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  ‘The Indians have no concept of the number of white men who will be coming. They don’t understand the ways of the white man and the white man does not understand them. The centuries of freely wandering the plains are almost over. It’s sad, but it’s also inevitable.’

  Mattie nodded and stirred the stew. After a long silence, she spoke without lifting her head.

  ‘I never thanked you proper for helping me, Ben. If you hadn’t come along, I’d likely have starved or died of thirst by now.’

  ‘I didn’t have much choice with a big rifle pointed at me.’ Ben smiled. ‘Besides, a man doesn’t often find a beautiful girl to rescue in the middle of the plains.’

  ‘I’ve been told that I’m pretty.’ Mattie blushed, looking at her hands. She raised her eyes to Ben. ‘But it never meant much to hear it until now.’

  Ben lit his pipe and looked off into the distance. ‘I’ve been alone most all of my life, Mattie. My father and mother died when I was about eleven and I had no other kin. I found a job cleaning a stable in Boston and slept in the loft. The owner taught me to read and loaned me books. That was my education.

  ‘I had a run-in with a gang member when I caught him trying to steal a horse out of the stable. He pulled a knife on me, but I knocked it out of his hand with a pitchfork. He grabbed an axe and I killed him with his own knife. The stable owner gave me some money and told me to leave Boston immediately because the man I killed had kin who would surely be hunting me. I headed west.’

  Ben waved his pipe at the land and looked over at Mattie.

  ‘I’ve ridden the trails for weeks without seeing another soul and it never bothered me much. A man can be complete within himself and needing no one for a time. But then, life is about building something that will last, and it needs to be shared to make it complete. For that, a man needs to care for someone other than himself. Someone who will be his equal and his companion. Someone he can respect and admire.’

  He smiled at her. ‘I’ve never looked for such a woman, Mattie. I figured that one day she’d just show up.’

  The sun was already setting beyond the great peaks now towering close to them. The heat of the day quickly gave way to the chill of the high country. Their small fire was down to coals and somewhere to the south a pack of coyotes yipped frantically over a kill. Ben poured a cup of coffee for Mattie and himself.

  ‘I’ll miss the green of Ohio,’ said Mattie, pulling her shawl tighter against the cool air, ‘but I love this land even more. The vastness of it all is a little frightening but it’s also exciting. I never knew I had adventure in me until now. I suppose I got that from my father.’

  She cupped her hands around the coffee and the warmth felt good.

  ‘Pa was a restless man. We had a good, bottom-land farm in Ohio with a solid barn and house, and we wanted for nothing, except for Pa. He longed for the great unknown, and he spoke often of the western mountains of an evening. He talked excitedly of the faraway places he had heard about from the adventurers who stopped by from time to time. Ma was happy with what we had, but she knew her man, so she quietly made plans for the move she knew would surely come someday.’

  Ben nodded and fed a few small sticks to the fire.

  Mattie sipped her coffee. ‘Then one day last winter, Pa got word of a group organizing an expedition and Ma told me that we would be leaving in the spring. We had a sale, and Pa bought our wagon and team with some of the proceeds and banked most of the rest.’ She looked straight into Ben’s eyes. ‘He carried over a thousand dollars in gold in a money belt. I took it when they died and I’m wearing it.’

  He looked up from the fire. ‘Yes, I know. When you fainted and I caught you, I felt it around your waist, and I figured it for what it was. It’s your money, Mattie. I have no claim on it nor do I want one. I have other plans.’ In the glow of the fire, Ben thought he saw a fleeting smile cross her lips, before she continued.

  ‘The trip went well at first, with folks being right friendly, but after we crossed the big river and started across that prairie, people began keeping to themselves. The mood got sullen, and there were several fights among the men. Instead of one or two main fires, folks began building their own fire next to their wagon, and the sharing of food in a pot luck fashion halted. Only the children still played together, and even that often brought a sharp word from parents for no good reason.

