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

been on the trail for so many weeks I couldn’t count them, eating dust, putting up with outlaws, Indians and Scrub Pot’s cooking. The boys didn’t complain much, and out of respect for Sam, they kept their distance from her . She was trail boss and I was crazy to have fallen so hard for her, but I had. Sam Dodge was everything I had ever dreamed of in a woman, and most likely after Abilene, I would probably never see her again. That was the sadness I felt as I finished tacking Mud and climbed into the saddle for another day of cows, heat, and dust and endless prairie.
“No sleep, Jerrod Bently?” I turned in my saddle to see Scrub Pot standing right where I had been only seconds before. How did he do that? Move so silently and quickly and how did he know I had not slept a wink. He handed up a blue speckled enamel cup of hot coffee. “Thanks,” I said as I took a sip. Yeah, it had it’s usual bitterness and bite to it, but I had come to like it. “Is Sam up yet?”
“She will be,” Scrub Pot replied “I sent Diamond to wake her. My grand daughter did not sleep well either,” he added. Suddenly I was concerned. “She isn’t sick is she?”
The old Indian grinned behind his own coffee mug. “No,” he said “She is fine, but I think she tossed and turned all night because you are in her thoughts.”
“Me?”, I questioned trying to not sound too hopeful.
“She fears the end of the drive, Jerrod Bently,” Scrub Pot said, “But not for reasons you might expect.”
‘It won’t be easy for her starting out with that ranch when she gets back to Texas,” I said.
“She will be fine with the ranch,” Scrub Pot answered confidently.”It is the life she was born for.”
“Then why is she worried about the end of the trail and selling off the cattle?”
“Because she fears losing you.” Scrub Pot replied. I stared at his weathered dark face, knowing my mouth had just fallen open. “”Me?” I managed to get out. The old man turned away,”The men will be up and wanting breakfast,” he said as he walked off .
“Hey Scrub Pot!,” I called after him.”Wait a minute!” It was too late, and like a ghost, he disappeared, leaving me with only half of the answer I was hoping to get. As I sat on my horse and shortened up my long reins, it came to me. Sam Dodge was one tough cowgirl, but may be she was falling for me after all. I pushed my reins forward, a Mud glowered at me sideways. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s but,” I said to myself . Mud simply snorted as he stepped into that long stride trot of his. I was on my way out, and pondering what the old man had said. Then at the edge of a stand of trees, as the cattle began to move, I saw her riding out toward me. Sam hadn’t seen me yet, but that was fine with me. I just liked looking at her and watching how expertyly she handled that red demon she rode.
Trouble was happy to be with Sam. I had never seen anyone other than her or Doc on that stud. I wouldn’t have dared, because I’d seen the behemoth buck a few times and just one of his powerful dives or jumps could put a man over the moon or in his grave. I respected that horse, and left him to Sam. This morning, he was prancing and showing off as I watched her ride toward me across a open prarie, her hat pulled down, her long dark hair in the usual braid down her back. As odd as it may have seemed to anyone else, who might see her, I seemed to sense that she was exactly where she belonged, here in the morning sunlight , with a thousand or so long horns passing behind her and her mounted on the red devil she loved probably more than she loved me.
“Mornin, Jerrod,” she said “You are out early. I didn’t see you at breakfast.”
“Strays,” I said “I am going out with John and Ely to catch them.”
“I have things to do too,” she said. “So I will see you later?”
“Yes,” I replied “Sam?”
“What?”
“Be careful,” I said, trying not to sound like I was worried. But I was, and I could not shake it. I was not going to tell her that I had seen Tom Dalton, one of the new hires, lurking outside the chuck wagon, just after daybreak and that was the real reason I was up before her. Diamond had barked and growled, alerting Scrub Pot that something was wrong and when he confronted Dalton himself, I stood frozen in the shadows, my hand on my gun. I watched as the man cursed at him, then turned and ran for his horse. Sam had been sound asleep and had no idea of the danger a man like him presented. I knew and so did Scrub Pot.

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It was dry and very hot. The dust was so thick we choked on it and at times could hardly see ten feet in front of our horses. The grit and dust were with us day and night and I , like the rest of the drovers found it necessary to cover my face with my bandanna. It was not very comfortable, but I could breath. The horses were sluggish but we kept the herd moving and Sam kept pushing. The idea of grazing on open range again as we got closer to the other side of the Oklahoma Territory did not seem to be in the plans.
I had already made up my mind that I was going to ride back to Grants Creek with her and Scrub Pot when the drive was over. I hoped that we’d stop in Portersville on the way back to visit Doc and his new wife. I also nursed a faint hope that Doc would go back to Texas with us. I knew trouble was brewing back there and that some how I would end up right smack dab in the middle of it. I hadn’t forgotten about the hired gunman, who thankfully, turned out to be a bungling idiot sent to kill Sam and her grandfather. I knew he’d been sent by Hinkley but then I was left out of the quiet talks that went on between Doc and Scrub Pot back in the Portersville. No matter what plan they may have been making, I was going to be part of it at any cost. Not for me so much, but for Sam. Maybe she wouldn’t love me, maybe she wouldn’t marry me, may be she would slap me silly if I kissed her again, but by the saints, she would remember me one way or another.
As we moved on across the territory, water was not as plentiful as it had been, so the herd became restless when we would start getting close to some. I had heard of stampedes and though I knew a great deal more about cattle , horses and being a cowboy, that I ever did before, I still feared what could happen under these conditions. I had quit reading my J.W. Titus novels and , I had not been anywhere where I could have purchased that latest one and besides, I did not have time for reading these days. I smiled when I thought of the afternoon I’d spent at the Double J Ranch with my favorite author, who turned out to be and authoress, and busy canning applesauce and telling me all about her newest story line. Jake Titus, her husband, seemed pretty confident that one day soon, he and J.W. would strike it rich and her dream of seeing New York City would come true. It seemed that was what she wanted to do more than anything else. Having grown up and lived most of my life there, I could not understand why.
We had been on the trail for nearly two months when two new men signed on for the rest of the drive. They were Tom Dalton and Jeb Vickers. They looked like a couple of Confederate rejects about ten years too late for the great war. I was not impressed , and I cautioned Sam about taking them on. But they were extra help after Tyler left and she felt that we needed them. They could rope and ride, but I did not like the way Tom Dalton looked at Sam or the way he watched her when she was not aware of it. I’d have to keep an eye on him. I hoped I would never have to really use my gun for anything other than hunting game, but that was unrealistic. I was no Doc Stevens, but I knew how to protect myself and had become reasonably fast on the draw.
The crew seemed to enjoyed the venison Ely Jax and I provided from time to time. I had missed the first deer I’d ever shot at and the result was a run away chuck wagon. Sometimes I wondered if that old Indian ever thought about that as he prepared the meat. I saw that familiar half smile on his face and I figured he was thinking about it. Watson, the boysenberry jam and Bird That Talks were now long gone and he was at peace. I missed Doc’s jokes and stories and the way he kept an eye on Sam. That was up to me now and my presence seemed to discourage Dalton and Vickers from bothering her.
Jeb Vickers had a chip on his shoulder. He did not get along with the men, and he was always trying to start trouble with Scrub Pot. I had seen him try