Chapter 55: Warning - Merging Traffic

I picked up the binoculars we kept by the front door as I went outside, then watched as a very rusty old truck and an even older looking trailer came down the grade into the valley and shook my head in wonder. I couldn’t believe that such a tired, worn out appearing pickup had ever pulled that beat up trailer up the big hill on the county road. When they hit the level stretch about two-thirds of the way down the grade, I saw the truck stop and three figures get out to look down at the ranch. I grinned at that, many people stopped at that spot and I could visualize what they were seeing from the viewpoint we’d built there. If you had good eyesight you could see most of the ranch from that spot and I felt quite proud of what you could see. The yard of the ranch was well cared for and the area was relatively neat, but from that viewpoint you could also see all of the pastures, so you could see our cattle, horses, and now goats. I would have bet they were looking for the goats though and when I saw the old man lift his arm and point part way down the valley, I was certain he’d spotted them.

Then one of those three figures must have seen me standing on the front porch because they all got back into the old pickup and slowly continued down the hill. Just then Sandy came outside and glanced in the same direction I was looking.

“I think we may have visitors here for a while,” I said quietly. “At least they brought their own living accomodations with them.”

“Didn’t you say Carissa told you that it was old Juan, but why would he be coming here and why would they be staying here for very long?”

“Yes, she did say that it was Juan and I’m only guessing, but I think he’s here because he missed his goats, so he probably wants to be sure that we’re treating them well,” I chuckled. “The reason I think they’ll be here for a while is because they brought their trailer with them so they’re moving somewhere, but they’re trying to pull it with that beat-up old truck. If you look at the amount of smoke coming out of the exhaust and listen to the noise that engine is making, I doubt if that truck could ever pull that trailer back up our hill. In fact the way that engine sounds, it wouldn’t even pull the empty truck back up the hill, let alone a load of any kind.”

“Oh boy, what do we do now?”

“Well, you invited Juan to come visit to check on the goats, so we make them welcome, at least for now,” I grinned. “They’ve obviously got problems though, so I think we may need to help them out a bit before they’ll be able to leave. Maybe we can hire them to help for a while or something? Unfortunately, since they’re from the States we may have trouble with the government unless they have work visas, but let’s not borrow trouble quite yet. We’ll see what happens, okay?”

“Well since I was making a big pot of chicken and dumplings, we can at least start off by feeding them supper.” Sandy smiled. “I was making enough that I could put some in the freezer for the winter, but I can always make more another day.”

We didn’t have time to say much more because the old truck came grumbling and clanking into the yard then pulled off to the far side of the driveway. When Juan turned the engine off, it died almost instantly and with a very final sounding clunk that drew a brief grimace to my face, but as Juan got out of the truck I managed a big smile.

“Hello Juan. Did you come to see your goats?” I grinned walking toward him and holding out my hand to shake his.

“Si, si, I am wanting to see las cabras, the goats, but I did, from your hill, Senor Crawford,” he looked around and his eyes grew wide, then he threw his arms apart as if trying to embrace the scene “Su rancho es tan grande y tan hermoso!“

“Yeah the ranch is big, but I don’t speak Spanish, Juan. Just what does ‘tan hermoso‘ mean in English?”

“Papa said your ranch is very large and very pretty,” a young girl’s voice answered me. “Sometime when Papa is tired or worried he loses his English.”

“That’s okay. When I’m tired and worried, I sometimes lose my English too, but in my case that’s the only language I speak, so then I’m really lost,” I looked at her face framed in the pickup window and winked.

She broke into a giggle and blushed as she and an older woman stepped out of the old beater pickup.

“Oh, oh, I am have the bad manners,” Juan spoke then. “Senor Crawford, this is my lil’ girl, Maria and mi esposa es Conseula and I am sorry, I now have the trouble with the camión, unh, the truck. On la gran colina, umm, the beeg hill, she have hard time to pull the caravana.”

