Abe, I need to sell. I’m getting too old to be trying to run this place and my ranch too. The deal I offered you is still on the table, but you got to decide.”
Abe’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as he watched Sam make his way to the livery and a few minutes later ride out of town. If Jake declined the partnership, could he run the place on his own, both livery and blacksmiths? Did he want to? Was he ready to settle in one place? As he contemplated his musing while he got to work on the horseshoes, a familiar frame filled the doorway.
“Hey there buddy, how about a break?”
Abe looked up and grinned. “Just the man I was wantin ta see, how’d your first run go?”
“Smooth as butter.” Jake grinned. “But I’m hankerin’ for a drink and a whiskey is soundn mighty good right now. How about it?”
“Well,” Abe looked around, “got plenty of work I need to get finished, but I got a little time.” He stopped what he was doing and pulled off the apron laying it on a nearby stool.
“After you.” Jake grinned motioning toward the open door.
The two men strolled through the bustling town, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the dusty street. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the local bakery mingled with the scent of horses and hay, creating a familiar and comforting atmosphere. As they walked, they exchanged stories of their recent endeavors, the camaraderie between them evident in every shared laugh and knowing glance.
Reaching the saloon, they pushed through the swinging doors, greeted by the lively hum of conversation. It was late afternoon, and the saloon was filling with dusty drovers from the surrounding ranches. They made their way to the bar, where Abe signaled the bartender for two whiskeys. He poured them out with a nod, sliding the glasses across the worn wooden surface.
“To new beginnings,” Jake toasted, raising his glass.
“New beginnings,” Abe echoed, clinking his glass against Jake’s before taking a hearty sip. The warmth of the whiskey spread through him, momentarily easing the burden of his swirling thoughts.
“So, you thinkin’ about takin’ Sam’s offer?” Jake asked, leaning against the bar.
Abe hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “I don’t know, Jake. It’s a big commitment, and I ain’t sure if I’m ready to settle down like that. What about you? You think any more on the partnership I offered you?”
Jake took a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Well, I reckon if we set our minds to it, we could make it work. Could be a good partnership. But I just signed on with the freight company.”
“No reason you couldn’t do both if that’s what ya want. I can handle things while you’re away.”
“I dunno know Abe, could be a lot to handle,” Jake was skeptical.
“Could be, but how many runs a week you getting?” Abe asked taking another sip from his glass.
Jake downed the rest of the amber liquid and motioned the bartender for another. “So far one run a week, may work up to two later on. Guess doin’ both for a time wouldn’t be so bad. Hell, between the two of us we could probably make a pretty good go of the place. We both got the skills.”
Abe studied his friend, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. “Well then?”
“Yeah,” Jake said firmly. “Maybe we’ve both been wanderin’ long enough. Maybe it’s time we put down some roots. Sides, I want to keep an eye on my sister, make sure she’s settlen in well.”
Jake felt a sense of clarity begin to form. “Alright then,” he said slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s do it, I’ll throw in with ya.”
Abe’s face lit up with a grin. In that moment his hesitance was gone. He’d made up his mind the moment Jake had. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! Here’s to our new venture, partner.”
They clinked their glasses once more, sealing their decision with a shared determination. As they drank to their future, the uncertainty that had plagued Abe began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of purpose and excitement.
Suddenly Abe stopped the glass just as it hit his lips. His hand slowly setting the glass back on the bar with a look of surprise and confusion masking his face. “Sister?” He looked up at Jake who was nearly a head taller than he was. “Sister? You never told me you had a sister.”
Jake grinned taking a sip of his whiskey before he replied. “You never asked.”
“Well, I’m askin now, I thought you said what was left a your family was with Iron Hawks’ band.”
“They are.” Jake answered . “I didn’t know Cheyenne was here, not until I saw her with the preacher the other day. Seems my grandfather wanted her away from war with the whites, figured she’d be safer. He won’t go to the reservation, talk is Iron Hawk feels the same. They’re headin to join up with Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. My brother Marcel’s still with them.”
