Chapter 2
2
Charlotte closed the ledger and eased back. It still felt strange to sit at her father’s desk and go over the facts and figures related to the Aldrich Cattle Company. This had always been handled by her father and Frank. They were the men of the ranch, and that was how business was done. Women took care of the house and children. Sometimes they were called on to help with bigger things, but Papa had always hated having her or Mama involved with what he considered men’s work. Because of this, there had been a time when Papa had employed a crew of eight.
But with the men gone, everything fell to Charlotte and her mother. Recovering from the difficult winter had been hard, but they were managing. They’d kept Kit on to act as foreman and hired a few young men to act as crew. Unfortunately, none of the men had a lot of experience, and Charlotte found herself constantly at odds with them. Kit in particular didn’t want to receive instruction or correction from a woman. When Charlotte confronted him, he was always polite, but he never followed through with the work. If they only had a capable foreman, things would be so much easier. She sighed and gazed out at nothing in particular. She should be grateful for things going as well as they were. So many ranches had failed after that terrible winter. So many dear friends were gone, and those who had remained were forever altered. Herself and Mama included. Micah too.
Mama had worked hard all her life and never complained about her lot. She was good at managing the gardens and caring for the smaller livestock. She took charge of the chickens and milk cows, as well as the two sows they’d decided to keep and breed for pork. This year both sows had given them ten piglets apiece, which would provide more than enough meat in the year to come. If they fattened up well, Charlotte figured they could sell off all but four or five and make a tidy profit come November.
She got up from the desk and crossed to where the large window looked out on the property to the east. Mama was already hard at work instructing a couple of the new men on the enlargement she wanted made to the corral. Mack, their faithful collie, followed her around as she walked back and forth. Mama had picked Mack out of a litter of pups three years earlier, and he’d proven himself to be a good choice. He was also completely devoted to the older woman.
Lucky, a mutt of a dog half Mack’s size, lay nearby watching the action with minimal interest. Charlotte had to smile. They were good ranch dogs, but their personalities couldn’t have been more different.
Micah had found the smaller of the two dogs in town nearly six years earlier. He was a half-starved pup and looked to have been in more than one fight—probably over food. After asking around and finding out no one owned him, Micah tucked him inside his coat and brought him to the Aldrich ranch, knowing Frank Sr. had been looking for a new dog to train.
Micah’s image came to mind, and Charlotte couldn’t help but frown. She and Mama had been discussing how they could best help him to give up his isolation and start living life again. Mama said it wouldn’t be easy because Micah would have to learn to love something more than he hated what had happened. She also declared that hate was a powerful emotion that had a way of growing stronger each day, just like love. So the task wouldn’t be an easy one.
Charlotte, however, was determined to find a way. She had loved Micah for most of her life, and even though he only saw her as his best friend’s little sister, she felt confident of the love that could grow between them.
“I’m twenty-two years old and ready to be a wife,” she murmured. “But only to Micah.” She thought of Lewis Bradley and his persistence. She didn’t feel it was born of love as much as something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was desperation for his child to have a mother. Maybe he was truly lonely. Whatever it was, all Charlotte knew was that she wasn’t the answer to his problem. She loved only Micah.
The length of time since she’d last seen him was far too long. At first, she and Mama had tried to visit him at least every few days. Often they took him a basket of homemade baked goods. Other times they’d drive over with the mail. Truth was, however, Micah seldom got any mail, and while he enjoyed the food items, most of the time he wanted nothing to do with lengthy visits.
Charlotte knew the place needed upkeep. She knew, too, that there was talk that Micah was drinking. His father had never allowed alcohol of any kind on the premises. It seemed strange that this should have been the direction Micah went to find comfort.
“There has to be a way to help him, Lord,” Charlotte whispered.
The year after their fathers had died was supposed to be a time of healing and recovery, but neither had seemed to move forward. Charlotte still hated herself for her angry outburst on that last day, and Micah would forever live with the horrific truth of his father’s suicide.
“Charlotte?” her mother called.
“I’m in the office,” she answered, going back to the desk.
Mama came into the room and glanced around. “Seems awfully warm in here today. I’ll open a window.”
“If you like, but I’m finished here. I was just thinking that I might take a ride over to Micah’s.”
Mama’s right brow raised. “I’m too busy to go with you, but you could take one of the boys.”
“No, I want to go alone. I know some might think it’s inappropriate, but Micah’s like family.” She knew her feelings for Micah were more romantic than family oriented, but she trusted him to be a complete gentleman. “I need to have a talk with him.”
“I suppose that would be all right. It’s a lovely day.”
“Yes, and I just can’t sit here and do nothing. I keep thinking about Micah and how he’s let his sadness run his life for too long. You and I have had each other, but he’s had no one. Well, of course he’s had us when we could spare the time or he would let us come around, but I feel like I should have been there for him more. I let my own grief get the best of me.”
