The Quiet One

The door opened revealing a man and woman and a small boy. There was relief on their faces and it was evident the boy probably around ten or eleven, had been reloading the guns for his parents. There was likely short time for introductions, the Apache would not wait long to resume their attack. “I’m Bill, the wife Mary, the boy Billy. We try and always be ready. Had plenty of ammunition, nothing much to attract the attention of hostiles here.” “Apache are mad at us whites right now, trappers have violated our treaty with them, they’ll go out of their way to kill, and those ponies of yours are all they needed to decide to attack. Their powwow won’t last long. Let’s get ready and when they come, take your time, take aim and fire when I say. We should be able to kill two or three more and with half of them dead I think they’ll figure this place is bad medicine and pull out.” There was no sign of the Indians. They had already gathered their dead. And though they appeared to have left; they were just waiting. With no further shooting from the cabin, they seemed to come out of the very ground at a run. “Now!” Three rifles barked and three Indians fell, two dead and one wounded. We gave them time, and within a half dozen turns of the second hand on my pocket watch, the Indians, both dead and alive were gone, only dust marking their horses’ departure. The husband reached out his hand, “Thanks, mister. You could not have come at a better time. How about we take time to clean things up and get some coffee going. You’re welcome to sit and eat.” “Let me go snake my way back to my horse and bring him back to water. Jack will come with me.” “I didn’t even know he was here.” Mary, wiping the sweat from her brow, said. Billy said, “I knew.” He said, “Boys and dogs; instant compadres. I’ll be right back.” Luckily the Indians were too focused on leaving with their wounded and dead to stick around. He was able to find Buck safe and tethered, and with Jack they made their way back to the cabin. The family had the place spruced up and coffee on the stove. Bill spoke, “So how did you happen along here? We don’t get many visitors.” “I am just a couple of days out of Morenci to the north. Left the cavalry a bit ago and tried freighting. But Morenci is beginning to head towards becoming a boom town. Town grows, so do stores and shipping, and following is the rough element. I guess some folk prefer stealing to working. I never was much on towns, so I took to trying my hand at bronc busting. I was heading down to Fort Bowie. I had an ole friend there. Wanted to look him up and see if the Army is in the market for a contract buster,” I replied. Bill interjected, “I’ve broken a few for the family, but I don’t cotton to doing it for others, even for money.” “I know what you mean, if you charged ‘per bruise,’ well a man could get rich, and . . . it doesn’t work out if you spend your money on a sawbones and your time healing,” he said. Bill said, “Is there a trick or two to help you come out on the top?” I told him, “Cheeking the horse helps, you know, pulling the strap just above the bit and pulling the horse’s head forward. It gives you a chance to get a good seat on the saddle and not get kicked. You keep the right rein in the normal spot and grasp the left by the cheek strap. You put your left foot in the stirrup and move up and down a bit. If the horse stands firm, get aboard, ready for a ride. And, of course, you can’t be afraid. The horse will sense it and try and break you.” “Well, it sounds good,” Bill replied, “but I’ll stick to just breaking my own, and getting blisters on my hands farming, and raising chickens and a steer or two, instead of bruises on my backside. With the creek full of catfish and hunting deer for extra food … I stay busy.” Billy spoke up, looking at him I guessed him to be around ten. “Mom cooks and cleans and teaches me from the McGuffy reader. I can do sums.” He smiled. “I help Pa with feeding the chickens and fishing a little.” Mary said, “He is a good boy and a big help.” Bill chimed in, “That he is.” “Family is a real blessing.” I said, “I was fortunate myself; my aunt and uncle raised me. They saw to it I got a good education. My uncle taught me to be a farrier and they turned to a friend in the Army so I got an education and commission as an officer. If a youngster has a caring family and can get a bit of an education, well, he has a better than average chance, with a bit of gumption, of doing well in life.” “Mary shared, “And religion, the Bible and prayer services help too, and knowing God..” “Yes ma’am, they do. In this country a person can find himself in a fix time to time. It’s a comfort to know he’s not alone. Well, I best be getting on. Thank you for the great meal.” They stood and Bill shook his hand. He shook Billy’s hand. Bill said, “If you ever get by this way, stop in and visit us, Williams.” “I’ll be sure and do that.” He put his hat on, and he and Jack went out to Buck. They waved and he returned it. And he and Jack and Buck set off for Fort Bowie, aware that those Indians may still be about.