Chapter 3

“Well Allison, you’d better kiss him goodbye,” Dolan said cynically as he, Frankie, Paul and Jacob marched over to us. Their arrival subsequently ended the conversation Allison and I were having, but they didn’t care nor did they apologize for the rude interruption.

“He’s going to be on the trail for more than a month staring at nothing but the asses of these sorry sons of bitches,” Dolan sneered. “So you’d better give him something to remember you by, cause god knows he’ll need it.”

Dolan’s men laughed heartily at their boss’ joke.

Unfortunately the he Dolan referred to wasn’t me.

“I know,” Allison replied as she left my side and walked over to Pastor Paul. She leaned in awkwardly and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “It’s good to see you my love.”

The pastor turned a deep shade of red but managed to embrace her in his own awkward way. The two looked more like strangers than the engaged couple they actually are.

We all watched as Paul pat her on both shoulders at the same time and says, “I’m so glad you came to see me off my dear. It’s going to be awful lonely without you, but this is something I just need to do.”

“I understand,” Allison replied formally. “I wish you the best of luck on your long, hard journey.”

It was too painful to behold. The two had less chemistry than the rocks under my feet and I couldn’t stand it any longer. So I turned to inspect the chuck wagon, suddenly needing to know if we had all the necessary supplies or not.

I left the spectacle and started leafing through the drawers and shelves of the chuck box. I checked our medical gear and tested the water barrel to see if it holds true. After that I took inventory of our food and meat.

Thankfully, Dolan had been generous and provided us with lots of canned beans, coffee, sourdough biscuits and preserved meat. We have greasy cloth-wrapped bacon, salted pork and loads of dried beef. Of course there are no vegetables or fruit but we’d eat fresh meat from time to time as a few head of cattle would succumb to an injury or accident.

“Still can’t believe Dolan is making her marry him,” Jimmy said quietly as he walked up behind me. “The man is only eight years older than her but acts like he’s her father or something.”

“Me neither,” I nodded in complete agreement while still leafing through our supplies. “But her real dad is dead so Dolan has to take on that role. He’s got to make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“Yeah, well I doubt his motives are that pure,” Jimmy snickered. “I bet Dolan just likes the thought of having a Pastor in his family. Thinks a man of the cloth will add respect to his sleazy operation.”

“Twenty pastors couldn’t put a dent in his family’s shame,” I replied in little more than a whisper. We had to be careful not to be overheard by Dolan’s goons.

“I really feel sorry for Allison,” Jimmy turned to lean up against the covered wagon. “She’s so sweet and kind, and that man is stiff as a board. The Pastor has less personality than a dead turtle. Such a shame.”

I agreed whole heartedly, but knew Allison was the type who’d just put her head down and make the best of it. As a woman in these times, her life is not entirely her own and she accepted that reality. Not that men have it much better, if at all. Seems everyone out here is in servitude to someone else.

It’s common for families to arrange marital unions in these parts. Some argue it’s a mere necessity as suitable spouses can be rare this far west. Through this lens, James Dolan was just fulfilling his duty to care for his fatherless cousin.

He made the arrangements for Allison to marry Pastor Paul shortly after the young reverend arrived in town as a single, eligible bachelor. But he didn’t make the formal announcement until the harvest dance later that year, much to my chagrin.

I remember us, as a big crowd of town’s folk, all dressed up, standing under the lights, anxious to start dancing but Dolan gets up on stage to make his little speech. I’m stunned, like a dumb fuck, while he goes on and on about how great Paul and Allison’s marriage will be. Everyone claps and offers congratulations, well everyone except me.

I’m too awestruck to move and didn’t know how to feel much less reply. I looked over at Allison, pleading for an explanation but she never returned my glare. Her eyes remained transfixed on Dolan. I knew she wasn’t happy, her expression betrayed her, but what the fuck?

She could’ve given me a heads up at the very least. As a result, I’m caught off guard with mouth agape, clueless as every other dickhead in this small town. That betrayal added deeply to my heartbreak and the sum total of it sent me into a complete tailspin.

I spent the evening walking around in a fog, drinking endlessly to numb the pain. The music blared and people danced but nonetheless, I’d never felt more alone, which says a lot coming from an unwanted orphan boy.

I lost my hope for the future and the woman of my dreams all in one fell swoop and knew then, that life would never be good again.

Talk about the shits.

I longed to feel anything other than that searing pain now consuming me. So when Susan asked me to fuck her, in her own drunken state, I gladly agreed knowing I’d be distracted at least a while. Unfortunately that diversion lasted a lot longer than originally anticipated.

“Take good care of my nephew,” Dolan told me right before leaving with his armed goon squad.

He looked down at me from horseback while I stared up at him on foot.

“Let him ride up front a bit will ya?” Dolan said with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t want him wrangling the entire time. If you do that and manage to bring the herd into Wichita nice and fat I’ll throw in a hefty little bonus for you. Might not cover the full cost of your lost cotton but it’ll be mighty close.”

“Thank you Mr. Dolan,” I said with a weak smile, wondering if this was his way of apologizing for setting my crops ablaze. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will Buck,” Dolan nodded. “I’ll see you all in Kansas in no more than six weeks.”

“You know it.” And with that I waved him off.

“You can’t put Benny in back this trip,” Jimmy said to me as we both headed towards to the herd. “He’s earned a seat up front or at least fulltime on the wings.”