“Cheyenne?” Abe questioned, for the moment, everything Jake had said after he mentioned his sisters name had been a blur. “You say your sister’s name is Cheyenne? She’s with the preacher?”
Jake nodded suspiciously.
“That preachers mighty protective of her, said she was his god daughter.”
“That’s right, least wise…” he let the rest drop “A story for another time. How do you know Cheyenne?”
Abe gulped another drink from his glass. “I found her not long after she got here, she got her foot caught in a wolf trap. I got her out and brought her back. Tried to pay her a visit and the preacher was havin’ none of it.”
Jake chuckled, “That’s Josiah, she told me about getting her foot caught, she’s still limpin’ a might on it. Didn’t know it was you that saved her. I owe ya a debt of gratitude for that.”
Abe smiled, “Well now maybe you can repay me by lettin’ me pay her a visit.”
Jake grinned. Holding his glass to his lips. “Maybe.” He downed the rest in a gulp. “Didn’t you say we got work to do over at the Livery and smiths. We best get to it if we’re gonna be runnin’ it from now on.” With that Jake started for the doors.
Abe downed the rest of his drink and followed after him.
As Abe and Jake stepped out into the late afternoon light, the town was quiet save for the noise building in the saloon. A few residents lingered on the boardwalk as they went about concluding their business for the day. The Livery and Smithy were just a short walk down the main street, and both men were keen to get started on the work that waited for them.
The Livery was a sprawling establishment, home to horses, tools, and sometimes weary travelers. Jake surveyed the scene, spotting a few horses that needed tending to and Miss Nettie’s wagon that required repair.
To their surprise Sam had returned and was talking with another man, tall with sandy brown hair flowing from under his army lieutenant’s hat. His attire was unmistakably cavalry.
“Howdy Sam.” Abe greeted him. “Thought you went home to sell some horses.”
“I did, then the lieutenant here decided he wanted to see the place, he had a notion to buy me out. I told him you had first dibs if’en you were still interested.”
Jake and Abe both eyed the soldier with an air of caution and suspicion. Neither one cared for the army, both having their reasons, and it was evident in their stance and stone expressions.
The lieutenant, sensing their wariness, extended his hand with a hesitant smile, "I mean no trouble, just looking for opportunities. Name's Lieutenant Harris."
Jake and Abe both stared at the man's outstretched hand, their stern expressions unchanging. Abe was the first to relent, shaking the man's hand firmly to show he wasn't intimidated by the uniform, though he had no interest in friendship. Jake, on the other hand, refused the gesture, choosing instead to glare at the man while resting his hand on the bone handled knife at his belt.
“I’m afraid you’re to late Mister,” Abe announced letting go of the soldier’s hand and turning to Sam. “This here’s the friend I told you about Sam, Jake Pasquinell. We decided to take you up on your offer.”
Sam grinned with a satisfied nod. “I was hopin’ you would.”
The lieutenant's eyes flickered briefly over Abe and Jake, taking in their distinct features. He could tell they were both of mixed heritage, likely half Sioux by the markings on the bigger man’s scabbard. There was a subtle recognition in his eyes, but he remained composed, attempting to earn their trust despite the history and tension between their peoples.
“Well, win some ya loose some.” He flashed a small grin. “Don’t suppose you boys would be interested in doing some work for the army?”
“Don’t work for no army.” Jake growled throwing a wary glance to Abe.
Abe new that look in Jake’s eyes, His friend’s anger and mistrust for the army ran deep, out matching his own.
“You heard the man, now if you’ll excuse us, we got work to do.” With that he turned to follow Jake to the Smithy’s glancing back at Sam. “We’ll be out first thing in the mornin’ Sam to draw up the papers.”
~*~*~*~*~
Chris Larabee leaned back on the chair outside the saloon, he inhaled then blew out the smoke from his chroot. Vin Tanner sat next to him a toothpick between his teeth as they watched the goings on at the livery.
“Could be trouble brewin’.” Vin said removing the wooden pick and chucking it in the dirt.
Chris took another drag from his smoke. “You know anything about those two?”
