Chapter 11: Building the Dream

The morning after completing their bridge, Will McLaughlin stood at the edge of what would become the main ranch compound, watching the sun rise over land that was now truly theirs. The successful creek crossing had proven they could turn plans into reality, but it was only the beginning. Ahead lay months of backbreaking work that would test every aspect of his leadership and his family’s determination.

“First thing we need is proper shelter,” Will announced to his assembled crew. “These wagons served us well on the trail, but we’re going to be here through winter, and Wyoming winters don’t forgive poor planning.”

The solution came from Tom Bradley, the lead carpenter whose experience building frontier homes stretched back twenty years. “What we need are field quarters—something bigger than tents but faster to build than cabins. I’ve seen it done with oak poles and that rubberized canvas they’re making now.”

Within days, they had cut oak poles from the groves along the creek and constructed three large tent-like structures, each the size of a one-room cabin. Covered in Gutta Percha—the same rubberized fabric used for ponchos and raincoats—these quarters proved remarkably weatherproof and comfortable. Each housed a wood stove for both heat and cooking, creating surprisingly livable spaces that would serve them through the construction months ahead.

The transformation of their living arrangements freed up the wagons for a more crucial purpose. Two of them were emptied and repurposed for hauling construction materials and lumber from the Fort Laramie sawmill, effectively doubling their building capacity while providing the family with more organized living space.

With shelter secured, Will turned his attention to the most critical resource he would need: skilled workers. The bridge construction had proven that good craftsmanship was essential, but they would need many more hands to complete the ranch house and outbuildings before winter’s worst weather arrived.

“Spread the word,” Will told Slim and Sam during their morning planning session. “The Double Eagle Ranch is hiring, and we pay fair wages for honest work.”

The response exceeded even Will’s optimistic expectations. Word traveled through Fort Laramie and the surrounding camps like wildfire—a rich man was hiring people like crazy, paying cash money for good work. By the third day, a steady stream of men began arriving at their camp, drawn by the promise of steady employment and the chance to be part of something lasting.

Will found himself conducting interviews from dawn to dusk, learning to read character in weather-beaten faces and judge skills from calloused hands. It was an education unlike any he had received on the Missouri farm. Here, a man’s word was his bond, and the ability to pull his weight meant the difference between success and failure for everyone.

Some applicants were obvious choices—experienced carpenters, a stone mason whose work could be seen in half the buildings at Fort Laramie, men with specialized skills that the ranch desperately needed. Others required more careful consideration. Will was learning to look beyond immediate qualifications to character traits that would matter during the long, isolated months ahead.

Among those who answered the call was a young man who would prove to be one of Will’s most important early decisions. Johnny Little Bear appeared at their camp on a September morning that dawned crisp and clear, leading a scrub horse that had seen better days but whose eyes still held the spark of untamed spirit.

The boy himself—for at sixteen, he was scarcely more than that—carried himself with the quiet dignity that Will had observed in other Native Americans who moved between the white and Indian worlds. But there was something else in his manner, a careful hopefulness that spoke of someone who had learned to expect disappointment but hadn’t given up on better possibilities.

“I heard you might have work for someone good with horses,” Johnny said, his English clear but careful, shaped by mission school education but retaining the cadence of his native tongue.

“What’s your experience?” Will asked, noting how the horses in their makeshift corral had already turned toward the young man with obvious interest.