“Easy Juan, I heard the truck and I knew you were having trouble. I’m sure one way or the other we can help you with it, but I don’t think you can go anywhere with it tonight, but this isn’t a good spot to leave the trailer parked overnight. So why don’t we take the truck out of gear and unhitch the trailer, then we’ll push the truck ahead and I can use my pickup to move the trailer to a better place for it to sit. If you’d like, I can move it over beside my workshop, then we can hook up the electricity and water. In fact there’s a bathroom right next door that you can use if we park it there. It’s got hot water and a shower, as well as a flush toilet.”

“You are very kind, Senor Crawford,” Maria grinned and winked at me. “I think Maman and Papa would like the truck nearby too. We have many things in the back of the truck that they want to keep safe.”

“Well then, why don’t I go get a tractor and a chain, then we’ll pull both the truck and the trailer over to the workshop. If your Papa wants, we can even put the truck inside the equipment shed and close the doors so no animals can get at it, but there won’t be anyone else here overnight, just us.”

“But what about wild animals?” she demanded.

“Ah, we have dogs that keep those away, but right now at least one of them is herding the goats. Just a second,” I whistled then and Duke came tearing across the yard and skidded to a halt at my feet. “This is my dog, Duke. His job is to keep the coyotes and wolves away from my calves, but now he does that for Sandy’s goats too.”

“Well, before you move the trailer, why don’t you all come in and wash up, then we can eat,” Sandy called from the porch. “You can move the trailer and get it set up after we’ve all eaten.”

“You wish us to eat with you, Senora Crawford?” Juan’s wife, Conseula finally spoke.

“Well, of course. You’re our visitors and we often invite our visitors to eat with us,” Sandy had come down off the porch and walked over to the truck. “I’ve never met you before, Mrs. Nunez. I’m Sandy, by the way, not Senora, please.”

In about two minutes she had convinced Conseula and Maria that they were completely welcome. So we went inside, washed up and sat down to a farm meal, salad, chicken and dumplings, carrots and peas, all of it from the ranch. Of course the topic of goats came up over coffee when we’d eaten, but then Sandy had to show off a little bit. She’d managed to comb a few ounces of Cashmere from the goats, so she’d washed it, carded it and spun it into a little ball of wool. That got the women talking about knitting and weaving, so I grinned in Juan’s direction and gave a jerk of my head to suggest we go outside.

While the women were chatting about wool and all the processes involved with that, Juan and I moved the trailer and even levelled it. Juan kept telling me that I didn’t have to do all the things I was doing to make their stay comfortable for them, but I didn’t listen well, in fact I pretended to misunderstand him intentionally once or twice. We had the trailer all set up and the truck moved into the equipment shed before the women came outside, so I suggested it was time to walk out into the pasture and see the goats.

As all five of us walked across the barnyard, my stud horse stuck his head over the rail fence and nickered at me, so I had to wander over and scratch his forehead.

“Oh, what a pretty horse,” Maria raved as she came up close to my side. “I’d love to ride him.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be a good idea,” I laughed softly. “He hasn’t been ridden in a long time and one time, when I tried to ride him after a long break, he managed to put me in the hospital. If you want to ride a horse, we have other horses that are much better for riding. I’ll warn you now though what we have are Quarter Horses and if you happen to give them the idea that you want to cut a cow out of a herd they can turn on a dime, so you’ve got to be ready for a very quick turn or two.”

“Un muy buen semental! - He is very nice stallion,” Juan said just as quietly. “Un caballo muy bueno pour - Unh, you have very good horse there for make more colts.”

“Yeah, I lucked out on him, and he’s sired a lot of good colts, but if you look over in the next breeding pen, we have an even better animal, only he’s still a bit young.”

“You raise the Quarter Horse purebreds?”

“Yep, Purebred Quarter Horse, Purebred Polled Shorthorns and I guess we raise mixed breed Spanish Goats now,” I grinned and started to walk further.

“I’ll bet in a few years we’ll be saying we raise Spanish-Cashmere Goats,” Sandy snapped. “Whether they’ll be called purebreds is something else, but I’m not really worried about that. Oh look, there’s Princess and the goats. She must have decided we wanted to see them and she’s herding them back here for us.”

“I’ll bet she’s just hungry and wants to bring the goats back so she can eat,” I grinned to tease Sandy.

“You know darn well I fed both dogs while you were feeding the pigs the left over skim milk,” Sandy snapped. “Princess is just being a good herd dog.”

