Ben McKenna, as travel stained and sweaty as his companions, but more used to long rides on horseback, grinned at the inexperienced homesteaders. He brought his mount to a stop in the clearing of a mountain forest. It was cool among the aspens and blue spruces that provided shade from the strong sun overhead. It seemed very low in the sky to the prairie farmers from Kansas.
“Boys,” Ben announced, “We’ll settle down here ’til the job’s done.” He swung out of the saddle. “Hell, relax, y’all ain’t glued to them horses are you? Get down for a rest.”
“The trip wasn’t so bad,” Zachary Steuben lied as he eased his aching body away from leather and horseflesh.
Doss Kearns opined, “It was a hell of a lot easier without a bunch of women and kids along. I ain’t never gonna forget that trip from Ohio to the Flats.”
Ed McKenna stretched his aching muscles. “I wished we coulda gone on into Caldera for a snort or two to wash away the trail dust from our throats.”
“That’s the last thing we shoulda done,” Ben said to his brother. “All of us together would attract too much attention. I’m gonna have to go into Caldera on business, but I been there before. Nobody’s gonna give me as much as a second glance.”
“You’re right,” Doss said. You never know when somebody might recollect seeing us and end up linking us to the …well…”
“The robbery,” Buford Turnbull said. “The word is harsh, but, praise God, it’s in a good cause.”
“A holy cause,” J.R. added.
“Amen!” Buford agreed. “Now! When do we get on with our task?”
“The first thing to do is scout that mine,” Ben said. “I figger on taking Doss and Ed with me. We’re gonna have to know for sure if the job’s still possible.”
“You mean we come all this way and there’ a chance we cain’t pull off this thing?” Zachary asked.
“O’course there’s a chance we cain’t,” Ben replied angrily. “The situation could change overnight for one reason or the other. Something like this can get complicated. We’re here to pull a job. And there’s a hell of a lot of risk involved; even on an easy one like this.”
“You’re calling the shots, Ben,” Doss assured him. “And the sooner we do it, the sooner we’re back home.”
Ben nodded his accord. “If we’re as careful as we should be, we’ll be here for only a short time. Let’s settle in and rest up. The horses ain’t quite played out yet, but I’d sure as hell hate to have to make ’em suddenly go on a long, fast ride. And them critters ain’t exactly built for speed anyhow.”
“More for plowing,” Zachary commented.
“Exactly,” Ben stated. “Anyhow, while we’re regaining our strength we’ll get on with the scouting.”
“When’re we going over there?” Ed asked.
“Tomorrow,” Ben answered. “And we ain’t going over there, we’re going up there.” He pointed to the hills above them. “That’s where our gold is, boys.”
The men turned to unsaddling the horses and picketing them among the trees. When that was accomplished, they gave their attention to themselves and in short order a crude but reasonably comfortable camp had been set up. Sleeping areas were carefully picked and cleared away. The place for the cookfire, which would also serve as the social center of the bivouac, evolved as a central location among the bedrolls. With all that done, the farmers settled in for an afternoon of napping and talking.
But Ben McKenna had other ideas. “Just what in hell do you fellers think you’re doing?”
J.R. Dawkins shrugged. “Relaxing, Ben, like you said.”
“Relaxing just means we ain’t riding,” Ben said. “But that don’t mean you go to sleep or sit around like it’s a Sunday afternoon after church.”
“Lord, Ben,” Ed said, close to laughing. “D’you want us to polish our saddles or something?”
Zachary chuckled. “Or shine up the skillets?”
“We’re gonna have guards,” Ed said. “And I mean ever’ hour of the day, understand? We don’t want nobody bumping into us. The six of us will each take two hours on and four off. But when me and Doss and Ed go on the scout tomorrow you can divvy it up any way that pleases you. And, if you ain’t on guard, you can make sure your gear is ready for a quick getaway. Keep your guns cleaned and loaded. Once all that’s accomplished, then you take them siestas. Understood?”
“He’s right, boys,” Doss said. “I’ll take the first turn at guard. The best place oughta be up the hill a ways; maybe by that lone fir.”
“That’ll do,” Ben said. He turned to the others. “Now y’all gather your gear together. If there’s something you don’t need, then leave it packed. This is serious business, boys.” He paused, adding, “Y’all are on the owlhoot trail now just like a gang of outlaws.”
