Conditions on the return trip to Flat Peaks were much nicer. A couple of rains had cooled things off and settled the dust. The stage curtains could be raised, showing off the mountains’ beautiful horizon a mile or so north. The foothill’s fall foliage of yellow, orange, and red leaves was tucked against the green pine trees.
The stage left Denver at daybreak, and though their past week’s city life had started early and ended much later than their accustomed bedtimes, the Double D group all remained awake. During the journey, Liz and her mother rested their heads on their husbands’ shoulders thinking about the activities of the past few days. The elegant atmosphere of the hotel, the fashionable demeanor of the women, the theater experience, the presidents’ speeches, and the festivities at the ball. Douglas’ thoughts were on the plans for the two buildings he’d be constructing come spring, the ordering of the printing press, and Jake’s apprenticeship.
They were brought back to the present when the stage wheel fell into a hole, jostling them about. However, it wasn’t long before their thoughts returned to Denver. Scar had his head leaned back on the seat cushion with his hat pulled down over his eyes thinking about President Hayes’ words of encouragement during the speech at the statehood dedication. The president had said the country was growing at an unprecedented rate, with people migrating in from many foreign lands, and that all must learn to live with a population of different cultures, races, and beliefs, offering the new arrivals the same freedom and economic opportunities as the established populous. And he included in the populous the Native American tribes, the recently freed slaves, and the women of the land. The president went on to say for the country to survive the centuries of tomorrow, the esteemed men and women of this great land must be willing to step forward and serve in the governing process, fighting for the rights of all. He said it was imperative people live their lives according to the principles and laws established by Almighty God, and the laws of the land must support those beliefs. He emphasized the fact there would be periods of struggle and setbacks, but the new way of governing must be endured with eyes on the future, so a better way of life could be passed down to the next generation…and the next…and the next.
Three days later, in late afternoon, their buggy crossed the bridge at the Double D homestead. As they pulled up to the porch to unload their luggage, the front door opened and the whole clan came running out. There was a lot of hugging. Someone asked if they had a good time on their trip.
“We had a great time,” said Mr. Douglas, “but I’m glad to be home.”
“That goes for me, too,” Mrs. Douglas said.
Sleep came early to the four travelers.
»»•««
It was the middle of November, four months since Jake’s beating by the railroad bullies. His leg was well along in the healing process. However, it was still unknown if the bone fragments had returned to their proper place. He wore a leather brace around the injury, which allowed him to move about quite efficiently on crutches. His attitude had improved considerably since he was able to be up and about, but he still had moments of depression, feeling as though his life was in shambles. Rebecca had been faithful about coming to the ranch at first but slowly slacked off in her visits. She was downhearted because Jake never talked about marriage as he had before his leg was broken. In fact, they seemed to have very little in common anymore. She felt like an outsider when at the ranch and had a feeling something was going on between him and Betty. His eyes lit up every time Betty walked into the room.
The clan had finished eating the noon meal and was still at the table waiting for their cups to be refilled when they heard someone ride up. Mr. Douglas opened the door to the sheriff. “Howdy, Sheriff. Morning Sun is pouring coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“I sure would,” the sheriff said. Mr. Douglas took his coat and hat. “I’m chilled to the bone.”
After the lawman took a chair by the stove, Mr. Douglas asked, “What brings you to the Double D? I can tell you have something on your mind, Sheriff. What is it?”
The lawman’s forehead furrowed as he answered, “Rebecca plans to catch a stage for St. Louis later this week,” he said, looking at Douglas. “She wanted to come out herself and say her goodbyes, but she couldn’t get up the nerve, so she sent me. She didn’t want you to find out of her leaving through gossip you’d hear at your Thanksgiving party next week.” Everyone’s eyes went from the sheriff to Jake, but his face was expressionless.
Liz quickly thought of the school children. She remembered the doubts and concern the parents had when she turned over the teaching position to Rebecca, and now another change was coming. She also remembered the ache she felt when she and Bart vacated their house in Flat Peaks for Rebecca and moved to the ranch. Of course, at that time everyone thought Rebecca and Jake were getting married.
“Will Rebecca be coming back?” Liz asked hopefully. The sheriff shook his head. “What about the school? Are the children left without a teacher?”
“Her plans have been in the works for a couple of weeks. She talked to the town board and told them she would stay until a replacement could be found, which she expected to take four to six months, but they were able to hire a teacher on very short notice. The new teacher will arrive soon and will be introduced to the children.”
Morning Sun poured more coffee. The sheriff continued, “Rebecca said to tell you that you’re wonderful people, that you’ve treated her like family, and her decision to leave was the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’m not supposed to say this, but things changed for her after Jake’s injury.” The sheriff looked with sincerity at Jake. “We’re not blaming you, Jake, neither Rebecca nor me. It didn’t work out.”