“Yes, I agree. I was just thinking that very thing the other night when I was praying for him. He made it so easy to leave him alone. He said he needed the time. Then he went to work helping to skin the dead animals and burn the carcasses. I think he found it easier to focus on dead things than those living. In my own grief, it was easy to comply with his wishes, but leaving him to himself all this time ... well, I’m afraid he’s just managed to sink deeper and deeper. I’m certain we must do something.”
“I agree, and I will start with a visit and see where it can go from there. I’d like to get him to come stay with us awhile and help Kit become a better foreman.”
“That would be wonderful, but if Rich couldn’t do it, I doubt Micah will have any better luck.”
Rich Johnson was a widower ranch owner whose property bordered the Aldrich land to the west and a little bit south. Since the death of his wife, Betsy, the previous December, Rich seemed more inclined to stop by just for conversation. Mama had used the opportunities to get him to speak to Kit and try to teach him some needed skills. Rich knew all there was about ranching, but he didn’t seem to know any way to get through to Kit.
“I know you’re probably right, but something must be done. Roundup will soon be here, and there’s going to be a lot of work to do. We need a strong crew. I’ll appeal to Micah’s good nature and explain that we’re in such great need. That way he won’t be able to refuse us.” Charlotte grabbed her riding gloves.
“Since there wasn’t any mail for him in Cheyenne, maybe you could use the excuse of taking him one of the pies Nora made. I’m certain she won’t mind when she knows it’s for Micah.”
“He does love pie. I remember when you made him that rhubarb pie. He ate it all in one day. If I come bearing pie, he surely won’t be upset to see me.”
Mama laughed. “Micah would never be upset to see you. You know full well he has always tolerated pretty much anything you throw at him.”
“Good. Then I’m going to start visiting him regularly and demanding he come by here as well. Once he knows about Kit, he’s bound to feel obliged to help. Besides, I need to let him know about his own cows. It’s time he took charge of them and decided what he wants to do for the future.”
“I just hope we haven’t waited too long.” Mama looked sad. “I know it was important we gave him some time to himself, but then we got so busy....”
“But we tried to involve him in our lives.” Charlotte couldn’t allow herself to believe they’d waited too long—that her own guilt and misery had kept her from him to the point he’d forgotten her importance in his life. At least she hoped—prayed—that she had importance in his life. No matter what, she was determined that Micah would be all right.
Please, God, don’t let it be too late.
“I know.” Mama’s expression reflected what Charlotte was feeling. “It has concerned me as well, especially when I heard he was drinking. Still, I’ve been praying for him, and I know you have as well. Others are praying also. I must trust that God will see him through.”
“I trust that too, but I feel strongly that I’m supposed to do something. Maybe it’s because I’m annoyed with Lewis Bradley’s demand that I marry him. Maybe it’s God’s prompting. Whatever the reason, I feel that I cannot ignore this matter.”
Charlotte went to her mother and shook her head. “I don’t know why, Mama, but I’m so afraid for him. I feel that he needs us. More now than ever before.”
Mama reached up and cupped Charlotte’s chin. “Then go to him. It’s important you heed that prompting.” She leaned forward and kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “I’ll be praying.”
The Hamilton ranch house was only about three miles from the Aldrich and Johnson homes. When Micah’s father had built the place, he’d chosen the spot to keep with the Aldrich and Johnson plans for the families to be in close proximity in case of trouble. Rich Johnson had bought property first when he’d come to the area in 1867. Charlotte’s father had brought the family to Cheyenne in 1869, and he imme diately bought the land northeast of Rich. The two hadn’t known each other when the Aldrichs had first arrived, but the families became fast friends. When Rich suggested they keep their ranch houses no more than three miles apart in order to help each other, Papa had agreed. Especially when he heard the Indians could still be a problem.
When the Hamiltons came in July of 1870, they had settled on the land east of the Aldrich ranch. Again, the families became close and the Hamiltons also agreed to build their house in that three-mile circle. Over the years, the men and their sons had worked side by side, helping each other with roundups and seeing the families through bad times. While the wives and daughters had encouraged and prayed for each other, and often helped each other in times of need. Each family had prospered and made good on their ranches until the Great Die-Up.
Charlotte so often wished that things could have been different. She would have given any amount of money to be able to turn back time and change the outcome. But, of course, that wasn’t possible.
She rode up the overgrown wagon path to Micah’s ranch, careful to keep the basket with the pie from slipping off the horn. She paused a moment to survey the house and barnyard. The weeds were overgrown and the grass high in places around the house. The beaten down dirt around the barn and other outbuildings seemed eerily absent of life. The place looked deserted. She worried for only a moment that Micah might not be home, but then remembered he seldom went anywhere.
To the east of the house, she saw Micah’s horse, Duke. He was in a small penned area with his head angled through the pole fence to reach the grassy yard. That strengthened her belief that Micah was home. He wouldn’t have left without Duke.