The sodbusters turned to their tasks and the little camp lost some of its easy-going style as various pieces of gear were either gathered up within convenient reach or packed away altogether.
By evening the group had settled into their new routine. The coming and going every two hours of the guards gave them a comfortable feeling of the systematic order that they were used to in their lives; like doing chores. The quick mountain nightfall was both unexpected and disliked by the plainsmen. The towering mountains around them gave a short exposure to sunshine, but the farmer’s weariness helped them to ignore the unappreciated phenomenon as they settled in for the night.
~*~
The next morning was Ben’s turn for chastisement. The farmers were up and bustling a good half hour before he awoke. His brother Ed had a cup of coffee ready for him as he sheepishly rolled out of his blankets. “I been up once since I come off guard,” he joked. “I just decided to take a nap before mid-morning.”
“Good God above, Ben!” J.R. marveled. “It’s a waste of talent that a natural-born fibber like you don’t have a wife to practice on.”
“How do you fellers know I ain’t got a pretty little gal waiting for me?” he asked. “That is, if I wanted to keep her. If not I’ll look for a prettier one.”
Doss grinned. “Oh, for the life of a bachelor, huh, boys?” He finished off his breakfast of flapjacks with a loud belch as he pulled his pipe from a shirt pocket. “What time are we going to take a look at that mine, Ben?”
“Right now,” Ben said, gulping down his coffee. “Once I’m close on work, my appetite goes.” He looked over at his brother. “Hey, Ed, are you ready yet?”
“Ready, hell!” Ed replied. “It’s your horse I’m saddling.”
“That’s all I was waiting for,” Ed said, laughing. “C’mon, Doss, let’s go get a first look at our gold.”
The others watched as the trio mounted up to leave the camp. They rode upward toward the guard post where J.R. Dawkins was on duty, holding his rifle in the crook of his left arm. The farmer grinned. “Pick out some big nuggets for me, will you, boys?”
“We’ll find you some good’uns, J.R.,” Ed promised with a wink. “Don’t you worry a bit about that.”
~*~
Ben McKenna made sure they took it easy on the horses as they ambled higher into the great Rocky Mountains. The trip would have normally taken about an hour, but they nearly doubled the time by the careful route Ben had chosen. Finally he signaled them to stop speaking by pressing a finger to his lips. Both his companions sensed they were close to the morning’s destination.
Ben reined up and dismounted as Doss and Ed followed his example. “We’ll tie off the horses in these trees,” Ben whispered. “Can ya’ll see that ridge yonder through the brush? Right on the other side and dang near straight down for a fifty or so feet is where the gold is.” He drew his pistol, then winked at them. “Just in case,” he said, hinting broadly with a meaningful glance at their weapons.
Doss pulled his pistol free. It was one he’d had since his service in the Union Army. “I got my Winchester carbine in my saddle boot, but I prefer this handgun. It may be an old fashion ball and powder, but that shooting iron is as good as any cartridge loader.”
“It all depends on the man,” Ben said. He grinned at Ed who pulled his shotgun from its leather container. “That scattergun’ll do fine if we need it. Now y’all be careful. C’mon.”
They eased their way upward, trying to avoid making noise among the dead branches and loose stones until they were near the crest. Then the three crawled slowly up to the edge and peered down.
Ben was grinning with excitement. “By God! Things look good, don’t they?”
“They seem fine from here,” Doss said.
Several old buildings could be seen at the mining site in the small valley below them. From the condition of some it was obvious that the siding had been torn loose to put to better use elsewhere. Only two buildings were in use. One was the old company office of the former mining company. It seemed to be used as a living quarters for the men working in the area. The other was the smelter—cold and still—but an obviously good storage area. Ben pointed to it.
“That’s where they keep the gold.”
“How do you know that for sure?” Doss asked.
“Don’t you worry none, friend,” Ben assured him. “I know.”
They watched the bustling activities below for a bit more than an hour. Two men were panning in the sluice, and four more were bringing wheelbarrows of ore out of the mine. These were dumped into the trough-like structure where the running water acted as an artificial creek.
The workers all wore the same style white flannel shirts and black wool trousers stuffed into heavy boots. Their hats, also black, were wide-brimmed and low-crowned affairs that seemed strange but functional. Another striking detail was the men’s beards. Short-cropped, the growth ringed their faces without moustaches or neck whiskers.
