Story Homestead, Sweet, Homestead

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#74

When the storm hit, George's stew turned into soup with the downpour of water. Millie helped the cook move his huge #16 spiders full of food to the tarp covered side of the wagon.

"Say, you're right good help," George praised, earning him a sweet, captivating smile from Millie.

Like the cartoon character that finds instant love and his heart goes 'thumpty-thump' George was a goner the instant Millie smiled.


Folks, we have company. Be back soon as possible.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Pac,

A short chapter is better than no chapter....

Thanks,

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#75

Snug and dry in their wagon, Mark and Clora smiled at each other as they watched Millie and George tip toe around and trip over the newness of what they were feeling.

Chuckling, Mark reached for Clora's hand and said in a low voice, "you still do that to me, I know exactly what he is feeling."

Clora had to clear her throat to get rid of the emotional lump. "Yes," she whispered, "you are my knight in shining armor." Clora might have said more, but Mark leaned over for a kiss, and naturally she had to comply.

One kiss turned into three, and a sudden thought struck Mark. "I believe that's the first kiss we have shared without some sneaky, nosy kid interrupting us," he said with a deep growl. "I wonder if Milo is sick?"

That made Clora laugh, and she touched Mark's cheek. "Shush, he may be lurking outside with Robbie. Honey tells me that Robbie has the same gift, and he exercises that gift often."

"Serves him right," Mark was definite; "he was a rotten kid, so paybacks are music to my ears."

Corbin and his three freight wagons pulled up to the outside of Mark's wagons, offering a buffer against the storm raging out of the northwest. Dressed in slickers and low brimmed hats against the pounding rain, Corbin's drivers and security riders grabbed plates of 'stew' and stood under the tarp that was stretched tight as possible, and yet was flapping and straining against the wind.

The two huge camp spiders were slicked clean of stew and George produced something he called, "dough gobs," a type of drop biscuit made with extra sugar and raisins. The two gallons of hot coffee disappeared in a gulp or two, and the men mumbled, "thanks George," and disappeared.

An hour later, the dishes weren't done, and George and Millie were sitting, drinking the last of the coffee and trading life stories.

Corbin was sitting in his wagon laughing, uproariously amused and pleased with himself beyond measure. Old George needed a feminine influence and Corbin had Millie spotted out the moment he saw her. Corbin told Clara and she started to shake her head no, and Corbin shook his head yes.

"I understand your reservations about Millie, I know she has had a more difficult time than most people, but George, well George has a good heart and is lonely. He needs someone gentle and sweet like Millie."

"Corbin," Millie tried to be stern, and failed when Corbin winked at her. "Oh, you stop that," she almost giggled, "I guess I don't have much to say about it, do I?"

"Nope," Corbin answered smugly, "I have it all planned out."

The storm lasted all night. Early morning was a soggy mess with ankle deep mud and small lakes of tainted water. Even the fire wood stashed under the wagons was damp and sluggish to burn. It was aggravating and the whole camp was grumpy when the tiger roared, close by.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
the whole camp was grumpy when the tiger roared, close by.

The hungry tiger is calling out the clan....

Whom is hunting whom....

Millie and George are a couple???? Corbin believes so and Clora also....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#76

When the roar finished, the hair was standing up on the back of everyone's neck. Gasps of fright, and dread were heard, and then there were shouts and yells from the security men as they assembled with ready guns.

Out in the faint pre-dawn they charged, slickers flapping in the wind.

"He's out to the northwest," someone yelled; "the wind brought the sound to us."

"I can't see in the driving rain, he could be right in front of me, and I'd have to trip over him to know where he's at," came the second yell.

At that instant, there was a horses scream from the opposite side. "He got a horse," was the next yell, and the danger caused the horse herd in the center of the circle to surge to the opposite side. There were a couple of shots, and then there was quiet; broken only by the keening wind and hard splattering rain.

Deep with disgust, a man's voice yelled again, "Missed him, that sucker is quicker than greased lightening."

Chuck, Jerry and Toby were running to the side of the camp where the horses had shied away from. "Damm," Chuck roared. "He killed Moss's colt. I'm gonna hunt him down like the dirty mangy so and so that he is."

Milo came running up with a pine knot that was blazing as a torch. It illuminated the heap of colt that was just beyond the darkness. "It's dead," Milo pushed at the colts head with his foot and got no response. "It will be good bait, we've got to get that tiger in any way possible."

"The tiger didn't get to eat any of it's kill, so lets drag the carcass out away from camp and set a trap," Corbin suggested. It was agreed to by all that were present, and one of Corbin's empty wagons was pulled up within rifle range, to be used as a blind.

