Every Dogs Dream
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The next morning, Peter’s voice rose with the sun, as did his spirits. The following day would bring the arrival of their last ox team—the one that carried the remaining luggage and supplies. They’d set off from the ranch early in order to make good time on this leg of the journey, and he hoped they’d arrive in Montana before dark.
He’d considered bringing two wagons to carry everything, but it made more sense to pack lightly. With any luck, by the end of the month, they’d be at their destination. And if not, well, they would have plenty of time to unpack during their first month there.
Peter watched the morning mist rise above the river and reflected on how much had changed over these past months. A year ago, when he first arrived in Montana, he couldn’t imagine a better place in which to live or do business. Now that was true again. But things were different now than they were then.
“Where’s Miss Alby?” he asked after greeting their traveling companion for the day, a young man named Floyd who was driving the other ox team. The wagons had already moved out, so Peter hurried along after them. “Didn’t she wake up with you?”
Floyd shook his head. “She hasn’t been awake all morning.” He stopped, staring ahead of the horses. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“I hope so,” Peter replied. He touched his hat brim and watched the road stretch on for miles and miles. He wasn’t used to traveling in such a fashion. It took longer to travel by wagon than by train, but the pace was more relaxed, and it gave him the chance to study the country as they passed.
On this leg of the journey, they would pass through several towns and visit several ranches before they reached their destination. He looked forward to getting a good look at this state he’d heard so much about.
A mile later, they turned off the main road onto another dirt lane that led straight into the mountains. They made the switchback turns slowly, but even so, Peter knew they could easily go off the edge of one of these hills and end up in a ravine.
This part of the Rockies was not a place to take chances. If they didn’t stay alert and focused, the ox drivers would have to pull off the road in order to catch them if anything happened.
The terrain grew steeper and the road narrower with each turn. Peter kept a watchful eye on the oxen. “Take it slow,” he called to Floyd, who was riding with the team that was pulling the second wagon.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Cooper,” Floyd said with a grin. “We’re just following your lead.”
Peter had chosen to bring a number of things along in this particular wagon: the four saddles they’d purchased from the men at the auction, the dog-eared copy of The Romance of the West by C. W. Dixon he’d found at the library book sale, a box containing an assortment of letters he’d received over the past year, and most important of all, Mary’s journals.
He wasn’t sure when he’d get around to reading the volumes, but it wouldn’t be long, and he knew Mary would want her writings to arrive safely at their destination. And if not there, where else? He glanced behind him and wondered if Mary were aware of his plans to set up this business venture.
He hadn’t shared anything with her yet, but if she knew, she’d be proud of what he was doing—and happy to see the ranch growing.
With only two ox teams now moving the wagons, it took a little longer for the other team to catch up, so Peter rode alongside the animals to make certain none of them stumbled or got tangled with another team or a branch.
He glanced ahead and saw the snow-covered peaks of the Continental Divide. The view was breathtaking. They’d pass through Glacier National Park soon, then head into the heart of Montana and its capital city. When they finally reached their destination, it would be time for him to choose which of these ranches he would purchase.
It would take a while to get everything in order and ready before their first shipment arrived from England. That meant he had months to search for the right property.
Their ox teams strained against the reins as the drivers urged the wagons forward, up a slope that seemed to rise forever. Finally, they crested the mountain and found themselves on the crest of another, one far less imposing, but just as steep. “We’re almost there,” Floyd said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
Peter watched the road twist and turn around a corner. “Keep your eyes on the reins,” he said.
“But you can’t see the end of the road.”
“That’s why we stay focused and don’t look down.”
“Don’t worry about the road. Just concentrate on what’s ahead,” Peter said. He wished Mary were here with him to help him steer the business. She’d been so knowledgeable and experienced. Her expertise would be invaluable in running the operation.
He’d tried talking her into joining him in this venture, but she was hesitant. As much as he loved Mary, he didn’t want to spend his days arguing with her, but if not now, when? This business was the reason he was leaving Chicago.
With his marriage gone sour, there was no longer any need for him to stay at home with his family, and besides, he wanted someplace other than a big city where he could start over. He needed to create something that would last, and he felt confident in making the right choice for his family, but more importantly, he wanted a future for them all.
He wouldn’t have much time to prove himself before the first shipment arrived, so he had to choose the right location in short order.
After another mile or two, they reached a junction where the road led toward Bozeman, the state capital. At the very end of the lane was a house that looked like an old-fashioned Victorian mansion. It wasn’t the size of the building that impressed Peter, nor the condition it was in, but the location. “This is the ranch,” he called out as the wagon rumbled past.
Floyd waved to the front door, and a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties answered the door. “I’m Floyd. We’re here to see Mr. Cooper.”
“Mr. Cooper?” The woman peered down the road at the wagons. “That must be him. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived.”