“I guess their coats is inside that old smelter,” Doss said. “And I’d wager they’re as dark and unadorned as them britches.”
“You’re right,” Ben remarked.
From the appearance of things, the workers seemed to be gathering no gold at all from their efforts. Doss made a pointed remark about it.
“The daily pickings is lean,” Ben admitted. “I never said they was hauling the stuff outta there a ton at a time But them fellers have been at this for five years—six days a week—without let up. And they ain’t toted none of it away. It’s all down in that smelter building.”
“God, I hope you’re right, Ben,” Doss said.
“C’mon,” Ben said. “We been here long enough.”
They withdrew as silently and carefully once more concentrating on silence. After mounting the horses, they continued their self-imposed sound discipline until they were well down the mountain.
“Are we gonna hit ’em tomorrow, Ben?” Ed asked.
“Nope,” Ben answered. “I gotta go to Caldera tonight, so I won’t be back ’til late tomorrow afternoon. There’s some business I got to take care of. So I reckon we’ll let them Brethren dig us out a little more gold.”
“It don’t look to me like they’ll get us much,” Doss said.
Ben was angry. “Godamn it! I told you there was plenty of gold. Don’t you fret about nothing, d’you hear me, Doss Kearns?”
“Hell’s fire, Ben,” Doss said. “I didn’t mean to rile you or nothing. I ain’t complaining, just making a remark.”
“Then don’t be so damn gloomy,” Ben retorted.
“I think we’d best get on back to the others,” Ed suggested. “They’ll want to hear about what we seen.”
“Sure,” Ben said. “Let’s ride on. We got get to this show on the road.”
~*~
The McKenna home, like similar ones on the Flats, was a simple structure. The homestead laws stated that anyone staking a claim had to erect a permanent abode within thirty days of moving on the land. Due to time and financial constraints, the sodbusters put up simple, one-room structures; most were around thirty-by-twenty feet. All planned to add to the houses later and also partition off rooms as they prospered from their farming.
Now, all the Kiowa Flats women—Elvira McKenna, Lilly Doss, Mary Beth Dawkins, Edna Lee Steuben and Nora Turnbull—were gathered in the McKenna home. This came about through the simple fact that there’s nothing that makes work for a woman like her man. And with the husbands gone, their wives found time to tend to the more pleasant aspects of their lives. Like a good old fashion quilting bee at the McKenna place.
Edna Lee Steuben, young and pregnant, made her stitches with nervous little movements. “I wonder just how long it’s gonna take ’em.” She smiled uneasily as she glanced around at the older women. “Don’t anyone have any idee a’tall?”
Elvira McKenna laughed. “It won’t be long, Edna Lee. You’d best remember that you shouldn’t fret in your condition.”
“It’s just that this is the first time me and Zachary’s been apart,” she said. “That’s what makes it such a trying situation for me.”
Nora Turnbull laughed out loud. “I for one am glad to be rid of ’em for awhile. I never thought I’d know such peace and quiet.”
Lilly Kearns joined in her friend’s laughter. “Maybe we’ve died and went to heaven without knowing it.”
Mary Beth Dawkins, her face grim, scarcely heard the banter around the quilt that was spread among them. She knew the truth of the men’s trip and the knowledge was boiling inside her despite efforts to suppress the foreboding that gnawed at her.
“Maybe we can talk ’em into taking up prospecting full time,” Elvira said, giggling. “That way we wouldn’t have to do their laundry but once a year when they come home to change their socks and give us all the gold they dug up.”
“If that was all they came home for,” Nora said, “we wouldn’t see ’em ’cept ever two years.”
“Five years!” Lilly corrected her as the other women howled their merriment.
“I cain’t believe y’all don’t miss ’em,” little Edna Lee said, protesting mildly while still smiling at the humor.
“Honey,” Elvira said, “once the field’s plowed, the horses is stabled and the fences mended, there ain’t no earthly reason to have a man around.”
Lilly nodded at Edna Lee’s belly. “Well…this young gal is showing us at least one more reason a woman might need a man for a spell.”
Edna Lee broke out into laughter. “You stop that, Lilly Kearns!”
Elvira noticed Mary Beth Dawkins concentrating on her sewing. “Are you all right, honey?”
“Beg pardon?” Mary Beth said.