“She is very good, but las cabras, the goats, they are not hard to herd. They like people and they even like dogs, but best they like los burritos, little donkeys,” Juan said with a smile.

“Little donkeys? What kind of little donkeys?” I asked.

“I think Papa means the miniature donkeys that come from the Mediterranean. One of our friends has some of them,” Maria giggled. “They have goats too, but funny ones, much bigger goats with big bumps on their noses. The donkeys stay with the goats and boss them around like your dog does.”

“The little donkeys are very brave and they keep away the coyotes and the wolves,” Juan stated flatly. “They are good as a dog, maybe better because they eat the same things what las cabras do.”

I noticed one of the two year old Quarter Horse fillies had gotten caught up with the goats in Princess’ herd and I turned to watch Maria as they came closer. She wasn’t looking at the goats, instead her eyes were on the horse, so I whistled at Duke and had him help Princess bring the goats and horse toward us, then spoke to Maria.

“Would you like to pet a horse?”

“That one? The one with the goats?”

“Unh huh, that’s ‘Little Dancer.’ She’s a two year old filly, and we’ll be having her carry a rider soon.”

“You break your own horses?” Juan asked, surprising me because Maria and I had walked slightly away from Sandy and Conseula.

“No, we don’t ‘break’ a horse like some other ranches do. We gentle them and teach them very carefully with a lot of kindness and patience. The idea is to make the horse want to carry people and not feel that its being forced to do things it doesn’t want to do.”

“Oh, I like that,” he was nodding his head enthusiastically as he ran his hand along the filly’s neck. “Very nice lil’ horse, this one - bonita yegua.”

Since ‘Little Dancer’ wasn’t skittish and had already been worked with for over a year, she was trusting and gentle. She was also a suck for attention, so having both Juan and Maria petting and scratching her itches was her idea of heaven. I backed off, trusting her and them.

“Is that safe,” Conseula asked nodding her head toward the horse as I moved toward her and Sandy, who were surrounded by all the goats.

“Um hmm,” I nodded, with a smile. “The horse is very gentle and very quiet. The only horses we have that are skittish are ones that I’ve bought from others, older mares that weren’t treated as well as we treat our horses, but even they’re coming around.”

“Mr. Crawford, how do you do it? How do just two people look after so much, such a big rancho?”

“We have two men who help us most of the time and we have friends and family who just seem to show up when we need extra help,” Sandy offered, but turned her head and winked at me.

“Oh, I thought perhaps Juan and Maria, perhaps even me ... Well, I thought maybe we might help for a while, perhaps to earn enough to have our truck fixed?” she spoke quietly and hesitantly. “The money we got from selling the goats was needed to pay debts, then we thought we’d come back to Canada to see if we could find work, but now...”

I was listening closely and she had an accent, but it wasn’t Mexican like Juan’s. Instead she sounded like she might be French, or perhaps French Canadian and she’d said ‘come back to Canada, ‘ so...

“Aren’t you American?” Sandy asked, since she must have noticed the same words.

“What? Oh, no, we’re all Canadians, but we lived in the States for the last few years. I was born in Montreal, and Maria was born in the Okanagan when we lived there. Juan was born in Mexico, but he became a Canadian citizen many years ago. I have a sister who lives in Manitoba, outside of Winnipeg and we thought we’d try to go there for work, if we didn’t find anything sooner.”

The fact that there wouldn’t be a legal battle over citizenship put a different light on things, but when Sandy looked at me with ‘cow eyes, ‘ I rolled mine as if I was being unduly influenced.

“Can we think about it overnight?” I smiled at Conseula. “I can tell you right now, we can’t legally hire Maria since she’s so young. In fact she’ll have to go to school if we do hire you and Juan.”

“Oh, she would love to go to a regular school, but can’t she help around the ranch too? She’s very good with animals, just like Juan who is very good with horses, donkeys and goats. I like to grow things and look after young animals, so I can help with that. I can milk a cow and even drive a tractor though.”

“For the next few days, why don’t you just relax and we’ll think about it,” I smiled, trying to sound as noncommital as possible. “One thing you need to know is that in the winter this place can be very isolated.”