  ‘Then Ma took sick with the fever. The next day, it was Timmy, my little brother. Word got around quickly and folks started glancing at our wagon and muttering under their breath. Pa took to keeping his pistol close to hand and bade me do the same with my rifle. Then Pa woke up with the fever too, and the wagon folks had themselves a meeting. They robbed us and then deserted us for dead. I thought about taking a few of them with my rifle, but it would have done no good.

  ‘My brother died first, then Ma, and late that night, Pa died along with his dreams of the new lands and that left me alone for the first time in my life. I was some scared, and didn’t sleep that night, but I had to bury my family and decide what to do about staying alive. I dug what grave I could manage, but I was too exhausted to bury them. I hadn’t slept since Ma got sick, and I couldn’t bed down in the wagon, so I made up a bed in the grass and was just about to nod off when you rode up.’

  Ben smiled. ‘I guess that explains why I didn’t see you and let you get the drop on me like that.’

  Ben handed Mattie a stick with a chunk of fire-roasted venison speared on it.

  ‘Someday all this land will be tamed and civilized, Mattie. But before that happens and while I’m among the first to see it, I’m going to stake out my own patch and build as big as I can. All this is here for the taking for the man that can hold it, and that’s what I intend to do.’

  ‘Where will you settle, Ben?’

  ‘I’ll know it when I see it.’ He paused, moving the coffeepot to a cooler spot. ‘I’m telling you all this for a reason, Mattie.’ He gazed at her through the light smoke of their fire. ‘I want you to be there with me. I’ve fallen in love with you, Mattie.’

  Mattie looked off at the peaks, glowing red in the last moments of the sunset. ‘I never told you this, Ben, but I woke up as you finished the burying of my family and I watched as you knelt and prayed over the graves of complete strangers. It was the act of a good and kindly man and I fell in love with you at that moment. My answer is yes, Ben. Wherever you go, I’ll be with you and we’ll build it together.’

  She looked at him and smiled. ‘But first we marry!’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart.’ He grinned. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way. And you won’t even need your rifle!’

  Later that night, as Ben brought an armload of dead wood to the fire, he saw Mattie standing near the edge of the firelight, silently looking off to the east. He put down his fuel and walked up to her, softly placing his arm around her shoulders. After a brief hesitation, she leaned against him.

  ‘I wish Pa could have seen all this, Ben. It was his dream.’ She was silent for a moment and then she looked up at Ben. ‘You and Pa would have liked each other. You are very much like him, and that’s a compliment.’

  For a long time, they stood quietly, her cheeks damp with tears. Ben realized that it was the first time since he’d met her that she had allowed herself to grieve. Ben bent down and gently kissed her forehead. As he started to move away, Mattie whirled around and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely on the lips. Then she stepped back and looked him in the eyes. ‘I’m no prude, Ben. I have the same longings that you do, and I will happily give myself to you as your wife. But I’ll give myself to no man unless he’s willing to marry me first.’

  Ben smiled at her. ‘I would have been disappointed had you said anything else.’

  Mattie saw the valley first. A slide across the narrow mountain trail had caused them to backtrack so they took a route with no trail, chancing they’d locate another way. They’d traveled some ten miles and were about to top a ridge when Ben noticed a
pack that needed re-lashing. While he worked on it, Mattie rode on ahead, dismounted and carefully crept up to peer over the ridge as Ben had taught her. For a long time, she just sat and stared. Then she called to him.

  On the far side of the ridge was a spectacular, sweeping valley, stretching out to the south for at least twenty miles and perhaps fifteen miles wide. It was bordered on both the east and west by heavily-wooded slopes of tall, straight pines and here and there, stands of aspen. A small river flowed from a hidden source somewhere to the north and its banks were lined with giant cottonwoods. The valley floor itself was green and lush. With his glass, Ben could make out a small herd of wild horses. He saw no one and no sign of civilization. He sat back and took a deep breath.

  ‘Here it is, Mattie. We’ll build here.’

  CHAPTER 2

  For the next two weeks, they worked from dawn to dusk, putting up a small cabin near the western slope where they could enjoy the morning sun. It was also an easily-defended location and not too far for the horses to snake the building logs. There was also a nearby spring that could be reached if need be, even under fire.

