CHAPTER 01
As the sun peeked across the ranch, the rooster flew on the fence rail to sound the alarm for everyone to get up and start the day. Upon hearing the rooster crowing, I awakened to a soft breeze coming from the opened window as the sun shined through it. I enjoyed having the window open in the summer months. I liked hearing the birds singing in the morning and evening. It was sweet music to my ears. The sun gave me warmth as I changed from my nightshirt to jeans and a button shirt. I did a quick brush of my shoulder-length mahogany brown hair. Jingles came bouncing into my room. She was a black and white Shepard mix who wanted my attention. She was a sweet, lovable dog and protective of me. I gave Jingles a scratch behind the ears. Next, she wanted a belly rub as she flopped down on the floor.
Several years ago, when my parents and I were coming home from town, we heard a whimpering in the woods. I dismounted from my horse. Pa stepped down from the surrey. We carefully walked into the woods to find the source of the whimpering. We came upon two barely weaned puppies next to a tree. I gently picked up the puppies. I gave Pa one puppy to carry. We carried the puppies to the surrey.
When Mama saw the puppies, she gasped,” I can’t believe you found those beautiful puppies in the woods.”
Pa gave her the puppy he was carrying in his arms. As I was giving Mama the puppy I was carrying, I noticed the front paw appeared to be broken. I showed dad the front paw.
“When we get the puppy home, we’ll splint it,” Pa said, stepping into the surrey.
I named one puppy Jingles, and my parents named her sister Queenie. Jingles stayed at my house and my parents kept Queenie at their house. Being both houses were a short distance away on the ranch, Jingles and Queenie grew up together, enjoying the ranch.
I walked down the hall with Jingles following me. After a quick breakfast of eggs, toast, and coffee, I was ready to start the day. I put my hat on as I walked out the door. Jingles and I walked to the barn.
As I walked into the barn, I saw Rance getting the halter and rope ready for the horse we were breaking in. Suddenly, the one horse, named Lilly, decided to toss hay onto Rance as he walked past her stall. She was the mischievous horse, we had to watch for the tricks she would do. Lilly let out a loud laugh. Rance stood there for a second with hay on him. He shook his average build to remove the hay. Next, he brushed his black hair with his hands to get the hay out of his hair.
“Rance, I see Lilly is still up to her tricks,” I happily said.
Lilly would toss hay at anyone passing her stall.
“I should have remembered not to walk past Lilly’s stall,” Rance quipped.
I gave Lilly a pat on the cheek as I told her not to do it again. She softly whinnied. Hue walked into the barn to get King and Beauty, two black Frisians, for my parent’s surrey. We exchanged hellos.
Hue walked the two horses to my parent’s surrey with a fringed canopy. Rance offered his help to hitch up the team. After they finished hitching the team, Hue drove the team to my parent’s house. When they heard the surrey arriving, they stepped outside. Hue stepped down from the surrey as my parents stepped into the surrey. My father took the reins.
My parents’ names were Ryan and Della Raine. They were a happily married couple who owned the furniture store in town. Della did the booking and took customer orders. Ryan and his brother, Harry, made the furniture by hand. They carved designs into the wood as requested by the customers. Harry lived above the store. Ryan positioned his medium build in the padded seat to get comfortable for the drive into town. He was wearing his usual work clothes, blue pants, and a matching shirt. His gray hat covered his mahogany brown hair. He kept himself clean-shaven because he didn’t like whiskers. Della’s golden locks were under a floral hat. Her slender build shifted onto the seat to get comfortable for the ride. Her pale blue dress went with her baby-blue eyes. Ryan urged the team of horses into a trot.
As they drove past the barn, I gave my parents a wave. My Mama returned the wave with her thin, pink lips forming a smile. I heard my Pa say,” If you need anything, you know where to find us.” I told them to have a good day.
My parents and I owned Dogwood Ranch. The name of the ranch came from my grandparents because of the dogwood trees. I raised quarter horses. I had a contract with the Cavalry to sell them trained horses. Furthermore, I also had a buggy and horse rental for those visiting town or for anyone who needed a horse. Sometimes, I sold horses to other farmers and ranchers. My ranch was known to have sound, quality horses. Rance was the trainer. My friend, Kale, and I would ride the broken horses to get them used to trails. The ranch’s variety of terrain, including a mountain with a rocky trail, made it a good training ground.
