The Diary of Jerrod Bently, J.W. Osborn [the false prince series TXT] 📗

not Sam.
“I will be taking Watson’s place till we reach Abilene and settle up for Roger Hinkley,” Sam told the men “ But all of you need to know who you are going to be taking orders from until we get there.” Several feet of glossy dark auburn hair fell down over her shoulders and back and she tossed her hat aside. “You know me as Sam Dodge, ram rod and head wrangler” she said confidently “The fact that I really am Samantha Dodge does not change a thing. I know my job and can do it as good as any man.” She was a spit fire, that was for sure and I heard the challenge in her voice as she spoke. Even if I had not fallen in love with her, I would have willingly cast my lot with her knowing Sam as I did. I felt the other men would probably see it the same way. There was silence, and surprise among them , some may have been shocked by her revelation. Ely Jax stood up removing his dusty hat, the look of surprise still on his face. “I have worked side by side with you all these weeks, Ma’am.” he said “ I have seen you ride and rope like a seasoned cowboy, may be even better. Well, what I am trying to say, is that I intend to stay on till the drive is over. Me and my brother, Floyd.” The young man’s brother rose to his feet. “I knowed you was different, Miss Sam,” he said “But I never questioned your work or working with you. I agree with Ely. You done one heck of a job on this drive and with no help from Watson. We are in. So let’s get on with it.”
Sam smiled at Floyd as he stood there, with his battered old hat in his hands and I felt the ugly green monster called jealousy bite me a little, but I chose to ignore it. Right now my petty feelings did not matter.
“Thanks”, she said “Anyone who wants to leave better do it now. I will see him paid for his time and on his way. One by one each drover agreed to stay on.
“Well, “Miss Samantha Dodge,” Caleb Tyler spat “ Now that you are the boss, how about telling the boys that I am your new ram rod.” Everything in the camp went still and the tension suddenly mounted. Sam looked him dead straight in the eyes “I have chosen the ram rod for the rest of the drive, Tyler.” she said strongly “My choice is Jerrod Bently.”
I could see the anger building in Tyler’s reddened face.”You chose that green horn over me!”, he growled “I have the experience and Bently ain’t nothing. I ain’t going to be taking orders from no woman either. None of us will,” he added expecting the crew to join him against Sam.
Sam stood her ground “That is your choice, Tyler,” she said sternly. That was the moment when Caleb Tyler made the worse mistake he could have made. “Why you half breed,” he snarled and moved toward Sam, his hands clenched into fists and fury on his face. “I will kill you.”
It was though I never saw her hand move because it happened so fast. The knife she’d thrown buried its deadly blade in Tyler’s forearm. Tyler went to his knees, yelping in pain and bleeding profusely.. I heard guns being cocked and saw Scrub Pot with that shot gun of his aimed at Caleb Tyler. “One move, and you are a dead man,” he said “You are very lucky that Sam didn’t kill you with that knife,” he added. Tyler was shocked, as he knelt there holding his arm while Scrub Pot crossed to where he was and pulled the knife out, then handed it back to Sam. “I will patch you up, you sorry son of coyote,” he added and “then you better get out of here and never come back.” Tyler only stared at him, everyone but him had cast their lot with Sam Dodge and this trouble maker found himself bleeding from a knife wound that he well deserved. Two of the drovers helped him up. “For your information, Tyler,” Sam stated coldly as he faced her. “I am not a half breed. My father was. As he was Blackfoot, so am I and proud of it.”
I’d drawn my gun as Tyler tried to rush Sam, but now holstered it as Scrub Pot passed by me to tend to Tyler’s wound. The incident was over , Tyler was not hurt seriously, and was tended to. Sam paid him what he was due and sent him on his way.
After that things began to change. The men quit cussing when ever Sam was around and many of them would remove their hats when she passed by. She’d just smile that pretty smile of hers and ride off. Sometimes I would see wild flowers picked and left by the back of the chuck wagon where she slept at night. I kept telling myself that I had no right to be jealous, but it was no use. Caleb Tyler was long gone and the border was not far. I had to keep my mind of my work, not on how jealous I was over the attention some of the boys had begun to show Sam.

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We crossed into the Oklahoma territory the next day. Sam left Ely Jax in charge of things so we could deliver Ned Travis to whatever law there might be in Portersville. Scrub Pot was grumbling to himself all morning about where Doc had gotten to. He’d never admit that he was worried about him. I was a little concerned myself, as Doc was long over due..
“There ain’t no sherif in Portersville,” Ned taunted as I tied him to the saddle of one of our horses. “I’ll be out in no time.”
“I rather doubt that,” Sam replied as she mounted her horse. I looked up at the outlaw. “Maybe you didn’t see what happened last night,” I said quietly.
“Nope,” Ned replied smugly, “I was napping.”
“Sam had to use her knife on that drover who got out of hand last night.” I said “I thought she’d killed him with it.” Suddenly Ned lost his cocky attitude. “Well,” I continued “Scrub Pot wanted to take your scalp. He’s Blackfoot you know, and Sam, well, lets just say she is a lot more Indian than she is like you or me.” Ned looked over at Sam Dodge, thinking that maybe he’d better mind his manners. “She doesn’t carry a gun,” I went on, “She uses a knife and is real good with it too.” At that Ned shut his mouth and seemed to accept that he was about to take his last ride before the jail door slammed shut behind him.

Sam, mounted on her stallion led the procession. Scrub Pot was on Wakeeze and leading the prisoner on one of the remuda horses while Mud and I brought up the rear. . Scrub Pot had given me his shot gun, as he was sure I would never hit the broad side of a barn with my pistol, should I have to shoot at anything. We rode into the town of Portersville about a few hours later under a hot late summer sun.
It was a pretty large town. There was a main street, a hotel, general store and other businesses scattered along the center of town. It had changed greatly from the days Scrub Pot recalled of a single trading post. As we passed the black smith’s shop, I noted a line of mostly well dressed ladies waiting with their horses and mules for his services. The hammer clanged loudly as we passed by and it seemed that the attention of the ladies was on the young man who wielded it. It was not hard to find the sherif’s office, as it was just past the smithy and livery stable. I saw Doc’s black tied up in front of it. That was strange? As Sam and Scrub Pot took Ned off his horse, I went to the door . The rusty hinges protested loudly as I pulled it open and stepped into the dusty office. There behind the desk, his black hat pulled down over his eyes, his worn boots resting on the desk in front of him, was Doc. He was taking a little siesta. ‘Doc?” I said quietly. He lifted his hat, opened one eye and looked at me. Then pushed it back , but left his feet resting on the desk top. “Bently,” he said, a little sheepishly “Where did you come from?”
“The herd is just a little ways out of town,” I said “Where is the sherrif?”
Doc gave me that cockeyed grin of his “You are looking at him, ” he replied.
I was a little taken aback, “You were getting supplies for Scrub Pot when I last saw you, how the devil did you...” I began. There was a commotion outside the door and Doc rose to his feet. “It’s a long story, Bently,” he said as he crossed to the open door. “What the blazes is going on!.”
“Get in there, you son of a snake,” Scrub Pot growled as he pushed Ned through the door. Ned stumbled forward, catching himself of the edge of the desk. “Lock this horse thief up and then hang him.” he added. Then the old man noticed that the man who met him at the door was none other than Doc. Scrub Pot scowled at him. “Where you been?”, he demanded. “I am out of flour and sugar and the coffee grounds are older than I am.” Doc stared at him, and then at Ned Travis. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s but,” he declared as he took the outlaw by the arm. “Ned? Is this true ? You’ve gone to stealing horses now?”