“You saw where we lived before and that is more isolated than here,” she laughed. “We were there for four years and we loved it. This ranch is far from town, but we don’t like to be around towns or big cities anyway so...”

“Okay. We’ll think about it,” I said firmly.

So later that evening I talked to Sandy and I called Dad to asked him what he thought, then in the morning I talked it over with Matt and John. Now I knew that the two guys weren’t the ideal long term workers for the ranch, but they were loyal and I did owe them for that. Both of them enjoyed working with machinery and they liked building things, but since they’d never had any experience with animals, I’d had to teach them how to care for the stock on the ranch. Neither of them really had the patience necessary to train the horses either and on top of that they admitted they didn’t like working on the ranch in the winter months, which made me chuckle. I mean, who could possibly enjoy slogging through deep snow and putting up with freezing weather for months at a time, but for me the other seven or eight months of the year made living on the ranch worth the effort.

In the long run I hired Juan, and Sandy talked me into hiring Conseula to help her around the house and yard. Before the month of July was done I had called Charlie Engels, Big Ed Yarowski and Clarence Walker, then arranged to have a basic, single-story, three bedroom log cabin built for Juan and his family. In fact Clarence saved us some money by talking me into buying a ‘log home kit’ from an outfit in BC and having it trucked in. Everything had been prebuilt and each part was labelled, then it was taken apart and shipped to us, so all Clarence and his crew had to do was assemble it and finish the interior. We had to keep it on the homestead, not the lease, but we wanted it a little distant from the main house so both families could have some privacy. After a lot of discussion we chose a spot on the other side of the creek from the main ranch buildings and built them an access road joining our entrance road just short of the bridge across the creek. In the end it still ended up being a very costly cabin, since it meant we had to install an extension to our electrical service, a new well and a new septic tank, along with a new disposal field. We even built a foot bridge for a short-cut across the creek, but when we were done I felt certain it was one of the best investments we could have made toward the success of the ranch. Both Juan and Maria were wonderful with any of our animals and they noticed things that even I might have missed. At the same time I think Conseula had more than just a green thumb, I’m sure she had completely green hands because she seemed to be able to make anything grow. Clarence and his crew did almost all the work on their house and they finished it very well, but also very quickly. Juan, Conseula and Maria moved into their new house before the last week of August.

Since they now had a house, Juan approached me and asked if I could see if anyone would trade their old trailer for a used pickup truck which would give them some transportation and independence. Truthfully I didn’t think the trailer was worth much, but Matt did, so he and John hauled it off one weekend and came back with an old Dodge pickup that looked a bit rough, but seemed to be mechanically sound. John admitted later that they’d taken the trailer out to Sundre and had made the trade there so the ‘boys in the bush’ would have a better place to sleep. If nothing else that told me a lot about the condition those poor young buggers out there faced, because that old trailer was in rough shape. I wasn’t really happy about that deal though, because if the former owners were that broke, I didn’t trust the truck.

So I gave the Nunez family a long weekend off, then loaned them my pickup, arranged for a motel for three nights and gave them tickets to see a horse show in Calgary. While they were gone I arranged for Tom and George to give me a hand to give that pickup a quick going over. The power train actually was in decent shape, but we did some work on the steering and brakes, replacing tie-rod ends and brake pads, then I insisted on buying Juan a new set of tires because those on the truck were shot. Of course George got into the act, first finding a new bench seat, because the one in Juan’s truck was split and ruined, then he found a set of front fenders to replace the bent and rusty ones on the front of the old Dodge. Once we were satisfied with the mechanical condition of that old pickup, we took it into the shop, sanded down the body and painted it. When Juan, Consuela and Maria came back and found it parked in their driveway, you’d have thought we’d given them a brand new truck and they wouldn’t believe us when we said the good fairy must have done it. As a result of having that truck available to them at any time, Juan and Conseula did get out and about more often, which was the point of the whole enterprise.