Chuck and Jerry volunteered to take the first watch, both of them haunted by the loss of the spirited colt they had tried to save when it was firstborn. They hunkered down and observed silence, waiting with ragefully filled hearts.

The rest of the camp was up and talking by this time. Mama's forbid children to go outside of the wagons, and Millie wasn't able to help George with his breakfast; as she had her hands full keeping the triplets inside the confining wagon.

Every once in a while, George would look mournfully at the wagon that held Millie and then go back to stirring the oatmeal he was cooking for breakfast. Having a brilliant thought, had George dishing up four bowls of breakfast mush and tapping on the 'children's home' as he called of it.

When Millie answered; George winked and passed the bowls into the noise filled wagon. Millie smiled in relief, "Oh I could just kiss you for being so wonderful," Millie gushed, and then did just that.

George blushed, hemmed and hawed, and managed to mumbled, "oh, it was just what I wanted to do, to help." and he turned and hustled back to his fire to stir the remaining cereal before it burned.

Clora and Mark were cooking their own breakfast; rather Clora was cooking and Mark was security. Under their rain tarp, they sat in silence, eating.

Seamus finally came by with the pail full of the morning's milking. "Did ye hear, Muss's baby was killed by the tiger. Poor Muss, poor the rest of us." Seamus left their allotment of milk and went moping along to the next wagon.

Mark looked out at the rain. "Come hell or high water, Clora we have to secure the additional horses and be moving on. We are close to being on the edge of not making it to Iowa, if we delay any longer."

Clora nodded gently, "the rain will present a problem, I don't think we will overcome the mud if we move on."

"I don't intend to take this wagon train into a possible winter starvation, if we are having trouble getting to this unnamed place that Tess has in her mind; then we will stop here and plant crops to overwinter." Mark was angry, and his voice was loud enough to be heard over the rain. Those that heard, raced around with the information, alerting the entire camp.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
The hungry tiger strikes again....

Trap set.... Hope it succeeds....

Thanks Pac for the Chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#77

Mark's announcement ran through the camp faster that the prairie fire they had just escaped. The clan was flabbergasted at the idea they would have to spend the winter in wagons and soddys.

"Do you really think he means it?" was the predominate theme, and when the talk got to Milo and Toby, they looked at the gathered people and said, "Dad never says anything he doesn't mean."

Heads nodded, but the members were still less than thrilled with the idea of stopping so early and squatting out on the land to overwinter.

"I'm not in favor of holding up yet," Jerry spoke up. "From what I can gather, we are somewhere about 40 miles from the Iowa border. I make that 3 days drive from here; and if Iowa is where we are supposed to be, that's where I'm headed."

Jerry's definite pronouncement reached Abby's ears and she looked at him quizzically. That was unlike the Jerry she had known.

There were shots fired from the region of the freighter's blind, a tiger's scream, and then the absolute silence that happens when the balance of nature is upset.

People were hoping that the tiger had been killed; when in the distance, there was another roar.
Shoulders slumped with the burden of the escaped from death tiger still roaming.

"I don't think Chuck is a very good shot," Andy drolly offered his opinion. Someone snickered, but Milo replied, "it sounded like he hit the tiger, just didn't kill it."

Mark wandered over to the gathered clan.

"Some of us aren't willing to overwinter here," Jerry challenged. "With or without you as leader, some of us will be traveling on. It's the last week in July, we can be in Iowa in three days and to this mythical place you keep talking about in less than two weeks, if we keep on. Do you have the horses bought so we can move on?"

The silence happened again as the balance of nature was definitely upset. No one had ever heard ANYONE challenge Mark in such a manner, and a lot of the members found themselves holding their breath, waiting for Mark to speak.

"The horses can be bought tomorrow, the real question is; are you people ready and willing to endure some discomfort and get the last push done?" Mark was very neutral, but his piercing blue eyes drilled holes in the clan's frustrated faces.

"We should have been through here three weeks ago, every little excuse has stopped our progress. Clora and I, Tess and her children, Millie and Abby are leaving tomorrow morning and pushing hard to reach our new homesteads. Any and all of you are welcome to go with us, but from here on out, we are pushing hard. It's unfortunate," Mark singled out Trish and her kids standing next to their wagon. "Trish, if you are coming with us, we cannot stop if Bruce has problems. He's tough, he can stand a lot; but we cannot endanger all for the one."

The harsh words hung in the strengthening daylight, and people shuffled and cleared their throats. It was stark truth, but without putting a soft touchy feely moment to make the truth more palatable.