“I get that,” I replied in disgust, but was only half listening. My eyes and thoughts were still on Allison. Etiquette hadn’t provided us with an opportunity to say goodbye so instead I just stared as she rode away, hoping to speak with her again when we finally arrived in Wichita.

“You listening to me Buck?” Jimmy asked as he grabbed me by the shoulder.

“Yes, but you know how the fucking politics work out here,” I said. “Eventually he’ll have to take some shifts back there. I might even need him on wrangling duty as Dolan’s nephew is supposed to get some time up front.”

“No fucking way!” Jimmy exclaimed as he cocked his head and gave me the death stare. “Benny’s too old to be horse wrangling! And riding in the back is a killer on his lungs.”

“I get that but you know how it works,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Fine,” Jimmy shook his head, clearly pissed. “I’ll take a few shifts in the back if it means Ben can ride up front more.”

“You can’t,” I protested. “I need you on lead.”

“Then don’t put Benny back there,” Jimmy glared at me with eyes wide open.

“Who else I got that can guide?”

“Nobody,” Jimmy declared all matter of fact, throwing his hands in the air for effect. “So if you don’t want to lose me for that ... don’t put Benny in back.” Jimmy spat on the ground before storming away.

Working with family is a blessing and a curse depending on the day and the task at hand. Right now it feels a little on the cursed side, but I know, from experience, that it’ll change once we get going. Everything tends to cool down once we start herding.

We just needed to get moving.

“Cattle droving ain’t that hard,” I overheard Frankie explaining to his eager audience of Paul and Jacob. Neither had been on a cattle ride before so they listened attentively to the advice of this wily veteran.

The three of them stared out over the cliff’s edge and didn’t notice me standing within earshot. My horse was clustered in with all the other spares, blocking me from view even if they did turn my way. I purposely repacked my saddle bag slowly as an excuse to keep listening.

“The goal is to keep the cattle safe, healthy and moving together in one straight line at a comfortable speed,” Frankie said confidently, kicking pebbles off the steep cliff. “If the pace is too fast, the cattle lose weight and ain’t worth as much cause they’re purchased by the pound at the rail station.”

“Yeah that wouldn’t be good for business,” Paul added.

“But if we move ‘em too slow we risk losing cattle and Dolan has to pay us more money for our extra hours.”

“That too is bad for business,” Jacob smiled knowingly.

“So they say it’s best to keep ‘em going at a steady pace of fifteen miles per day with long breaks to graze near noon and then another stop late in the afternoon.”

“I see,” Paul says while scratching his head. “So how do you keep one thousand head of cattle all moving together at the same speed?”

“To get her done we gotta make a big old box around the Longhorns with two or three drovers riding each side,” Frankie said with an air of cockiness. “That way if a cow gets lost or runs off, one of the drovers can chase it down while the rest of us keep the herd moving.”

“Huh,” Paul stared off. “Doesn’t sound difficult at all.”

“I mean, it’s a lot tougher than it looks,” Frankie said with furrowed brow. “Can get pretty hairy and shit can go sideways pretty fast. Gotta be on your game the whole time. Longhorns are easily spooked and can stampede on ya if not careful.”

“Of course,” Paul nodded in understanding.

“So where is the best place to be?” Jacob asked eagerly. “What’s the best job out here?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Frankie crossed his arms. “Riding up front, leading the herd is where you want to be. Lot cleaner and simpler up there, but none of y’all are going to get that post.”

“Why not?”

“Cause fucking Buck, our Mad Cowboy, always gives that sweet job to his brother Jimmy the dickhead.”

Frankie laughed but the others didn’t.

Fact is, Frankie’s one nasty son of a bitch, but he’s not totally lying here. It’s true that I always put Jimmy up front but it’s for good reason and I don’t give a shit what Frankie thinks of that. My brother has a great nose for direction and keeps the cattle moving at just the right pace. To me, that’s invaluable.

“So, if upfront is the best spot,” Jacob reasoned. “Then where’s the worst place?”

“Oh,” Frankie kicked a stone while thinking it over. “Riding in back has to the shittiest job of ‘em all. I hate being back there.”

“Why’s that?” Paul asked with curiosity.

“Cause you spend the whole day wallowing in the dust of a thousand cattle and, let me tell you, they kick up a ton of fucking dirt. How fun does that sound?”

“Not very,” Paul agreed.

“Damn right,” Frankie said with contempt. “Buck sends us back there just for his own shits and giggles. He can be a real sorry son of a bitch by times. If he sends you back there just tell him to fuck off.”

“But someone has to do it don’t they?” Paul asked the obvious.

“Well yeah,” Frankie was taken aback by this question. “Cause some of the herd move too slow and the boys back there need to keep the stragglers going.”

“So it’s necessary?”

“Of course.”

“And we get to wear bandanas for protection right?” Paul asked.

“For sure,” Frankie shook his head. “A good bandana is a must but even then, it only keeps out so much of the crap. You’ll be coughing up dirt and shit all night long let me tell you.”

I continued to listen as I repacked my saddlebag for the third time. Only thing Frankie didn’t explain is that I run a rotation of three teams. Each team works one day at the back and two on a wing. This seems to keep the peace and the men healthy.

“So that’s the job,” Jacob stated with disgust. “We’re going to be doing this same shit, every day, for six weeks straight. Sounds fucking boring.”

“Oh not to me!” Paul countered with a big grin. “This is going to be great. I’m going to have so much time to think and meditate on the Good Book. I hope to write a several inspiring sermons while out here.”