She got off her chestnut mount and led him up the overgrown path. She prayed there wouldn’t be any snakes in the weeds. With the warmer weather, the rattlers were usually most active in the early morning or evening, but still she kept watch and listened for their warning sound. Reaching the house without issues, she settled Buck in a place where he could casually graze, grabbed the pie from the basket, and then headed to the front door.
Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing Micah again. Since she was little, Charlotte had adored Micah Hamilton. She would follow him and her brother around for hours, sometimes getting into the worst situations. A smile edged her lips. Usually, the problems came via challenges set by the boys. They seemed amused to have her so captivated with them. At least at times. There were plenty of other occasions when they would insist she leave them be. And she did.
Charlotte set the pie on the porch rail, then knocked. When no one came to answer, she knocked again, wincing as the strike smarted her hand. Still no response. She tried the handle. The door easily opened.
“Micah!” she called out. “Micah, it’s Charlotte. Are you here?”
She stepped into the darkened house. It smelled musty, and the furniture was covered with sheets, as it had been since the death of Wayman Hamilton. “Micah!”
There was a sound from the back of the house, and in a few moments, a ragged looking Micah appeared. He hadn’t shaved or had a haircut in quite some time. His clothes were filthy and hung on him oddly. He’d lost a lot of weight. Charlotte hardly recognized him.
“You look awful,” she told him truthfully. “Are you sick?”
He yawned and gave a stretch. “No. I was sleeping.”
She shook her head. “Well, you look a sight. When was the last time you had a haircut?” She held up her hand. “Probably the last time I gave you one, am I right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“And did you decide shaving and bathing were too old fashioned for you?” She looked at his scraggly beard and mustache and gave a heavy sigh. “Come on. I’m going to wash your hair and cut it. Where’s your soap?”
“Same place as it was before, but you don’t need to try to fix me up.”
She laughed. “Someone should, so humor me.” She went to the kitchen and found there was already water on the stove, but it was far from hot. She smiled to herself. Cold water would wake him up.
Micah had followed her into the kitchen and stood in the doorway watching her. He really did look awful. He’d lost too much weight, and his eyes were sunken with dark circles.
“Go fetch me your ma’s scissors and a comb. Oh, and bring a razor and strop too.”
Micah just stared at her for a minute, so Charlotte planted her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Did you hear me?”
He finally shrugged and left the room. Within a few minutes, he returned with the requested items. Charlotte placed them on the table and motioned Micah to the sink. “Water’s cold, but we’ll make do. Bend over.”
He didn’t so much as flinch when she poured the cold water over his head. Once she had his hair wet, she took up a bar of soap and scrubbed his hair and beard. At one point, Micah gave a sort of moan, but she ignored it. Once his head was clean, she took the dish towel and dried Micah’s hair, then handed the towel to him.
“Wipe your face.”
“You sure are bossy today.” He did as she instructed, however.
“I’m bossy because someone must get you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. I have troubles, and you need to help me.”
“What’s wrong?” His voice betrayed concern.
She smiled. “That’s more like it. I’ll tell you all about it as I cut your hair and shave your face. Now sit. Maybe we’ll get you looking presentable enough that you can join Mama and me tomorrow. We’d like to drive into Cheyenne for church.”
Charlotte worked for over an hour to trim up Micah’s hair and beard, and as she did, she explained life at the ranch. She told him of Kit’s laziness and lack of understanding. She talked about the four ranch hands they’d hired who were just boys but eager to learn. The problem was, they had no teacher unless Charlotte or her mother had time to show them what to do.
“Kit knows enough to be useful but not to truly be in charge,” she explained as she finished shaving his face clean. “I think he lied to Papa when he told him about all his experience in Oklahoma.”
“Probably. I never thought much of him.”
Charlotte knew that. She didn’t know if Micah held something specific against Kit, but he clearly didn’t respect the man.
“I need you to come train him.” She handed him the towel again. While Micah wiped his face, she continued. “Maybe even just take over for a while.”
“No.”
There was no discussion. No thoughts or ideas about handling it in a different way. Just a simple no.
“So you won’t help me? Help us? Our families swore to assist one another in whatever way we could. Our fathers made a pledge to always be there for each other.”
Micah threw the towel down on the table. “My father killed himself, as you well know.”
She looked him in the eye. “And now you’re doing the same. Your method is just slower and more painful to watch.” She shook her head and crossed the room to leave.
“Are you going?” Micah asked.
Charlotte turned back. “If I stay, you won’t like what I have to say. I really don’t care that you won’t like it, because God knows it needs to be said, but I care too much about you to speak to you in anger.”
She went outside and collected Buck. Just before she mounted, Charlotte remembered the pie and marched back up to the porch. When Micah appeared in the open door of his house, Charlotte made her way to him and handed him the dessert. “Mama thought you’d like this.” She stomped back to her horse and mounted.
Micah shook his head. “Why are you angry?”
Charlotte studied him for a long moment. “Waste always makes me angry.” She gave Buck a nudge in the side and turned for home. “Oh, and go take a bath. You stink.”