  Ben laid a foundation of flat rocks and built walls of logs carefully selected, cut off the slopes, and snaked back down to the site with a team. Using his own tools and some salvaged from the doomed wagon train, he skinned the logs and squared them up. He sawed planks for windows, doors, shelves and rough furniture.

  The door and windows were constructed to be quickly bolted and shuttered should they be attacked. Gun ports covered all four walls, and were also easily shuttered. It was a wild country, and a man had to make preparations. Their few possessions and the horses would be a bonanza to a war party, and there were always the roving thieves and murderers. Both Mattie and Ben kept their rifles close to hand at all times.

  They worked together to raise the roof poles and then Ben sawed eighteen-inch sections from two large logs and began the monotonous job of splitting shingles for their roof.

  Mattie took it upon herself to level the dirt floor and then tile it with flagstones she found. She grouted it with a mixture of dirt, clay, dried grass, manure, and water. In amazement, Ben watched her from his crude, shingle-splitting bench.

  ‘I saw Pa do this. We had dirt floors and Ma hated them, so Pa put in some stone. I’d live on dirt floors if I had to, but why do that when a little work can make up a fine floor?’

  Mattie looked at the growing pile of shingles and glanced at the roof. ‘How many will it take, Ben? That looks like a great plenty to me.’

  ‘I doubt that’s even half enough, Mattie. They overlap quite a bit, but I’ll start shingling tomorrow, and we’ll see.’

  It was just over half enough, but one side was done, which pleased her immensely. He split another large pile and then showed Mattie how to split while he began roofing the remaining side. In the end, they had enough shingles left over to cover the small porch roof.

  For the fireplace and hearth, Ben selected rocks that wouldn’t explode when heated. He made two beds but separated them with a curtain. Mattie was adamant about a wedding and Ben respected her for it. He cut leather hinges for windows and doors and then one day, the cabin was complete.

  The next day, Ben found Mattie still in bed when he returned from feeding the stock. One touch of her forehead told him she was seriously ill. For a solid week she was delirious, racked with a high fever and a deep, rasping cough. Ben alternately cooled her with damp rags and wrapped her in blankets when she shivered with chills. While she slept fitfully, he gathered various herbs and roots as Indians had shown him, and made teas and broths for her to drink. It seemed to help the fever, although she was still weak and exhausted.

  Then one morning he rose to find Mattie sitting on the porch bench, sipping a cup of coffee. He thought the worst was over. But the next morning, he was unable to rise.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mattie. I said I never take sick, but I reckon I let my guard down.’

  Mattie was still weak, but she tended to Ben as well as she could. She knew they were in serious trouble. They were out of meat because he hadn’t hunted while she was sick, and she had no idea what plants he had gathered to treat her. His fever raged and all she could do was try to keep him cool and give him sips of water. She opened the corral gate and let the horses out to fend for themselves, knowing that she had neither the time nor the energy to feed them. Ben wouldn’t like it, but it couldn’t be helped.

  After a week, a delirious Ben was still very ill and seemed to be failing when Mattie heard riders outside the cabin. Catching up her rifle, she stepped out the door in time to confront four warriors.

  For a long moment, they just stared at each other. They had not expected a woman and certainly not a white woman with a rifle. Then an older-looking brave spoke up.

  ‘Where your man?’

  ‘He’s inside,’ said Mattie, ‘he’s sick.’

  He turned and gazed at the horses grazing far to the south and then nodded at her rifle.

  ‘You give us long gun. We take horses. Then we go.’

  ‘I will not.’

  ‘Then we take and burn cabin!’

  ‘You make war on women and sick men? Are you warriors or coyotes?’

  A younger brave suddenly kneed his horse forward and peered at Mattie intently for a moment. He spoke to the older one. The older one snorted angrily but turned away. They rode off.

  Puzzled, Mattie watched them go and then almost collapsed from fatigue and fear. She stepped back inside and began again to mop Ben’s fevered brow with a damp rag. Hours later, she again heard the beat of unshod hoofs. Picking up her rifle, and this time angry through and through, she stepped outside. If they still wanted trouble, they could damn well have it!