Mark was honest, truthful and totally in control. "Men wishing to travel on, will be ready to go buy horses in a half hour. This is not a 'let's vote on this idea.' I'm telling you we will travel after noon time. If you are willing, you will be ready."

Ladies looked to their husbands for clues as to their state of mind. Ladies felt slightly guilty, they had done a fair amount of whining about traveling and the conditions on the trail. The idea of splitting the group again, was upsetting, and the ladies gave agreement nods to their husbands to let them know that the women preferred to go on all together.

It was Seamus that looked longingly at the valley where the bag pipe music had come from. He so badly wanted to visit with people from his homeland.

Phoebe badly wanted to keep traveling with the Linderman's, but she looked at Seamus's face and understood that big, tough Seamus was homesick. Phoebe put her hand on his arm, "go visit, we can always catch up with the main group later."

Seamus nodded, afraid to speak through his longing, he didn't want to be unmanly but he squeezed her hand and went walking rapidly toward the valley.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
The clan will be pushing off to Iowa to the unknown....

Was the tiger critically hurt????

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

Sammy55

Veteran Member
Did Seamus take his bagpipe with?? Inquiring minds want to know!

Thanks much, Mrs Pac! This book gets better and better as it goes!
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#78

As eager as he was to meet fellow Scots, Seamus was puzzled by the reception he got from the MacKay's elder Rob. It was cool, dismissive and as close to a sneer as possible without cold rejection.

Seamus pulled back a bit, and grabbed hard at his manners.

" A McCreary, you say, never heard of them." Rob MacKay was just this side of snotty rude. He made it painfully obvious he had no interest in meeting, talking or welcoming a fellow Scot.
"I'm busy, we have a group coming to buy horses this afternoon, so you will excuse me as we get ready."

Seamus's reception was equally as frosty on the MacDonald side. All members were busy matching up horses into teams, and laying out harness. The quest for horse sales was uppermost in both clans minds. Selling teams was the only way they had of making money in the new life.

Corbin waylaid Mark. "I have harness for horses the size you are using. Too small for my teams, I brought them along, as I was going to sell them to the Scots up in the valley; but I'd be proud to make you a deal for six sets." Corbin was ever the essential businessman, but fully intended to cut Mark a good deal.

"I'll drop the price by selling you four sets at a reasonable cost, and throw the other two sets in fer free."

"We don't mind paying reasonable prices," Mark retorted with a grin, "I just don't fancy haggling with the Scots all afternoon and night to get anywhere near a decent price."

"I can tell you that you need to have a hold of both your socks and your wallet if you tangle with those boys. They make their living selling and their sharp." Corbin grinned, and motioned for Mark to follow him to the back of the third wagon. "This is what I have, look them over and let me know if yer interested."

Mark called for Milo and Toby and between the three of them, they inspected every line and trace of leather.

"Good sturdy leather, not fancy but very serviceable, I think if we can make a deal with Corbin, these are what we need." Milo was looking at the inside of the large freight wagon. "I wonder how much freight he can haul at one time. I wonder if we could start a business such as this when we get up North."

"I have the freight concession up to the Missouri line," Corbin walked around the end of the wagon. "As far as I know, the concession for Iowa is open. There is a fair amount of danger involved, so be aware of that side of the business."

Milo nodded. "The harness looks good and serviceable, how much are you asking?"

"A hundred a set for six, and I'm throwing in two sets. I appreciate the friendship and acceptance you'all showed me, and I especially appreciate Clara. I never knew what I was missing, until she came along."

Mark said "sold," the same time Milo said, "It's Ma and the way she trains her ladies, ya just can't beat them for being plumb wonderful."

"You want to go horse buying with us?" Toby inquired. "Dad, the guys are ready, their coming this way."

The Linderman clan walked up into the Scots valley and the horse buying commenced with a smiling confident Mark and a nervous Rob MacKay.

When the serious bargaining was finished, both the MacKays and the MacDonalds were wet with sweat, and shaking their heads at the blood bath of horse salesmanship they had just been through.

Mark had brought all the able men from the wagon train, and as soon as a pair of horses were bought, the money was paid and the horses walked down to the makeshift corral by the wagons. The arrangement bothered old Rob, he didn't understand and commented sourly about the hurry of removing the teams, but both Milo and Toby reported the canny old Scot was up to no good and intended to cause the teams to be turned loose and poorer horses substituted in the resulting confusion.

It was the same with the teams bought from the MacDonalds. Mark drove a hard bargain, and both clans felt the censure when Seamus came over to stand with Mark. Seamus had been listening with his exceptional hearing to the snickers of the younger men, and it was he that reported to Milo about the substitution that the sellers intended to cause.

