“I’m terribly sorry about your pa. I know the two of you were very close. I want you to know he had a very nice funeral, with just about everyone in town attending. I’d be pleased to accompany you to the cemetery when you are ready.”
“I’m ready anytime you are,” I replied. “Do you know if the sheriff is still looking for me? If he is, maybe I should take care of that little problem first.”
“I think the sheriff is out of town today, so even if he is looking for you, it won’t happen today. Let me get my small traveling Bible and we’ll go.”
I thanked Mrs. Colson and told her how much I enjoyed the cookies and cider again, and that I hoped to see her soon, and we left for the cemetery.
It was located up on a little knoll by the little Church House east of town. There was a slight incline as we got closer to the Church. A sudden gust of wind hit me full in the face, nearly causing me to lose my footing on the slope. Pastor Colson reached for me as I stumbled.
“Watch your step, Jed. We’re almost there.” The wind was almost nonexistent as we came into the protection of the Church building. We walked behind and proceeded to the little cemetery where many good and bad people lay at rest. I followed the Pastor to the back of the cemetery where Pa’s grave was. There was a rough-fashioned wooden cross on the grave bearing Pa’s name.
Pastor Colson lay his hand on my shoulder and said quietly, “I’ll leave you alone for a while.”
I removed my hat and knelt on the ground beside the grave that held pa’s body, but I knew that wasn’t my pa in that coffin. He had already ascended into the heavens to sit with Jesus at the right hand of God. Tears began running down my face as I remembered how much I loved and respected him. Not only had he been my Pa and Ma, but he was my friend, and I was going to miss him so very much. I raised up, brushed the tears from my face, then put my hat back on my head and turned to go to Pastor Colson, who was standing over to the side of the graves.
“It was a fine funeral, Jedidiah,” he said. “What are your plans now? I know you will want to talk to Mr. Sanders, the lawyer, as I know he has your Pa’s last will and testament.”
“Well, while the sheriff is out of town, I would like to go and see Penelope, and maybe stop by the livery stable and see how it is doing.”
“Jed, I am extremely sorry to have to tell you this, but Penelope and Jeremy were married just last weekend.”
My heart seemed to stop beating for a second, and I stumbled to keep my balance.
“How about the livery stable, did someone else take it over too?”
“No, Hank Crenshaw has been running it day and night. He said he would run it until you came back to take it over. The Blacksmith Shop has been closed all these months. As for the farm, your neighbor Homer Kingsaver has been coming each evening and tending the stock.”
“Maybe I should go talk to Mr. Sanders now,” I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
I headed to Main Street where the lawyer’s office was located, and I felt as though a big boulder was on my shoulders as I stepped up on the boardwalk and entered the office. Mr. Sanders was sitting at a desk off to the side of a room behind a little wooden fence.
“What can I do for you, young man?” He stood and extended his right hand. “My name in Arthur Sanders.”
“My name is Jedidiah Isaiah Jenkins, and my Pa was Jeremiah Jenkins. Pastor Colson told me you had his last will and testament.”
“Yes, Yes, of course. Be seated please, and I will get it.” He turned, opened a file cabinet, and took out a large brown envelope with papers inside.
“This is it,” he said, as he sat behind his desk and opened the envelope. He removed some papers and began to read. “I, Jeremiah Israel Jenkins, being of sound mind and body, do bequeath all my worldly belongings to my only son, Jedidiah Isaiah Jenkins.”
“It looks as if it is very direct and simple. Your father left everything to you. That includes the Livery Stable, the Blacksmith Shop, and of course the Homestead. There is also a substantial amount of money in the bank that is yours as well. Here is a copy of the will for you to take with you. If I can be of anymore assistance to you, please contact me anytime.”
He stood and handed me the papers, shook my hand again, and escorted me to the door. My boot heels echoed on the porch steps as I left his office.
Then, like a tap on my shoulder, instinct caused a warning bell to sound in my head. I quickly whirled around and spotted a lone gunman on the rooftop of a building across the empty street with a rifle pointed in my direction. I ducked just as a bullet nicked the crown of my Stetson.