“Are you feeling okay?” Elvira repeated. “You been so hushed up and quiet, I almost forgot you was here.”
“I’m fine,” Mary Beth said uneasily.
“You look kinda grim,” Nora Turnbull commented.
Mary Beth dropped her hands to her lap and sighed. “Oh, Lord! Am I the only one that knows?”
“That knows what?” asked Edna Lee, now alarmed.
“Didn’t your men tell you nothing?” Mary Beth asked.
“Now let’s just wait a minute,” Elvira said. “You’re getting us all a mite worried, Mary Beth. Maybe you’d best tell us what it is that’s bothering you.”
Mary Beth swallowed hard. “Y’all only think the men’s gone off to prospect gold, but J.R. told me the truth before he left.” She started to speak, but as her emotions got the best of her, she began to sob. “They’re gonna…steal it…that’s what they’re gonna do.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” Lilly Kearns scoffed. “The idee that our menfolk are the type to go and rob somebody is pure hogwash.”
“It ain’t!” Mary Beth said tearfully. “There’s some crazy folks over to Colorado that’s got this here ol’ mine. That’s where they’re gonna get the gold.”
Nora Turnbull laughed out loud. “J.R. was only funning you, honey. That’s the silliest thing I ever heard of. What would crazy folks be doing with a gold mine anyhow?”
“I don’t mean the type of people they put in asylums,” Mary Beth explained. “They’re some kinda church or religious bunch. They live off by themselves and mine that gold…” She hesitated, then looked straight at Elvira, her eyes narrowing into an angry glare. “It’s all your fault, Elviry McKenna! It was your brother-in-law that put ’em up to it.”
Elvira’s face paled. Now she completely believed the story. Ben had finally managed to pull Ed into something he’d have trouble getting out of. And to make things worse, their best friends were involved as well.
Mary Beth suddenly wailed out loud. “Good Lord! They’re either going to jail or get kilt. I just know it!”
The woman wept piteously as the stunned women stared at each other.
~*~
Ed McKenna was taking his turn on guard duty. He leaned back against the fir tree and took a lazy glance down into the camp. It was early evening and the farmers were starting their supper fire. He looked forward to the plateful of beans and bacon that would be waiting for him when he was relieved from watch. Ed gave his attention back to his duties and let his eyes peer through the tree-filled landscape.
His thoughts turned to Elvira. She had been on his mind quite a bit lately, and it surprised him. Even more startling was the revelation to himself that he actually missed her and yearned for her company. They’d married in ‘69—fifteen years now—and, like Elvira had said just before he left for Colorado, they’d never been apart since.
He felt sincere regret about the several birthings she had endured in such pain and torment only to lose the babies before they reached their first year. The last birth had a physician in attendance, and Ed thought that was why Orvie survived. The joy in Elvira’s eyes when she saw the healthy child was something to behold. But the doctor warned him not to know her as a wife again because once or twice more in labor would kill her. Period.
Ed had adjusted himself to this big change in the marriage. They never discussed the situation, but he was sure she knew that he took one of the soiled doves in Dodge City now and then. But that wasn’t so unusual. There was many a man who could no longer claim his rights as a husband because of his wife’s health. Naturally, he would seek relief where and when he could find it. The women were probably grateful for the prostitutes that took that the dangerous coupling out of their lives.
But, thanks to this trip, he knew there was still a genuine fondness and rapport between him and Elvira. They would always be partners in life and each one’s destiny was tied to the other’s.
Ed caught a movement in the distance and stood up for a better view. He spotted two riders in the trees and was instantly alarmed. He started to warn the others, then thought it best to wait. The horsemen were still a ways off. And they might travel past the camp.
A few minutes later they were still heading straight at Ed. He became worried, and started to go down to alert the farmers, then hesitated. There was something familiar and reassuring about the man in the lead. Finally he realized who it was. The rider leaned slightly to his right and forward. Only his brother sat a horse like that. But he was curious about the other.
When Ben was close enough, he hollered a greeting and waved. Ed returned the salutation, and waited for his brother to ride up with his companion.
Ben came to a stop, grinning happily. “Howdy, Brother Ed.”
“Hello, Ben,” Ed said trying to see around him to get a look at the other rider who had accompanied him.
Ben gestured. “This here is Rebecca Morris. Folks call her Becky.” He looked at her. “This is my brother Ben.”