Jake struggled to his feet and said, “Sheriff, I didn’t treat Rebecca right after I got hurt. I was all wrapped up in self-pity and was only thinking of myself. Please tell her I’m sorry for the way I acted toward her. I’m ashamed of myself.” He sat back down. His eyes were wet.
Words became scarce as the cups were emptied. Then the sheriff nodded his goodbye and went to his horse. Everyone watched until he disappeared beyond the valley hill, not wanting to accept what they’d been told.
»»•««
The winter weather of 1877 was much worse than in previous years. Heavy snowstorms and extreme cold temperatures came the week following Thanksgiving and hadn’t let up yet through February. Snow on the ground was nearly three feet deep, with many drifts above one’s head.
The Double D folks were worried. They knew their herd was in danger and many of their cows would die of starvation. The stock had not been able to dig for grass through the deep snow since the first of January, so the herd had left the grassland and sought shelter in various wooded places or on the east side of the vertical cliffs out of the wind.
Following breakfast each morning, the men readied themselves to haul hay to the cows to keep as many alive as possible. Sleigh runners had been fastened onto the bottom of the wagons’ wheels to keep them afloat and provide easy mobility. After the wagons were loaded, they were hauled to each of the cow’s nine hideouts. This ritual took place every three days. The horses in the horseshoe corral received a half load every other day. Hauling hay was a difficult task, but one that could not be avoided if they were to save the ranch. Their travel had to follow terrains of shallow or packed-down snow to prevent the horses from getting bogged down.
One morning after the four men had loaded their wagons, Thomas said to no one in particular, “At the rate we’re hauling hay, we’ll run out in less than a month.” The men paused with questions written on their faces. Despite the concern, the wagon drivers pulled out, heading for the cows.
Within two hours, Scar and Tony were near where the cows were standing. The hungry animals started to approach the wagon. As the wagon passed the cows, they fell in behind, following it to the feeding area where the hay was emptied along a two-hundred-yard path. Both men felt helpless as they gazed upon cows with washboard ribs and skin hanging from their protruding bones. Some cows were so emaciated and weak they had difficulty moving out of the way of the wagon as it passed by. After the hay had been unloaded, Scar counted thirty-seven dead carcasses in the immediate area. Many yards to the north, five wolves had red, bloodstained muzzles as they stood over a cow’s torn open body.
Several miles to the northwest, Mr. Douglas and Thomas were experiencing a similar dilemma. It was during this time Mr. Douglas committed himself to finding a better solution to the needs of the Double D stock during severe winters.
Two weeks later, as Thomas predicted, the Double D’s hay was nearly gone. They added an extra day between feedings, but even with additional rationing, the hay would be gone in ten days. The temperature remained several degrees below freezing, maintaining the deep snow levels.
During an especially cold snowy day, when everyone was sitting around the supper table in depressed silence, Douglas spoke up. “I’ll be going to Flat Peaks first thing in the morning to find out if any of the ranchers have hay for sale.”
Mrs. Douglas’ body stiffened. “It’s too dangerous, Herb,” his wife spoke up sternly. “A horse can’t walk through this snow. I don’t want you to attempt it. Besides, there won’t be any hay for sale. Everyone needs it for their own stock.”
“You’re probably right about the hay, Alice, but I’ve got to try. It’s our only chance to keep the stock alive if the weather doesn’t break. I agree a horse can’t make it through the snow, so I’ll walk. I’ll wear snowshoes.” Everyone at the table looked at Mrs. Douglas’ alarmed expression.
Morning Sun let a minute or two go by before she rose to get the coffee pot. While she was pouring, Scar spoke. “I think you should stay here, Mr. Douglas. Let me make the trip. I have younger legs, and besides that, I need to send a telegram.”
“Count me in. I’ll be going with him,” Tony quickly interjected.
Nothing more was said at the table about the trip, but in their bedroom that evening Liz voiced her concern. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” her husband said. “There’s nothing to worry about.” But she did worry. She knew the trip would be extremely hazardous and while lying wide-eyed in bed, every imaginable danger surfaced in her mind. It was after midnight when Liz finally slept.
Morning Sun had two filled plates on the table when the men entered the kitchen a couple hours before sunrise the next morning.
On the end of the table were two leather bags she’d packed with large portions of food items. Hardtack, fried steak, biscuits, and a small paper bag of coffee grounds. She also included two tin cups inside a coffee pot and several pieces of paper to start fires with.
The men had eaten and were busy putting on layers of their traveling clothes when Mr. Douglas walked in. After Morning Sun had poured him coffee, he said to the young men, “You be careful.” His voice was stern but fatherly. “And, don’t take any chances. If you find the conditions too difficult, come back home. We’ll make other plans. I’d rather lose the entire herd than lose one of you.” The men nodded. Unbeknownst to the people in the kitchen, who thought the rest of the household was asleep, a young woman was lying in bed in an upstairs bedroom wiping tears and trying to control her sobs.