“Not much. The one with the braids, he works at the livery. He used to work for Royal, seems they had a fallin’ out. The big guy, with the long hair and tomahawks on his belt, he’s the one got chewed up by that bear. He used to work for Royal too. Heard he just started driving freight.”
Chris pondered Vin's words, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he watched the two men disappear into the smithy. "Royal's been causing trouble around these parts for a while now. If those two got caught in his web, there might be more to this than we know."
Vin nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah, and if they're looking for work, it means they're trying to stay outta trouble. But trouble's got a way of findin' folks like them."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty streets, Chris and Vin watched as Sam and the Calvery officer mounted their horses and left. Sensing no trouble for the moment the two made their way into the saloon. Taking a seat in the back corner of the establishment, they ordered a bottle and two glasses.
The saloon was a haven of low murmurs and the occasional burst of laughter as Chris and Vin settled into their corner. The bartender, a grizzled man with a permanent scowl, brought over the whiskey and glasses, placing them on the table with a nod. Chris poured the amber liquid, the aroma mingling with the lingering scent of smoke and sweat.
They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Vin broke the quiet first, his voice low and contemplative. "Think that officer's gonna stir things up?"
Chris shook his head, taking a slow sip. "Hard to tell. Army types usually bring their own kind of trouble. We've got enough of our own to deal with."
Their conversation drifted to other matters, the dry spell affecting the farmers crops, the recent surge in cattle rustling, and the ever present threat of outlaws. But both men's minds kept circling back to Jake and Abe, the two newcomers who seemed to carry the weight of another man's sins on their shoulders.
Just as Chris was about to refill their glasses, the saloon doors swung open with a creak, admitting a gust of cool evening air and a figure silhouetted against the twilight. It was an older man, he was dusty and dirty, with well worn chaps that spoke of many long days spent working hard they were showing signs of wear and tear from countless hours of riding and working in rugged conditions. His appearance suggested a life of labor and resilience, with dust clinging to his clothes and skin, and dirt marking his hands and face. His spurs jingled softly with each step, a testament to his many travels.
He scanned the room quickly before making his way to the bar. After ordering a beer he turned, his back leaning against the bar as he took a sip from his mug. Spying Chris and Vin in the far corner he made his way over to them.
"Evening, gentlemen," he addressed Chris and Vin, his voice steady but edged with urgency. "I hear you're the men to talk to when there's trouble."
Chris raised an eyebrow, setting down the bottle. "Depends on the trouble. Who might you be?"
"Name's Seth," he replied, his eyes meeting Chris's with a mix of resolve and confidence. "I've come to warn you.” He began, taking a seat at their table without being asked. “There's talk in town that Royal's planning something big. He's gathered a group of rough men, and word is, they're looking to cause more than just a few headaches."
Vin leaned forward, his interest piqued. "What kind of trouble are we talking about?"
Seth glanced around, lowering his voice. "He aims to take control of the whole town. Anyone who stands in his way, like those two fellas from the livery, won't stand a chance. He's got the backing of some influential folks, and he's not afraid to spill blood to get what he wants. Word is Stuart James is throwing in with him."
Chris and Vin exchanged a look, understanding the gravity of the situation. They had faced both Royal and James before, both were power-hungry men, together their ambition and ruthlessness were a dangerous combination.
"Why are you telling us this?" Vin asked guardedly
“Cuz it’s the right thing to do, sides, I don’t work for Royal anymore, never did like how he did things.”
Chris nodded slowly, determination hardening his features. “Thanks for the heads-up. We'll keep an eye out.”
With a satisfied nod, Seth left his unfinished beer on the table, stood and left without another word.
Chris and Vin sat in silence, the weight of the man’s words settling over them like a heavy cloak. They finished their drinks, knowing that the calm of the evening was a fragile thing, soon to be shattered by the storm brewing on the horizon. With a final glance at each other, they rose from their seats, “Better let the others know.” Chris said.
Vin gave a short nod in agreement.
The End
Continues in The Thunder Rolls