I drew and shot in one fluid movement, and the fellow tumbled off the roof and landed face down in the dusty street. I replaced the spent cartridge and walked over to where he was laying in the street, just as people came running from their hiding places.
“That’s the sheriff’s best friend,” exclaimed one of the men. They all gathered around gawking at the dead man, and then they all looked at me.
“Say, ain’t you the Blacksmith’s kid?” someone asked.
“Yes I am, and yes I know the sheriff will be looking for me when he gets back into town,” I replied.
I walked away from the gathered crowd and headed for the Livery Stable, where I needed to find my friends and partners to let them know all that had transpired. The bright noonday sun cast my long shadow in front of me, and it looked as though I was chasing myself. I walked south on Main, turned left on Hickory, and headed straight for the Livery Stable and Blacksmith Shop.
There was Orville’s buckboard, sitting beside the Livery Stable. I walked inside, and Orville and Half Loaf were lying in one of the stalls fast asleep. Hank Crenshaw was sitting on a bag of seeds, leaning back against the wall with his hat pulled low over his eyes, snoring as loud as Orville. I decided not to wake them just then, as I had some more exploring I needed to do.
I walked next door to the Blacksmith Shop, and the door was closed with a sign that read, SHOP CLOSED! IN NEED OF BLACKSMITH! See Henry Plank, next door in the telegraph office.
I went next door and asked Mr. Plank if he had any folks interested in buying the shop.
“It sure is good to see you, Jed. No, but there was one elderly gentleman that wanted to rent or lease it. Are you back to stay, Son? You know the sheriff is still on the prod for you. It’s a good thing for you that he is out of town today.”
“Did anyone explain to him that I had no choice about killing his brother?”
“He’s a very bitter and vindictive man, and he said it didn’t matter why you shot his brother. He was going to get you if it was the last thing he did.”
“Maybe I can get things settled up and be out of town before he returns. If the man returns wanting to lease the shop, let him have it at a reasonable price. It doesn’t look as though I will be taking it over.”
I walked back to the livery and woke up Orville, Mr. Crenshaw, and Half Loaf. Orville said he had made a deal with Mr. Crenshaw to buy the extra saddles and horses that we had.
Mr. Crenshaw said, “That was before I knew they were with you, Jed. Seeing as how you are back now, I will be letting you make the business decisions.”
“That’s alright, Mr. Crenshaw. I won’t be staying, and I would like to make an agreement with you to keep running the Livery Stable, if you’ve a mind to. I will arrange with the bank for you to deposit the money from the Livery Stable and to pay you a salary. And Mr. Plank next door is seeing to leasing the Blacksmith Shop to a gentleman who is interested. We do need whatever amount of money you agreed to for the horses and saddles. Orville, why don’t you and Half Loaf take the extra outfits over to the mercantile and see what Mr. Salinger is willing to pay for them. He’s always seemed like a fair business man. I’m going to the bank to see what they have to say about my Pa’s account.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
I walked into the bank, and looked for the manager who I found at a desk off to one side and behind the counter. I walke
d up to him, and asked, “Have you got a little time to spare? I need to conduct some business with you.”
“Of course, you’re the Jenkins boy aren’t you? My condolences to you for your loss. I suppose you’re here to discuss your Father’s account, which I suppose under the circumstances is your account now. There is an ample amount of funds for you to continue the same line of credit that your father had with us.”
“I’m not sure what I plan to do right at this moment. I just wanted to check in with you and see if everything was in order.”
“Quite so, quite so, will you be needing any funds while you are here?”
“No, but thank you for inquiring. I’ll let you know when circumstances change.” We stood and shook hands, then I left the bank and headed back to the Livery Stable. When I got there, I explained the circumstances of how it happened that I had to shoot the sheriff’s best friend.
Orville and Half Loaf both said, “It sure looks like you’re not too welcome in this town. I thought you said you grew up here?”