Of course the Nunez family also gave both Sandy and I more time to do other jobs and even indulge ourselves in a few hobbies. Naturally one of my hobbies was still Car 54, so the last weekend of July I was able to try driving the rebuilt version of the old stock car for the first time. Tom, George and Frank Dolens’ crew had virtually built a complete car from the frame up over the winter, but had based the new car on a two year newer version of the same make and model as the old car. Frank had been on my case about taking it out to the track all spring and summer and I couldn’t really blame him, since it had been ready to race for months. Since that weekend would be our first time to race it though, we arranged to get to the track several hours before the races in case we needed to make an adjustment or two. Unfortunately when I got into the drivers seat of the new version of Car 54, it simply didn’t feel the same to me as the old car had. Once I had it warmed up I’d do a few fast laps, then Tom and George would make an adjustment and I’d do another lap or two, but nothing they did seemed to help. I just didn’t have the same control that I’d felt with the other car, I even felt uncomfortable making moves which I thought were second nature to me. Just establishing a controlled slide in the corners was an adventure and I almost put the car into the wall several times. Finally, after wasting several hours as we tried various adjustments in a vain attempt to tame that beast, Tom, George and I had grown extremely frustrated with the car. So, when I saw Frank Dolens drive in, I marched over to talk to him.

“This new car scares hell out of me, Frank,” I told him candidly. “It feels too big and too heavy. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s just not set up right. Then too, it feels as if this frame is weaker than the old one and in a corner the car seems to twist itself out of alignment, then the front end wants to go one way and the rear end skates off in another direction. Although Tom understands what I’m feeling out there and can even see it happen, he can’t think of any way to correct the problem, but then neither can I. I just don’t feel safe driving the damn beast and I’m not about to race it in the shape it’s in now. I think that damn thing is an accident looking for a place to happen and I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I just might if I can’t control the bloody thing at speed.”

Frank noticed that Clarence had just pulled back into the pits after doing a few fast laps and since he’d been racing the same model of car all year, Frank and I went over to talk to him. He didn’t have any ideas that might help, but he suggested we swap and try each others car for a few laps. When I got behind the wheel of Clarence’s car I felt fine and could control his car quite well, but darn if he didn’t keep up to me.

Afterward he shook his head and sighed. “It’s strange, and I could feel it acting dodgey, but I don’t know what causes the problem. It feels as if this frame isn’t strong enough or something, perhaps that changes the wheel alignment as you go into a corner, but who knows? I seem to be able to compensate for what happens, but I’d have to say that it isn’t going to be an easy car to race because that car almost seems to have a mind of its own. To be honest I wouldn’t want to race it either, because I’d be paying too much attention to my car and not enough attention on the other drivers in the race.”

He bit his lip and frowned. “Look, Chris, if you really don’t like the car and don’t feel safe driving it, what would you think of selling it? I mean it is ready to race and there are several guys who’d jump at the idea of buying Car 54, even if they had to fight it around the track every lap. You guys have virtually created a legend with this car and guys will pay a lot just for the name and number.”

I looked at Frank and he shrugged his shoulders, “If you don’t feel comfortable in it, you won’t enjoy racing and that’s half of why we’re here. Besides, it does take a lot of time for both of us and I think there are other things we could both be doing.”

“Yeah, it is getting harder to get here each year, but I don’t feel comfortable selling it either, because I’m not the only one involved.” I frowned. “You’ve invested more in it than I have, so what do you think we should do?”

“Well, why not sell it, then turn it into something worthwhile, maybe a donation of some kind?” he suggested.

So he and I talked to Tom and George, then we went and talked to the track officials. In the long run we held an auction after the hot laps, but before the start of the elimination races. Clarence and I put on a bit of a display with our two cars during the hot laps though, each in the other’s car, since he handled the new 54 better than I did. It wasn’t really a surprise that the bidding for Car 54 was hot and heavy, but to many people’s surprise Gary Wagner was the highest bidder and final buyer. We received a huge round of applause from the crowd when we donated the money from Car 54’s sale to the track, asking that it was used to buy safety equipment, or perhaps be used to help cover the cost of the EMT’s who attended each race.

To my astonishment Gary Wagner won the fifty lap main later in the day, and he did it while driving the new version of Car 54.

The whole rigamarole had left me feeling a bit uncomfortable though. Now you have to understand, not only had Frank given me the original car and gotten me into racing, but besides that he’d approached me only a week before, trying to buy the house I’d inherited, fixed up and rented to Lucille. He wanted to give the house to the new couple as a wedding gift.