Peter rode up beside Floyd. “How long did it take you to get here from town?”
Floyd looked up at him and smiled. “It took me five days. I think we made good time considering our cargo.”
“Let’s hope so. You might want to move the wagons around back, so we can unload them without disturbing the family.”
Floyd nodded and led the teams to a stable in the rear. Peter walked into the main building and found the ranch house, then walked down the hall toward the kitchen. His footsteps echoed off the stone walls, but it was still much quieter than any city he’d visited.
And although the house was dark and dingy, he could imagine it with a bit more cleaning and attention, the rooms brightened by cheerful furnishings.
As he turned the corner, he saw the man who appeared to be Mr. Cooper sitting on a bench in the dining room. The gentleman was as tall as Peter and wore a white shirt tucked into blue jeans. As he stood, the stranger offered Peter his hand and said, “I’m Roger Cooper.”
Peter shook hands and introduced himself. “And this is my son, Floyd.”
“This is the last of our oxen,” Roger said. “We’ll have to borrow another pair from the train for our journey to the Pacific Northwest.”
Floyd took off his hat and bowed. “Your welcome to use our team until yours arrive.”
“Thanks. They’ll do just fine,” Roger replied, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. He pointed at the wagon that held their cargo. “What’s that?”
Peter opened the door and tipped the top of the crate. “Our first shipment of seed potatoes from England.”
Roger gazed down at the package, which looked like it contained thousands of red-skinned tubers. “You’re sure this will be enough? I’ve seen what they can grow. One crop of them grows faster than wheat, barley, and oats.”
Peter nodded. “It should be a great success if the weather cooperates.”
The front door opened, and two young children entered the room. A girl about three or four years old was followed by a boy who was perhaps six or seven. Neither one looked up when the visitors entered the room, but rather, they stared intently at the potato box.
Peter saw that the boy’s attention was focused on a lumpy piece of wood that the girl had left on the bench. She walked over and picked it up, and the boy eagerly snatched it away. He’d never seen anything quite like it.
Roger glanced up at Peter and smiled. “I think your children would enjoy some of these. Would you mind if they helped themselves?”
Peter shook his head and laughed. “Not at all. And I hope to have my own son help us unload our wagon. It’s time for him to start learning the ranch business. I’ll bet he’d love to play with your daughter.”
They spoke a few more minutes, then Roger gave his children the potato box. The children jumped into the wagon and started filling it up with potatoes. Peter watched as they carefully counted out each potato. Floyd walked over and knelt down beside the little girl. “How many potatoes have you counted?”
The girl held up five fingers.
“Good,” Floyd said in a soothing voice. “What color are they?”
The girl pointed. “Red.”
Floyd reached inside and pulled out two more red-skinned tubers, then handed the whole box to the boy. “Now count them again. Then tell me what color they are.”
The girl counted out three more. The boy repeated, “Red.”
“That’s good,” Floyd said. “Can you find any yellow ones?”
The girl shook her head.
Floyd lifted the lid off the crate. “I found a bunch of them right here.”
The girl glanced up at Floyd. “Are there really potatoes in there?”
Floyd nodded and gave her one of the tubers. “See? These potatoes grow on the ground.” He offered another to the boy who took it with his dirty hands. “Here. Let’s count how many we have this time.”
The girl held up five fingers while counting.
The boy held up three and started eating them.
“We’re missing six.” Floyd looked at Peter and smiled. “They might be playing with them.”
Peter chuckled and shook his head. “I guess I should have expected as much. Boys will be boys.”
Roger laughed and agreed. “Boys will be boys. And the little girl is a chip off the old block. She’s going to drive me crazy when she grows up.”
“I think she’ll do just fine. But don’t tell me your own daughter drives you mad. She must be a saint,” Peter replied.
“Oh, she’s got her moments.” Roger’s expression turned serious. “I understand why you’re doing what you’re doing, but you can’t imagine the kind of danger you face.”
“I can imagine some,” Peter said, then explained about the masked men and their threat against his life.
“And yet you continue to defy them and continue to train your son to become a bounty hunter.” Roger shook his head in wonder. “That’s not easy for a father to do.”
Peter had no answer. He’d never thought of himself as a particularly good dad. But he didn’t feel as if he’d failed his son. It was a strange sensation to hear such words from someone else.
Floyd put an arm around the boy. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get that wagon unloaded.”
The children darted away and headed over to the wagon. Peter noticed his wife’s attention focused on the potato box in her hands. He could see that the girl had her finger in the package again, and she looked as if she were holding something very valuable. His attention then returned to Floyd and Peter talked a few more minutes, and then he and Peter made their way toward the front door.
“Peter?”
Peter glanced back at Floyd. “Yes?”
“How did you find out that I was planning to move here?”