“I did, and since you mentioned that, I think I would like to go and check the Home Place.” You’re both welcome to tag along if you want to.”
They both declined, stating that I would probably want to be alone for a little while. Perhaps they would ride out in a day or two. I looked at them, realizing what true friends they really were at that moment. I climbed into the saddle, waved, and rode out of town toward some of the most pleasant memories of my short life.
As Sugar and I approached the house, I noticed that it was in need of some repair. I suppose with nobody living in it, it had gotten kind of run-down. In the hush of the moment, a breeze stirred the leaves of the big cottonwood at the side of the house. I tied Sugar to the hitching rail in front of the house, took a deep breath, and walked inside. I surveyed the room, and realized that the last time I was here, Pa had just left for town, and I was getting ready to finish my chores so I could shoot some targets out behind the barn. I walked over to the sink as a warm breeze stirred the lace curtains and filled the kitchen with the sweet blend of honeysuckle and lavender. I breathed in the mingled scents and sighed, remembering the last time I stood in exactly the same spot looking out across the yard, then I dropped to my knees and prayed.
“Dear Lord, I didn’t choose this path that I’m on, but I’m trying to understand why these events are unfolding in my life, and I vow that whatever does happen, I will try my best to do things according to Your Will. Amen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
I mounted up and rode west about four miles, to Mr. Kingsaver’s place. He was in the corral working a Roan Mare.
“Welcome, Jed. Climb down, I’m sorry about your Pa. I’m glad to see you back.”
I slid out of the saddle and accepted his hand, which was callused and rough, the way a working man’s hand should be.
“I wanted to thank you for helping out in my absence, and ask you if you would be willing to continue, as I’m not sure if I will be able to stay around because the sheriff thinks he has a beef against me and wants to shoot me on sight.”
“Yes, I heard about that when I was in town, and let me tell you, most of the town folks don’t agree with him about that. But, he is the sheriff, and you know he rules this town and has it locked up with his cronies calling the shots. How about if I move your stock over here, since you don’t have that many, and then I can check in on the house and such every week or so. Or, I will be glad to continue as is for as long as you need me to.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Kingsaver. I will tell all the merchants in town to extend credit to you for any supplies you might need.” I extended my hand, and he took it, gripping solidly.
Then he said with a sincere voice, “I am indeed sorry about your pa. He was one of the best friends a man could ask for, and a really good neighbor.” I told him I was grateful for his words and his help, then turned, mounted Sugar, and headed back to town.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
As I rode into the sunset, the golden rays bathed the brown prairie grass in a reflection of light, causing it to appear as if the ground was glowing from inside out. It was a beautiful sight and, as always, I was amazed at the wonders of creation that God created.
As I rode into town, I was just turning down toward the Livery Stable when a young lad about nine years old, with freckles and a big cowlick, said Pastor Colson wanted me to come to his house at seven o’clock. I offered him a penny, but he refused, saying Pastor Colson had already paid him. I pulled the pocket watch that my Grandpa had given me from my shirt pocket and saw it was almost seven, so I turned and rode toward the Pastor’s house. I arrived at his home right on time.
He said, “Let's enjoy a piece of Mrs. Colson's cherry pie, and then we’ll discuss why I asked you to come here.”
We were just finishing a big piece of cherry pie with a glass of milk when there was a knock on the door.
Pastor Colson got up to answer it, then said, “Jed, it's for you.”
I looked up as Penelope stepped through the door with a hangdog expression. I stood politely, turned to face her, and slid my hands into my pockets.
“I heard you were back, and I wanted to see you to explain.” She looked up at me with those pale blue eyes and her little innocent face. “Please listen and try to understand that I didn't know if you were coming back or not. And then one night Jeremy and I went a little too far as we were kissing, and the next thing I knew he was asking me to marry him. He's a good husband, and he will be a good father. Please don't be mad at us, we both love you and want to be friends.” Her pale blue eyes seemed to change colors as she looked sheepishly at me.