“Pleased, ma’am,” Ed said, startled to see the rider was a female.
“How do,” Becky said. She was a young woman, rather attractive despite her loose-fitting trail clothes. Her raven hair flowed loose from under the Montana peak she wore.
“Ain’t nobody coming this way,” Ben said. “Forget the guard duty and c’mon down to the camp. I got something to tell ever’body.”
Ed followed after the two, trying to figure out in his mind why Ben had brought a woman back from Caldera with him.
Ben wasted no time in introducing the girl. Each of the sodbusters acknowledged her politely. Ben cheerfully spoke up, “Boys, Becky here is the one that told me about the mine. Without her this whole thing wouldn’t’ve been possible. I reckon as how we owe her our gratitude.”
Doss Kearns wasn’t caught up in the mood that Ben was trying to create. He lit his pipe as he peered over at the young woman. “Just how’d you know about that gold, Missy?”
“I used to be a member of the Communal Faith,” Becky replied. “Ever’body in the Faith knows about the gold.”
“Hey,” Ben shouted good naturedly, “let’s give the girl some hot coffee, huh? That wasn’t no easy ride all the way up here from Caldera.”
“Surely,” Doss said. “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Becky. Zachary, fetch a cup of coffee.”
Becky took the hot drink and gingerly sipped it. She grimaced at the strength and bitter flavor of the brew.
Zachary Steuben shrugged apologetically. “We’re used to our womenfolk looking after us. None of us make good coffee.”
“It’s hot and strong,” Becky said. “I reckon that’s what counts.”
“Let’s all have a cup and settle down here for a nice chat,” Ben said. “We got some things to discuss.”
“Is it still on for tomorrow?” J.R. Dawkins asked as the farmers situated themselves around the fire.
“Sure as shooting,” Ben intoned. “And I want y’all to know that Becky here is part of the set-up.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Doss asked.
“Hell, Doss, it means she gets a share,” Ben answered. “A full share.”
“You never said nothing about nobody else,” Buford Turnbull complained.
“I thought I’d mentioned the girl that told me all about this,” Ed said. “Sure I did. I remember. In Ed’s barn.”
The others started to speak at once, but Doss quieted them down with a gesture of his hands. “This ain’t worth arguing about. Whether Ben said the girl would be part of the deal or not ain’t important. What matters is that she’s here now, and that’s that. She gets a share as far as I’m concerned.”
“I was in on this from the start,” Becky said. “I didn’t just come wandering along.”
“O’course, you didn’t,” Doss said kindly. “And nobody here has a thing against you. Right, boys?”
The farmers reluctantly agreed, and Ben seemed to relax. “Well, that’s settled then.”
“You ain’t got nobody else coming around, do you, Ben?” Doss asked.
“Nope,” Ben replied. “The whole gang’s here now.”
Doss turned his attention back to the girl. “What’s this Communal Faith you was talking about?”
“They call theyselves the Brethren of the Communal Faith,” Becky said. “I wasn’t borned into it. I got there after my folks died and my aunt and uncle took me in. They’d already been converted and was on their way to join Elder Brother when I showed up. They toted me along with ’em.”
“Who’s Elder Brother?” Buford Turnbull asked.
“He’s the leader,” Becky informed him. “And he’s the meanest looking man I ever knowed. I never ever seen a drunk Texas cowhand as mean as that old man. But him and his people is plumb crazy the way they believe that they’re special and got the answer to ever’thing. They believe God speaks directly to Elder Brother and whatever God says—or Elder Brother thinks he says—that old man will do it. Elder Brother is ornery on account of the way folks has treated him in years gone by. He’s been run outta most places he tried to settle in. They say he was even tarred and feathered in Wichita.”
“What the hell for?” J.R. asked.
“For the way he—they—believe,” Becky said. “They don’t follow the Bible so much as they do the revelations that Elder Brother has. He’ll just pop up one day and say the Lord has give him orders, then he’ll announce ’em and the folks go along with whatever he says.”
“That ain’t no reason for people to hate him,” Doss said. “As long as he don’t harm nobody.”
“He don’t do nobody no harm,” Becky admitted. “But it’s just the way him and his people believe. In the Brethren of the Communal Faith a man can have as many wives as he can support.”
“See!” Ben McKenna announced triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell y’all that?”