“A friend told us,” Peter replied.
Floyd nodded. “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Floyd shrugged. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the sale that it slipped my mind. But you’re right. It would be best if everyone knew about our plans.”
Peter said goodbye and then joined his family at the front door. He was surprised that the children were already inside. They must have been watching the whole exchange through the window. He was tempted to ask how much the children had helped, but the fact that they were there was enough.
It seemed as if all of their attention had turned to their potatoes. The little girl was still eating her handful when Peter grabbed her hand.
“Come on, let’s eat lunch.”
The girl stopped chewing and stared up at him. “What do we do with these?” She held up her fingers.
“We’ll wash them,” Peter told her.
“Did you come to find me?” the girl asked, a trace of a frown forming on her face.
“No. I’m not here to find you,” Peter said in an exasperated tone.
She grinned. “That’s too bad.”
***
They were finishing up lunch when the front door opened. Peter glanced over to see Floyd step inside. “Sorry. I got called out for something,” he said to his wife.
“It’s okay,” Alice said. “You’re always busy.”
Peter watched as Floyd walked toward them.
“You look like you could use a hand.” Floyd set down his hat. “I’m still here helping out.”
Alice wiped her mouth. “Yes, thank you. What did you need me to do?”
Floyd shook his head and looked at Peter. “Take your time. I just came over to say goodbye before I leave.”
“But—”
“I’ll be back by Saturday. You don’t have anything on the schedule this weekend?”
Peter thought about it. “No.”
“Good. We’ll see you then,” Floyd replied and headed for the door.
“Wait. Did you find out who these men are?” Peter blurted out.
“No.”
“How did you get caught?” Peter asked. “They know you’re coming to visit.”
“Maybe,” Floyd replied. “But they’ve been watching other houses. There’s no way to know what they might try.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Peter stepped aside. “Come on.”
The two walked around the corner. Peter had to restrain himself from running to catch up with them.
“You’re going to stay here?” Peter asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging around?” Peter asked. “Men in black masks?”
“I haven’t seen any masked men,” Floyd said. “And I don’t think that you’re safe until we find out who these men are. They’re definitely dangerous.”
Peter took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, they are.”
“Good luck,” Floyd said. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Thanks for everything.” Peter held the door for him and waved as he turned away.
Alice walked over to the stove and glanced back at her husband. “What was all of that about?”
Peter didn’t want to talk to her about it. The conversation was already awkward enough between them. “Nothing,” he said. “We can’t afford to waste money on an alarm system. That’s all. Maybe we should put up some signs like the ones in town.”
She shrugged and headed into the living room. “Okay, but just don’t say too much in front of Floyd. You know how he is.”
“Right. Don’t worry. We’ll be safe. The house has good windows and a strong door.” Peter stared at his wife’s back. “How are your potatoes?” he asked casually. “Are you still eating them? I don’t see any on the floor.”
Alice sighed and leaned against the wall. “You’d think after three weeks we would have eaten through our supply.” She dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head.
Peter waited. He knew there was something she wanted to tell him, but he was not going to push her until he heard the whole story from her lips. She had changed since the day he married her. His wife used to be so kind, gentle, and soft-spoken.
But now his beautiful, loving, caring wife had transformed into someone else. All of her affection toward Peter had been replaced with suspicion. The slightest action was cause for alarm. There was no longer any room for spontaneity or even common sense.
She didn’t seem to remember that they were supposed to be sharing a life together. He couldn’t even ask her to take a walk because it might attract the wrong kind of attention.
He went into the dining room to check on their potatoes, only to find nothing. They hadn’t done anything with them yet. Alice came back into the dining room. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure. I thought we could wash them and have some for supper tonight,” he said.
“But you don’t need me to help you.”
“No.” Peter headed for the kitchen. “Do you want to go out?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You know what I mean.” He reached into the bottom cupboard. “Let’s get these potatoes washed up.”
“Why don’t you use the basin in the bathroom and run the water over them? That’s faster than washing them here. And we can eat at the table if we take the dishes out of the cupboards. It’ll give us more room to sit.”
Peter looked at her with a smile. “Good idea.”
Alice watched him as he took down two plates. She had no clue what his plans were. Peter put the dishes in the sink and turned on the faucet. “I think you should take off your clothes first.”
“What?” She frowned and stood there, staring at him. “Why do we need to do that?”
“We don’t have a basin in the bathroom so the potatoes will get wet. I think you’re going to need to take them out of the cups and wash them in the bathtub. We’ve been trying to keep the water usage down.”
Alice’s eyes narrowed. “And you think I’m going to strip naked in front of you?”
“No,” Peter replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.” He glanced around the kitchen. “If you don’t want me to know about your potatoes I’d suggest putting a towel over them before you leave.”
The End