On the way down the valley with the last of the teams and harness they needed, Corbin started laughing and told Mark, " remind me to not play poker with you."

Mark shrugged modestly, but there was a self satisfied gleam in his eye. "I needed that," he said unnecessarily. "I was afraid I must be getting rusty; but that was a lot of fun. Many thanks to you Seamus, for figuring out the plot to change the good teams for the lesser animals. I figured there was some sort of shenanigan's going to happen, the sellers were a little to smooth and polished in their spiels. I especially like the first six teams we bought from the MacDonalds, and the last four from the MacKays. Well folks, lets get these animals hitched and get for the North."

Mark drove the wagons hard until dark, but he was well satisfied as he sat for supper and looked out into the dark, drinking fresh coffee and listening to the triplets play in the wagon behind him.
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#79

Corbin and his wagons waited until the Linderman train pulled out of camp. "Men, we need to find that tiger and kill it. Spread out and let's find that four legged killer and get it gone. George, you keep the fire burning and hot coffee and grub ready."

In the end, it was lovesick George that killed the tiger as it was sneaking into camp to have a horsemeat snack. A close range blast with a double-barreled shotgun caught the tiger as it was springing for a horse.

The blast also blew banty legged George on his butt, but he was the hero that saved the horse; and dispatched the tiger. Catching the tiger in the underbelly, it blew out his lungs, ending it's reign of terror. George looked at the wounded paw and the chunk blasted out of the tiger's left hand haunch, and shook his head. He felt very fortunate he was still alive to tell the tale.

The blast was faintly heard by Corbin and his men, and they wheeled around and headed back toward camp. George was sitting calmly, drinking a cup of coffee with one dusty boot on the tiger's head. All was cool, until the cook got up to get the noon meal ready and it was discovered that he had forgotten to dust off the back of his britches.

The riders and drivers all nudged one another, but no one dared to tease or rile the cook. That was the one unwritten law of the freighters. Do nothing to hassle the cook was a sacred mantra, soberly repeated,... frequently.

The noon meal was a dismal failure. Lovesick George acted like he had forgotten everything he ever knew about cooking, and the stew was scorched and still undercooked as it landed it bowls, with George daring any waddy to complain.

"Boss, what's the matter with that old fool?" the complaints were privately addressed to Corbin.

Corbin, the resident master of understatement, seriously told each complainer "George is in love and it looks terminal. If I were you boys, I'd tread lightly, it's no laughing matter to him."

"LOVE, what does that old duffer know about love and where on God's green earth would he ever find a woman that would have him?" Aldridge was about to say more, when George's aim with the large stew ladle caught him behind the ear.

"Ouch, you miserable old cussin excuse of a cook, I outta punch your lights out." Aldridge was about to make good on his threat, when he was grabbed by several drivers and hustled away from George and his 'equalizer.'

Crusty old George stood by the fire, scowling at cowboy and driver alike.

"That's it Boss. I'm quit 'n; I'm goin after her. That ain't ever happened to me before and I ain't gonna waste the opportunity tryin to over think it. If she'll have me, I'm gonna stick with'em; othertwise, I'll be back and catch up with ya befores ya get home." George was definite.

Corbin nodded, he had expected as much, from the way George and Millie lingered until the very last minute saying their goodbyes. He reached for his wallet and paid the former cook his wages for the first leg of the trip; and threw in a hefty bonus for killing the tiger.

"Don't be a stranger George, you know where to find us and I want you to know we consider you a valuable member of our family." Corbin shook hands with the cook, asking if the man wanted a saddle horse.

"Thankee, I do need a horse, and my ma's small cast iron frying pan. It's in the wagon. You've been a good boss and honorable man to work for; and I've gotta tell ya that woman of yours is a real sweetheart for putting me onto the trail of that Millie. What a woman..." and the look on George's face reassured Corbin that the cook wasn't thinking about Clara.

"Take the Bay, he's a good traveling hoss and won't let ya down," Corbin offered, "and the pan, be sure and take it with ya."

George headed for the wagon, as he knew precisely where the pan was. Corbin wandered over to the remuda and caught the Bay, throwing on an old but useable saddle and bosal. The two men shook hands again and George mounted up and left in unseemly haste, racing to catch up with the Linderman's.

"What the hay, what's wrong with that old coot getting all pissy and takin off like that. Who's gonna cook our supper?" Deem was the closest cowboy and greatly worried about his evening meal.