“He says it was one of his first revelations,” Becky said. “The Brethren has to multiply and grow. That’s the way he puts it.”
“What’s this Elder Brother’s name?” Ed asked.
Becky shrugged. “Elder Brother is the only name I ever heard him called. As a matter of fact, after people join the Communal Faith, he baptizes ’em with Hebrew names. Elder Brother says them old Hebrews was God’s first children, but they was disobedient of him, so he has abandoned all the Israelites. Elder Brother says that God has put him in Moses’ place.”
Buford was interested. “You say he baptized people with Hebrew names?”
“He don’t baptize ’em,” Becky explained further. “He anoints ’em. And he only preaches from the Old Testament. I was given the name of Hephzipah.”
Ben laughed. “That’s a damn good reason to get out of there.”
Buford was shocked. “Are you saying them Brethren ain’t Christians?”
“No they ain’t,” Becky answered. “Elder Brother claims they’re now God’s chosen people.”
“By heaven above!” Buford exclaimed. “Now I know what we’re doing is ordained by God Above. Hallelujah!”
Doss Kearns gave Becky a close look. “How come you run away?”
“I left ’cause Elder Brother had picked an old man to be my husband. The geezer already had two other women.”
“How many wives does Elder Brother got?” Buford Turnbull wanted to know.
“None,” Becky said. “Elder Brother says God has put him above the flesh so he wouldn’t have no particular women and kids to worry about. He also makes the people wear the same kind of clothes so’s the Brethren will all feel and think alike instead of disagreeing and arguing among theyselves. Nobody is supposed to be better’n anybody else. ’Cept for Elder Brother o’course.”
Buford Turnbull slammed his fist into one palm. “This damnable group of pagans has gotta be wiped away, boys, they’re a pox on God’s green earth.”
“Amen!” echoed young Zachary Steuben.
“So you left them Brethren, huh?” J.R. asked.
“O’course she did!” Buford exclaimed. “You cain’t expect a maiden like this to stay in that nest of heathens, can you? The child must have strong character if she broke away from ’em.”
“I didn’t run off,” Becky said. “They throwed me out when I disobeyed Elder Brother about that marriage he wanted to put me in.”
“It still speaks well of you, Missy,” Buford insisted.
“I don’t want to talk about it, please,” Becky begged.
“Well, nobody’s gonna try to make you,” Doss promised. “I reckon between what Ben told us before and what you said, we understand exactly what we’re doing now. I ain’t no real religious man, but I got to agree with Buford. Getting that gold outta Elder Brother’s hands has got to be a sacred task give us by God.”
“Amen!” Buford Turnbull shouted in agreement.
Ben stood up. “I’m glad that ever’body’s raring to go now. Let’s turn in early tonight. There ain’t no sense in posting guards neither since now I know for sure we’re out here all by our lonesomes. The nearest folks is them Brethren and they’re up that mountain a ways. Tomorrow we’ll pull the job and start for Amarillo. It shouldn’t take us long. Ya’ll will be home in a coupla weeks or less.”
“Ben,” Buford said. “Can I talk to you for minute? Private like.”
“Sure,” Ben said as the preacher took him by the arm and led him a short distance from the others. “What can I do for you?”
“You ain’t planning on bedding with that gal, are you?”
“I been doing it before,” Ben replied. “I cain’t see no reason to stop now.”
“This here’s a blessed task we’re on,” Buford argued. “And you sinning with that gal might spoil things.”
Ben was angry. “Now you listen to me, old man, I don’t let nobody spoil my chances when I want a woman, understand? Me and Becky are gonna use the same bedroll out a ways from the camp all by ourselves.”
“It ain’t right!” Buford hissed. “The Lord above will take his protection away from us.”
Ben thought a moment. He’d never been on a job that had God’s blessing before. He decided what Buford was saying might have some truth in it. “All right, Buford, we’ll use separate bedrolls.”
“And don’t do no sinful fornicating a’tall,” Buford commanded.
“Agreed.”
When they returned to the campfire, Buford called for attention. “Before we turn in, I’m gonna lead us in some strong prayer. I want to remind ever’body that we’re girding our loins for a sacred undertaking. God’ll be leading us, have no fear of that. Now bow your heads.”
The farmers from the Kiowa Flats, accompanied by Ben and Becky, adapted a prayerful attitude as Buford began his holy oration.