The men fastened their snowshoes snugly and hung the leather bag straps around their necks. Nodding their goodbyes, they stepped outside into a strong blast of frigid wind carrying sideways snowflakes so thick it was nearly impossible to see. The temperature was well below zero. They raised their sheepskin coat collars, pulled the doubled wool scarves that hung from under their hats across their faces, and with only their eyes exposed, they started out. The men agreed to alternate the lead position every twenty minutes. This procedure would provide a packed down path for the one following and shield him from the head-on wind, easing his travel a bit. The big man took the first lead.
Scar looked at his compass. They were going in the right direction, due south. He had started to think they were off course when he didn’t see the Indian Trace. Walking in snowshoes was slow. Minutes later, they descended the ridge and crossed the trail he’d been looking for.
They had not walked long after crossing the trace when Scar’s right snowshoe broke through the snow’s surface, causing his leg to drop down into three feet of snow. Scar had the wind knocked out of him as he fell forward, twisting his torso. Tony hurried to give assistance, but even with his help, it was a struggle for Scar to raise his snowshoe and get back on sound footing. After he was back on his feet, Tony said, “We need to follow the ridge tops, Scar. The wind will be stronger, but most likely it has blown a good deal of the snow away, leaving a packed down surface with less snow depth. The trip will be longer, but it’ll be much safer.”
Scar nodded his approval and motioned for Tony to take the lead. They headed out. Each step sent a jabbing pain up Scar’s right side and lower back, but he continued the pace. It was obvious Tony had more experience walking in snowshoes, seeming to slide along over the surface rather than lifting his snowshoes with each step like Scar. It wasn’t long before he copied Tony’s technique and skidded along with him, stride for stride.
Dark overhead clouds shadowed the sun, causing their day to remain a dull gray with the never-ending cold, snowy wind. The weather conditions were brutal, making travel next to impossible, but the men stayed their course, keeping to the ridge tops. The unfamiliar stride made their legs sore. Their fingers and feet were numb from the extreme cold. They adhered strictly to their plan to stop every twenty minutes for a short rest and exchange lead positions.
By the time they reached the tree line following the stream angling from the northeast mountains to Flat Peaks, it was late morning. It was only the halfway point of their journey, and they had already walked for four hours. They found an area nearly void of snow beneath a cluster of trees and built a fire. It wasn’t long before the water from the creek was boiling, and pieces of fried steak were heating. Tony and Scar each ate two biscuit-and-steak sandwiches and drank three cups of coffee, all the time staying hunkered close to the fire warming their hands and feet. After a thirty minute rest, they stood up to embark on the last half of their day’s agonizing travel.
Eli was leaning back in his chair next to the potbelly stove when two men, covered in ice from head to toe, including their faces and beards, walked through the livery door. It took a minute for Eli to figure out who they were. “What in the world are you two doing out in weather like this? You look like you’re frozen. Get those clothes off down to your underdrawers and stand close to the stove. It’ll warm you up in a hurry.” The men started with their snowshoes and were soon undressed, standing by the fire like Eli had instructed. The old man headed for the coffee pot on top of the stove. “Here, drink this,” he said. “It’ll help warm up your insides.” Thirty minutes later the men were feeling much better and took chairs close to the stove.
When Eli was satisfied Scar and Tony had warmed themselves sufficiently, he asked with a voice of concern, “What brings you two out on a day like this? Is someone sick at the Double D? How’d you get here, anyway? Horses can’t wade through this snow.”
The big man smiled. “No one’s sick at the Double D, Eli, and we didn’t ride horses…we snow-shoed.”
Eli looked dumbfounded. “Then why did you come to town?”
“To buy hay,” Scar answered.
“You’re either crazy or fools. There ain’t been hay for sale around here for a month. Every rancher in this part of the country I’ve talked to has been on the lookout for hay to keep his cows from starving, but to my knowledge, they’ve all given up.” Eli took another swallow of coffee and then said, “It don’t look good, Scar. I know of a few ranchers who have already lost their entire herds, and even the ranches like the Henry James, who had a considerable amount of hay put up, are in danger of losing theirs if we don’t get some relief from this weather soon. Everyone’s praying for enough of their cows to survive, so they can start up again. I imagine some ranchers will have to sell; they’re borrowed to the hilt from the bank.” Eli turned to get wood from the pile behind the stove.
After he had put three pieces in the stove and closed its door, Tony said to no one in particular, “I guess it means we made the trip for nothing.” All three men knew the answer.
“Mind if we sleep here tonight, Eli?” Scar asked. “We’ll study on things tomorrow.” Eli gave his answer with a wave of his hand toward the floor by the stove.
The travelers ate by the fire that evening with Eli who had provided a large pot of stew and cornbread. In spite of being exhausted from the day’s travel, Scar was wide-eyed for a time after lying down for the night. His thoughts were on the difficult times ahead for the Double D.