"I told you the man is in love and to tread lightly," Corbin stood watching George's figure ride out of sight. "I'm the cook. and if I hear any complaints, I'll fire ya." he said with a grin. "Does anyone want a tiger to skin or should we just leave him where he's at?"

No one wanted the mangled hide, and Corbin's entourage drove away, leaving the shot up body laying in the blood soaked soil. In the end, It was a low key finish to an anticlimactic reign of cold blooded tiger and lion deaths.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Pac,

The tiger is finally down and out for good....

George's heart throbs and he is off for Millie.... Good for him....

Thanks for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#80

George rode like the hounds of the Baskerville's were on the Bay's heels. He caught up to the wagons shortly after noon. He pulled up to let the horse blow, and then trotted sedately up to the wagon Millie was driving.

Millie was the picture of dejection, shoulders slumped, unhappy expression, stragglers of wispy hair escaping the confines of the sun bonnet she was wearing.

George rode up on the outside of the wagon and loudly cleared his throat.

Millie had been dissolved into self pity and the sound caught her by surprise and she jumped a foot off the wagon seat.

"George," she yelled, "where did you come from?" and the look she gave the former cook was enough to curl his toes.

"Ahh, back there," George jerked his thumb in the direction he had ridden from, finishing the sentence lamely. "Ahh, would you be wanting some company?"

"You know I want your company. Tie your horse to the side and come sit with me?" Millie invited, and George didn't have to be asked twice.

"Scoot over dear, I need to be the driver." George was every inch the courting gentleman.

Millie just looked at him and somehow batted her eyelashes, and it tickled George so, that he chuckled. For some reason it didn't seem artificial and contrived when Millie did it, it was just right, in his estimation.

"I had to come Millie, I intend to marry ya, if ya will have me." George got the whole sentence out in a quick rush of breath, and he sat, waiting her decision.

"Oh," Millie drew a soft sigh, "oh yes George. I can't believe how down and out I felt when I had to drive away and leave you. I was gonna wait till we stopped tonight and take a horse and ride back after you. But, I'm awful scared of the tiger. I just couldn't make nyself do it."
 

juco

Veteran Member
Ah! Just wait until Millie finds out that it was George that killed the tiger! Will she bat her eyes and say, My hero!? Lol

Thank you, Pac. I hope you’re on the road to recovery from your eye surgery.
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#81

Seamus married George and Millie that night. Dog tired people tried their best to give the couple a celebration and in their own way, find a present to give the beaming duo. Seamus asked for George's last name and the happy cook looked at him like he couldn't recall.

"Ah, ... Dunham it is. I ain't used it fer so long, I almost couldn't remember." That gave the whole camp a laugh, and eased some of the tiredness everyone was feeling.

The celebration turned even merrier when George announced that he had killed the tiger. It was such a relief to finally be rid of the anxiety hanging over their heads, that the women teared up and had to turn their heads and wipe away unwanted tears.

Stalwart men swallowed hard and then had to clear their throats against the relief they felt.

"Praise the Lord," Toby called out, and there were echoes of "Praise be, and Glory to the Lord."

Tired people fell into bed and groaned when Mark got the camp up bright and early the next morning.

Curley had been correct. The wagons had to be unhitched and the new teams hitched to each wagon. The trail was well worn and easy to follow, but the hills were steep. Horses labored and people got out to walk so the load was lightened as much as possible.

Andy and Donny, Chuck, Jerry and every man that that had been riding now had to sit on a wagon bench and drive a team. Even Mark had to drive, and he fretted plenty being confined and not able to scout ahead.

Late that afternoon, they passed a concrete marker that said IOWA, scratched in it's hard surface.
That night, toasts of gratitude were made with coffee cups. Mark sounded out his approval of everyone's hard work, and the main question was, "how much further are we going?"

Tess was a little embarrassed to announce that she had to keep going until she felt the right spot had been reached. "I can't say for sure, but I feel it is much closer that it has been."

If there was any grumbling about such a loose and vaporous notion, it was spoken privately among the clan and they all agreed that between Tess and Clora, they would reach the right area for homesteading.

It was a week of hard traveling when they climbed out of a valley and reached a plateau with woods, tall prairie grass and a defunct town. Empty houses were scattered around, and the small river flowed lazily nearby.

Tess stood up and steadied herself as the wagon creaked and rumbled along. Giving her Dad a piercing whistle to stop the train, Tess was shouting. "Here, this is it. This is where I need to be."
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
George and Millie are now one....

Tess and the Clan have found their home in Iowa in an abandoned town with ready homes....

Now on to planting and harvesting....

And the tiger is dead....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 
Top