“Sorry Frank, that’s impossible,” I’d shaken my head and grinned. “That house is going to be a wedding gift alright, but from the Crawford side of the Bender clan. Dad and Will approached me over that when Jerry and Lucille first announced their wedding day and Lucille asked Dad to walk her down the aisle.”

“But your family just spent a bundle fixing that house, and on top of that it will be the biggest present they’ll get from anyone,” he frowned. “Jennifer and I can’t beat that, so we’d really like to be in on the deal.”

“Well, Dad and Will split the cost of the repairs, but as far as I’m concerned the house was a freebie and to me, I’ve already satisfied my commitment on it. Grampa Bender’s will said I had to get someone to move into the house and make a profit on it. Lucille’s rent for the first month legally did that, because if you look at the actual facts, I never paid one red cent for the house and her rent easily paid for the inheritance taxes. So, if you can argue Dad and Wil into sharing the cost of the repairs with you, I’ll go along with the idea,” I grinned. “It will cost you a huge favour to earn a split of my share though.”

“What sort of favour is worth half the price of a house?” he looked at me with slightly leery frown.

“Well, you may have heard that I hired a new herdsman, only the truck he was driving died just as he made it to my driveway. He wants to fix the truck, probably for some sentimental reason or other, but I’m having a problem finding parts. I don’t mind paying for everything, but you have better contacts than I have, so I’m asking for your help to find things. He owns a 1946 Chevrolet pickup and we need a repairable engine, clutch and transmission, as well as a set of rear fenders and a few other small parts. Juan has worked out so well that I’d like to restore that old wreck so it looks like new, and before you offer to rebuild it for him, he and I want to do the work ourselves during the winter.”

“Okay, you need another old truck for parts and you need an engine, probably just a short-block, but how about anything else. What about the tires and rims, how are they?”

“I already ordered the tires from you last week, and while the rims aren’t perfect, they’re serviceable, so we could use them if necessary,” I laughed.

Frank went hunting during the next week and found a complete 1946 Chevy pickup truck, then personally delivered it. All the fenders and box were in great shape, but the cab had been shot so full of bullet holes that it was pretty well useless. The engine in the parts truck looked pretty rough too, but in the pickup’s box were two crates containing a rebuilt short-block engine and a transmission. Stacked beside the two crates were four new tires already mounted on brand new rims. I had a hard time accepting that Frank had found so many of the parts we needed and done it so quickly, but Juan and Conseula simply couldn’t believe their eyes. Not only that, but Frank had only charged me dealer cost on everything he’d found for us.

But that deal with the truck had happened the week before we went to the stock car race, so after the race, as I was standing next to Frank I felt a bit as if I’d taken advantage of him over the last while.

“Sorry I feel uncomfortable trying to drive that car, Frank. I know you were counting on me racing in it this year,” I said apologetically.

“Whatever are you worried about?” he snorted. “Car 54 has been a great advertisement gimmick for me. I’ve made ten times more from it than I spent and I’ve had a lot of fun out of being involved with it at the same time. Besides, it’s been enjoyable to watch three young boys mature into confident young men that I’m proud to call my friends. Now before we start to sound as if this is the last time we’ll ever haggle or deal with each other, let’s go down and congratulate Gary. Perhaps with your help I can convince him to keep my dealership name on the car in exchange for a few tires and an occasional paint job?”

Lucille and Jerry’s wedding happened on the 8th of August, but it was a relatively small wedding, just friends and family members. All the women looked gorgeous in their new dresses and all the guys looked uncomfortable in their new suits, in other words a perfectly normal wedding. Come to think of it, perhaps that wedding wasn’t all that normal for the town of Mountview. After all there were no major faux pas to feed the rumour mill. There were no big fights. No one got overly drunk, then drove into a ditch or smacked into a tree on the way home. In other words it was an extremely tame party considering what normally happened during wedding celebrations in our town. It only rated a couple of lines in the local newspaper, so I suppose the rumour mongers around town felt it must have been a boring wedding. I really don’t know, since it was the first wedding I ever remember going to, so I have nothing to compare it with.