I stood there, cocked a single eyebrow at her, and said with an air of confidence, “I knew all along that you favored him more than me. Why would I be upset with either one of you? Congratulations to you and to Jeremy also?” My throat seemed to close up on me as I tried to swallow the lump that was there and I said, “Please excuse me, I need to get some fresh air.” I stumbled out the door, then hurried off the porch and mounted Sugar.
The moon seemed just a shade or two darker in the night sky. I kneed Sugar in the direction of the Livery Stable. I sure had a lot to share with Orville and Half Loaf. I could only wonder how they would react when I told them I would be leaving town as soon as I arranged with the bank and the merchants on how to handle my affairs until I could return.
Orville had the tent set up behind the Livery Stable, and had a small fire built with coffee brewing and some beans and bacon in the frying pan, along with some hard-tack.
“You’re just in time. Grab a plate and cup, and park yourself over on that bench we borrowed from the Stable.” I scooped some beans and bacon onto my plate, grabbed a piece of hardtack, then poured myself a cup of Orville’s famous coffee, sat, and began eating. No one said anything while we were eating.
When we finished Half Loaf asked, “What’re you planning to do now? Seeing as how it doesn’t seem likely you can stay here. I will travel with you and stand by your side wherever you decide to go.”
Orville chimed in and exclaimed, “You young pups ain’t gonna leave me behind. I’m going with you!” When the dishes were cleaned and stored in the buckboard, I told them I would be going to the bank as soon as it opened in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
The next morning, after we had sausage and biscuits and gravy, I headed for the bank. As I reached the corner of the building across from the bank, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye that caused me to stand as still as a frightened mouse. Across the street and up about half a block, I saw the sheriff as he stepped out of Myrtle's Café. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and placed a toothpick between his whiskered lips. I quickly ducked back into the alley between the buildings where I had been standing. I wasn't quite ready for a showdown with our illustrious sheriff, so I just watched as he continued on to the Sheriff's Office and Jail. When the door closed behind him, I changed direct
ions and worked my way to the back of the Livery Stable. I quickly told Orville and Half Loaf what had just occurred. I explained that I had been on my way to the bank and other merchants in town, to arrange for all the people who were going to be taking care of my business, and the farm to be properly compensated. As soon as I had completed those things, I was planning on coming back and the three of us riding out. But, I saw the sheriff. I didn’t feel like facing him now, so I came back here.
Now, it looks as though we’re going to have to leave sooner than I had figured. Orville said he had no problem with that. He had been packed since our last meal. Half Loaf said he was ready also, and he had saddled Sugar, just in case something like this did happen. It was great to have Orville for a partner because, while I was running around taking care of things, he had replenished our supplies and also added some special things that I was going to enjoy later. He had been a Mess Sergeant in the union army, so he knew how to order supplies and cook great meals. We headed out to . . . I wasn’t quite sure. My short term plans were to stop at the next town that had a telegram and send instructions to all the parties that would be handling my affairs. Anything other than that would have to be worked out between the three of us.
I asked, “You fellows remember when we talked about my pa’s brothers? How they split up and went in different directions? I was thinking, since we can’t stay in this area, how about let’s go visit my uncle James in Velvet Sky, Arizona. He’s supposed to have a big cattle ranch there in the foothills of the mountains. What’d you think? You wanta go?”
“Sounds like a good idea. I’m ready. Are you ready, Half Loaf?”
“I am ready, also.”
After checking the cinch on Sugar's saddle, I mounted and proclaimed, “I'm ready, let's ride!
Let’s go to Velvet Sky, Arizona.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I have always wanted to write a book. I celebrated my 73rd birthday June 2014 and decided I had to hurry if I wanted to share what I had in mind with others. I published some Poetry Books in 2013, but somehow that just didn't seem enough. I have always loved western stories, so what should I try my hand at writing? You're right! A western themed story. Well, here is my feeble attempt in telling about a young man who is struggling with the trials that come into his life.