Rance’s grandfather, a Cherokee tribal elder, taught him how to break the horses. He didn’t break the horses the usual way. He would use a different technique. Being the horses were born on the ranch, they were halter-broke first. Rance believed in breaking a horse gently. The horses would become used to our touches and voices. The horse’s trust was earned through patience and respect. A blanket was placed on the horse’s back to get used to the feel of it. We would hang our sweaty shirts near the horses to become familiar with the scent of humans. Rance didn’t believe in breaking a horse by force. He wanted the horse to be broken without breaking its spirit. Eventually, a saddle would be placed on the horse’s back and slowly tighten. The bridle would be next. We would step into the stirrups to get the horse used to the weight. Lastly, the horse would be led to the creek to finish breaking in. We would walk the horse into the creek up to its belly. Carefully, we stepped into the saddle and then slid completely onto the saddle. After a few minutes, the horses were broken. We would ride out of the water doing a slow walk. The horses would learn the commands to stop and go. Kale and I would work on training the horses for trail riding and become used to noises.
Hue was Kale’s brother. He did the repairs and assisted with the horses. He was helping Kale with a horse when I went to the tack room to get a saddle and bridle. Hue was a wiry build with red hair and freckles on his cheeks. I heard his deep voice talking to Kale about the horse she was going to ride. He didn’t think the horse was ready for the trails. Kale’s auburn hair was pulled back under her tan hat. She moved her medium build with ease as she cinched the saddle. She brushed her hands on her pants when they started to feel sweaty. After her hands were dry, she put on her riding gloves. Her red checkered shirt was becoming damp from the morning sun. She stepped into the stirrup to mount the horse.
When he saw me, he said,” Tacy, I think the horses you two are going to ride need a little more work.”
I put the saddle on a reddish-brown horse named Bo. I put a Winchester in the rifle sheath, because never knew if we would need it or not. Kale’s horse was a chestnut mare named Peaches. Both were ready to be trail ridden. I had to get twenty horses ready for the Cavalry in four months. I had twelve horses ready to go and am still working on the remaining eight horses.
As I mounted my horse,” We’ll get them ready. We’ll use the easy trail first and then lead up to the hard trail. Hue, you can join us by riding Pepper, the black stallion. He needs more time on the trail.”
Hue shrugged his shoulders as he walked up to Pepper, waiting in the stall. When he finished saddling him, we were on our way. Rance went to Blossom, a dapple gray, to work with her on getting used to the saddle.
While we were riding the trail toward the mountain, we heard the sound of hammers pounding from the mining town. We looped around the fence line. We were curious to see what they were building. When Hue and Kale’s father, Ira, saw the riders, he started walking toward them. Upon recognizing the riders, Ira began to smile. We brought our horses to a halt in front of Ira.
“Hello, papa,” Hue happily said.
“What are you building?” I asked. I started to see miners carrying their belongings from the tents to the houses.
“The families receive houses first. The single men stay at the boarding house we built for them. We are building more houses because more people will be coming sometime next month. The coal company boss waits at the ports. As people get off the boats, they are told jobs and housing are waiting for them. They are told a pretty picture, but not the truth. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t come,” Ira spoke in a European accent.
Ira removed a blue bandana to wipe the sweat from his tan face and neck. His average build stood before us with saw dust sparsely on his pants and shirt, with a black hat covering his light brown hair.
“Papa, take my canteen, and have a cold drink of water before going back to work,” Kale said. She removed the canteen from the saddle horn.
Ira took the canteen from Kale. He removed the cork and took a swig. The cool water felt refreshing to his dry throat. After he finished drinking, he returned the cork to the canteen. He gave the canteen to Kale. She hung it on her saddle horn.
A burly-built man with a meaty face stomped toward Ira. The burly man’s overgrown mustache had tobacco juice drool on the corner of his mouth from the wad of tobacco stuffed into his cheek. His partially bald head had sweat beads on top. His hat hung from behind his neck on his back. A round badge with a star in the middle had the words inscribed on it: COAL AND IRON POLICE, pinned on his shirt. He was wearing scruffy clothes with a pistol strapped around his waist and a small club hung from the belt.
“No breaks, Ira. Return to your work,” the man gruffly said.
“If I want to talk to them, I will. You don’t give the orders, Rex,” Ira snapped.
“When I tell the foreman, you’ll lose be docked a day’s pay,” Rex hissed.
“Go right ahead, I don’t care. You know Hue, and Kale are my son and daughter. Tacy is their friend and mine, too. You’ll say and do anything to get someone into trouble,” Ira snarled.
When Rex went to remove his club, I withdrew my Winchester. As I moved my lever action,” Touch him, and I’ll drop you where you stand,” I growled.
Rex removed his hand from the club. His beady eyes glared at me. After he spits out the wad of tobacco on the ground, he angrily left in a huff.
I returned my Winchester to the sheath. We watched Rags go to the foreman. Ira suggested we should leave before more trouble came. We nodded in agreement. We nudged the horses into a trot.
