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

“For a while,” she said “And you can call me Sam. I’ve been called that since I can remember.”
“Ok, Sam,” Hap began “Tell me about your life back East. It might be good to pass the time that way. Sounds interesting.”
“What about you?”, Sam asked “Where did you come from?”
“Sweden,” he said “at least Grand Pappy and my Pa did. “
”Were you born here?” Sam asked.
“We come out West on one of them wagon trains from Saint Louis when I was a baby,” Hap said “Grand Pappy and Pa started a livery and black smith business in Portersville when it was not much more than a trading post. They are still running it and I guess one day I will have my turn. That will be after I get out of the Cavalry.”
Sam gave the young man a doubtful look. “You?,” she said “Are you sure that is what you want to do?”
“Already signed up.,” Hap replied proudly “I took this job with Sherrif Stevens until they call me for duty.”
“My Grandfather was in the cavalry,” Sam said “I remember it, even though I was just a small child.”
“What did he do?” Hap asked “Was he a scout? I mean, obviously he is an Indian.”
“Blackfoot.,” Sam said proudly “and he was the best horse trainer Fort Dodge ever had. His whole life has been horses. He took his name from Fort Dodge when he married my grandmother.”
Hap turned to Sam, looking at her dark eyes and long shining auburn hair. “I see him in you,” he comented “Was your grandmother white?”
“She was. ,” Sam replied “Alice Marley was her name. She was a trapper’s daughter. My Grandfather left his tribe to be with her.”
“Is she back at Fort Dodge?” Hap asked.
“No,” Sam replied quietly “She died a long time ago.”
They rode along in silence for a while. “Your head aching?”, Hap asked, trying not to sound too concerned. “No,” Sam replied stubbornly “and laying back there isn’t going be make any difference. Just like I told you. ”
“Well, then, tell me about that cowboy,” Hap teased “Jerrod. Was that his name?”
Sam glared at him feeling he was asking way too many questions. “Jerrod Bently,” she replied “Why do you ask?”
Hap grinned, “Thought he might be your sweetheart or something.”, he said .
“No,” she lied “We were working together on the drive. That is all.”
“He killed a man over you,” Hap stated “I’d say he’s more than just a drover.”
“Shut up , Hap,” she warned “Jerrod Bently is none of your concern.” Now the young deputy was sorry. He had upset her, and that would not set well once Doc got back. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he apologized “I should not tease you. Don’t know you well enough for that. “ He was quiet now as he drove the team along, while she fumed at his remark. Sam did not want to talk about Jerrod, because it hurt too much. She never wanted to be with any man before like she wanted to be with him, heck, she’d never been with a man in her life. All she felt was confused.
“I have a sweetheart,” Hap volunteered “Back in Portersville. Her Pa doesn’t like me. He thinks I am a weary willy, but I ain’t. One day I am going to prove to him that he’s got me all wrong and then I am going to marry that little gal.”
“What’s her name?”, Sam asked.
A bright smile lit the young man’s handsome face. “Susanna Faye Titus.”
“Doc’s friend Jake’s daughter?”
Hap grinned slyly, “Yes indeed, ” he said “and the future Mrs. Haplen B. Johansen the third.”
Sam was watching the horizon ahead of them, while Hap chattered on about Suzy Titus and his plans for the future. Her senses were telling her something. “Shhh,” she hissed as she put her hand on Hap’s arm. “Do you hear that?”
Hap listened carefully hearing only the sounds of the prairie around them. “What am I listening for?” he asked.
“That.” Sam insisted “Can’t you hear that sound?”
“It’s just thunder, Miss Sam,” Hap replied “Probably storming somewhere.”
“ Thunder doesn’t shake the ground,” she said . Suddenly she was on her feet, standing in the front of the buckboard shading her eyes against the hot afternoon sun. “Buffalo,” she said “I don’t see the dust yet, but we better get out of here.” Moving as she had caused her injured ankle and knee to send sharp waves of pain up her leg, and she fell back to the seat of the wagon. Hap caught her and steadied her. “You all right there, Sam,” he asked worriedly. She nodded and gripped the metal hand rail as the side of the seat.
“Then hang on,” Hap said “Will that stud run with us?”
“You bet he will,’ She said as she handed Hap her knife. “Cut him loose.”
“What?”
“Do it,” Sam ordered . Hap handed the reins of the team over to Sam, she gripped them in her right hand, as Hap scrambled to the back of the wagon and sliced though the stud’s lead rope. By now Trouble sensed the danger and began to snort, nostrils flaring. Sam shouted something to him in the Blackfoot language as Hap returned to his seat and took the reins and turned the buckboard around . The stud reared up and took flight in the very same direction Hap was heading the wagon. There was no dust cloud, but the ground trembled and the sound of thundering hooves grew louder and they fled. Trouble, ran full out, first beside the wagon and then in front of the team. “What is he doing?”, Hap shouted to Sam as they flew over the prairie.
“Follow him,” Sam yelled back. A huge light brow dust cloud appeared on the horizon behind them. A giant herd of buffalo bore down on them from out of the South. Where was Doc? Had he seen them? “Put you hand on us all, Lord,” she prayed silently. There was nothing more dangerous than a stampede and their only hope was to get out of the way and into some kind of shelter. Trouble changed direction and suddenly there appeared behind a stand of trees, the opening to a hidden canyon of sorts. Without hesitation, Trouble ran through the opening the lathered team and the buckboard close behind him. “Where’s Doc?!’ Sam cried “Oh God!!” The ground was shaking now, and the dust cloud was thick and nearly on them. The thunder of many heavy hooves was deafening. They could hear the war cries of the braves driving the herd on. It was a frightening sound.
The pain in her head excruciating, but before Sam could say any thing about it, a black streak passed her as she sat there on the wagon seat. White lather was all over Smokey Joe as he skidded to a halt. He was heaving with exertion, but he and Doc had escaped the stampeding herd of buffalo. The roar filled the canyon as the stampede rushed by. “Apache,” Doc shouted to Sam and Hap. “Hunting party.” Safely in the shelter of the rocks around them, they watched the awesome sight as hundreds of shaggy brown bison, rushed passed just beyond the trees. Beside them and behind then were the Apache warriors, mounted on fast horses. They were colorful in their deer skins and beads, brandished their weapons. They were hunting for the best kill just as they had for thousands of years.
“Take a good look, “ Doc said sadly “And remember it, because one day the buffalo will all be gone.”
“And the Apache too,” Sam thought sadly as they watched from the safety of their cover. “Siksika”, she whispered to herself “I never will forget, Grandfather.” The thunder of the buffalo and the cries of the hunters faded into the distance but the dust still hung thick in the air. Doc looked around himself. “It’s pretty late in the day,” he said “This place is good as any to spend the night.” He looked at Sam, seeing the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her bruises had begun to fade, but she looked very tired. “You need to rest Sam?” he said. She watched Doc catch Trouble and tether him to the back of the wagon. “I am all right, Uncle Elliot,” she said “Just tired and stiff.”
“Ain’t no wonder,” Doc replied as he stood beside the front wheel of the buckboard. “I figure we ought to make Portersville sometime tomorrow or the next day if the weather holds,” he said “Now I want you to lay down. You are not ready to get back in the saddle yet.”
“I know,” she answered “But I don’t have to like it.”


Portersville, The Oklahoma Territory