  The young warrior was back but alone this time. He reached behind him and threw a haunch of fresh venison at her feet. Then he held out a handful of herbs and plants and grunted at her. He made signs to make a tea out of them and give it to Ben. She took them and stepped back, bewildered. The young brave fixed her with his coal-black eyes and lifted his buckskin shirt to reveal an ugly but fully-healed bullet wound. Ben’s doctoring had apparently worked. After seeing the scar, she recognized the warrior as the young, wounded man on the travois. When Mattie nodded her understanding, the warrior wheeled his mount and rode off without looking back.

  She made the herbal tea and some broth from a piece of the venison and spooned it slowly to Ben. The next day, his improvement was obvious. Within a week, he was back on his feet, weak, but much better. Mattie was also weak, but they were alive. That was enough.

  For the next two months, Ben built corrals and cut hay. They were in snow country, and he wanted adequate feed for the winter. He heaped up two large stacks, ever watchful for danger, but he saw no one. He and Mattie were alone in the vastness of Tower Valley.

  He scouted the east slopes and found a natural pond. It was fairly large and perfect for watering stock with its rocky, but gently sloping banks and tall cottonwoods. The small river was fed from several small streams to the north and looked to be year-round and dependable. He followed it downstream, and found several places where it was safe to ford, but even those places had at least two feet of water. With its abundant grasses and plentiful water, the valley was ideal for a cattle ranch, and a big one at that.

  He was marking trees for timber cutting when a flash caught his eye. Mattie was using a mirror far below to get his attention. Ben waved, and Mattie pointed down the valley to the south. Looking that way, Ben spotted a lone rider with a pack horse and was instantly ashamed that he had missed the man’s approach himself. Something like that could get them killed. He silently vowed to be more watchful.

  He mounted his horse and began making his way back to the cabin. Mattie met him at the door with her rifle and they watched as the stranger rode up, looking all around and noting the well-built cabin and haystack, with obvious approval.

  ‘Howdy folks. Name’s Jim Stillwell but most folks just call me Bear on
account of a fight I had with one a few years back. I won.’

  He was a tall, thin man with slightly stooped shoulders, long, gray hair, and a tobacco-stained beard. His buckskins were marked with the sweat and grime of many miles on many trails. He looked to be about fifty, although his eyes were sharp and quick with mischievous humor.

  ‘Light and set,’ Ben replied. ‘I’m Ben Tower and this is Mattie Sullivan.’ At the puzzled look on Bear’s face, Mattie said, ‘We are to be married as soon as we find a preacher.’

  ‘Ben Tower, eh? Heard of you. You rode with Bridger some?’

  Ben nodded, surprised. He had no idea that he’d gained a reputation. ‘That’s right. We hunted buffalo.’

  ‘Needin’ a preacher, eh? Well then, you’re in luck! There’s a new town by the name of Cook’s Crossin’ just sprung up awhile back, ’bout twenty-five miles southwest of here and they have ’em a sky pilot, church and all!’

  ‘Do they have a store?’ Ben asked. ‘We’re needing to put in supplies for winter.’

  ‘Store? Why they have two stores, three saloons, and a sawmill. Some of ’em come in on a wagon train two years ago and while they was waitin’ for the spring melt to slow down so’s they could ford the river, they just up and decided that they had come far enough and they built the town right there! Since then, two more wagon trains joined ’em and now they have a right nice town. They even have a bank!’

  ‘I’ll be wanting to buy cattle come spring,’ Ben replied. ‘Breeding stock and young stuff. I’m going to make a ranch out of this valley,’ he said, sweeping his arm.

  ‘It’s a fair lookin’ land sure enough,’ said Bear thoughtfully, looking all around. ‘I wonder why nobody never claimed it afore this?’ He spat on the ground and rubbed his beard.

  ‘Mostly trappers and mountain men is all that’s ever seen it, I reckon,’ he said finally. ‘Probably just never occurred to ’em to stake it out.’