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Pipe Springs

By: Pipe Springs



"If y'all won't respect your elders y'all will damn well respect your betters," Sam said with laughter. "That's me, Sam Bettors." 

He quickly and forcefully pulled his arms together in front of him and knocked the men's heads together. They fell unconscious to the floor. Sam bent over and picked up the man that he'd been holding down with his foot. Grabbing the man by the shirt collar with one hand and his belt with the other Sam marched him to the door. 

Throwing the man out the door Sam yelled, "Y'all don't come back until you know your place and learned some manners." Sam walked back to Riley to see how badly he was hurt.

The man returned from outside holding a pistol. "I'm gonna kill you old man," he yelled at Sam as he pointed his weapon.

A shot echoed in the room and the man fell to the floor. Clay hadn't hesitated when he saw his new friend in danger. He quickly drew and fired his pistol. The man was dead before he fell.

Sam looked over his shoulder in surprise. He hadn't had time to respond to the man's yell. "Damn boy, I didn't know you was a gun hand. Reckon it's a good thing for me that you know how to use that Remington," Sam said with a grin on his face.

"Mr. Johnson okay?" Clay asked as he came on into the room.

"I'm okay," Riley replied. "That one there," he said pointing to one of the men on the floor, "Hit me in the nose and I tripped over my own feet. Hit my head on the counter when I fell."

"Where'd you learn to handle a pistol like that," Riley asked.

"I worked for a couple of years for Creed Taylor down in Dewitt County Texas. He and his brother had a feud goin with a family named Sutton. Creed taught me how to use a gun so's I could protect myself. But when the shootin got real serious Creed ran me off. Said I wasn't part of it and made me leave."

"Well I'm real glad he did." Sam patted Clay's shoulder in thanks.

"What started the ruckus?" Clay asked.

"That one there," Sam said pointing to the dead man, "got all riled up. Said Riley was tryin to cheat them and started stealin things. That one," he said pointing to one of the unconscious men on the floor hit Riley." Sam paused for a moment and said, "That's when I jumped in."

"What'll we do with these fellars?" Clay said.

"Slit their throats and throw them into one of the canyons around here," Riley said. "Serves' em right."

"We can't just kill them," Clay objected.

"You squeamish boy?" Riley asked.

"No sir, I can stand up to killin in a fair fight if I have to but I can't shoot a helpless man. Maybe I could borrow a horse and go for the law," Clay suggested.

"Nearest law is over to St. George. That's better'n 60 miles just to get there," Riley explained. "Best to just dump em in a canyon."

"Tell you what Riley. Let's wake em up and scare the hell out of them. Then send em on their way," Sam suggested motioning toward Clay. He could see that Riley's idea bothered Clay. 

"They'll just come back on us," Riley protested. "Better to do it now." He saw Sam's motion toward Clay and added, "But you took em down Sam so if that's what you want to do, we'll do er."

They drug the two unconscious men outside along with the dead man. Sam threw a bucket of water in their faces and they begin to sputter and wake up. When they sat up and looked around they saw their companion lying next to them with a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

"That'll be you two, if we ever see you again," Sam told them pointing to the dead man. "Toss your guns away and stand up." Once the men complied with his orders Sam continued, "Now get on a horse and head out."

They walked to where their horses were tied and started to mount up.

"I said one horse. Y'all get one horse between you. You can take turns ridin or carry the horse on your backs but move on," Sam ordered.

"Those are our horses Mister," one of the men complained. "How do you expect us to make it out of here on one horse?"

Riley was standing in the doorway with a Winchester held in his arms. He raised the rifle and set the butt stock on his hip. "Were I you, I'd be glad for the one horse. If it was up to me you would never have got up off the floor. You can thank the youngster there that you're not buzzard bait. Now get before I decided to do things my way."

The two men left riding double.

"Hey Riley what should we do with this one?" Sam asked pushing at the dead man with the toe of his boot.

"There's a deep ravine about a hundred yards yonder," Riley replied. "Dump him off into that hole. Buzzards and varmints got to eat too you know."

"Okay. Give us a hand will ya." Sam said.

Riley shook his head and looked at Clay. "You kilt him, you bury him," he said and returned into the trading post.

Sam and Clay threw a rope around the man's feet and used his horse to drag him to the ravine. Once they got there Sam knelt and searched the man. He unfastened the gun belt and handed it to Clay. Continuing to search, Sam fished two Double Eagle gold coins out of the man's pocket and a tobacco pouch off his belt. Then he pushed the body over the edge and listened to it fall for over seventy feet.

Clay took the pistol from the holster and examined the weapon, cocking and releasing the hammer several times. "Whatever he was he wasn't just a cowboy," Clay remarked holding up the gun. "This is an almost new Colt Peacemaker in .44-40," he told Sam. Most cow hands can't afford a weapon like this."

"Most cowboys don't carry $40 in gold coins either," Sam agreed. Opening the tobacco pouch he took a sniff. "Most can't afford this good a tobacco." 

Sam handed Clay the gold coins. "Reckon the Colt and those coins rightfully belong to you," he said and with a smile added, "His horse too; but I'll hold on to the tobacco. And it's a favor I'm doin you; y'all too young for that vice."

Clay shook his head and in spite of the circumstances, laughed at Sam. He tossed one of the coins back to his friend. "Reckon I should share this with you since you were his target but I'll keep the Colt."

Sam nodded and smiled. "Tomorrow mornin early Riley will ride over to the ranch and see about a job for you. If they don't have a place for you I'll take you on to St. George with me."



Pipe Springs



Clay nodded touched by Riley's words about Sam. "Riley if y'all got a mind to, you can count me as a friend too."

Riley grinned. "Reckon we can do that Clay." He coughed and looked away. "Nough of this foolishness, let's get some whiskey."

"Did you get the job?" Sam asked as Riley and Clay rode up to the trading post. Clay nodded. "Reckon I'll be goin on to St. George by myself," Sam complained with a smile. 





Pipe Springs



"I'll be glad to get back to the fort and get something besides this to eat," Clay replied. "Been eatin nothin but beans, bacon, and beef jerky for the last three days."

After they finished eating, Rebecca used a clean cloth from the wagon to wipe the plates clean. Water was too scarce in this parched land to waste washing plates.

"The boys from the fort will be here by late afternoon and they'll have more food and water," Clay remarked as he watched her clean up. Suddenly Clay stood and looked to the south. Rebecca turned following his gaze.

"We got company comin. Get your rifle and get in the wagon Rebecca," Clay ordered. 

"Who are they?"

"Don't rightly know just yet," he answered. "Could be a couple of drifters just passin through. But ifin I start shootin you do too."

Clay walked over to Eli, told him about the incoming riders and handed the injured man his Colt. "If they get past me don't let em get to the wagon sir."

Eli pulled himself up to lean against a wagon wheel and cocked the Colt.

Clay walked out a few yards and leaned against a boulder with his Winchester cradled in his arms at the ready. Two riders topped a small rise and came into sight.

Not Indians, Clay thought. Maybe drifters like I said. He watched the two men carefully as they rode closer.

The riders stop about sixty feet away. "Got trouble, do ya?" One of the men asked, pointing to the broken down wagon.

Clay nodded and examined the two men. The one that spoke looked older and was the bigger of the two. The other man was much smaller and looked shifty to Clay. Looks like a weasel from back home, he thought.

"Lost a wheel yesterday. But I got people comin from Winsor Castle to help. Should be here anytime now," Clay bluffed. He had a bad feelin about the two men.

"Name's Slayton, this here's Hollister. We could help you put a new wheel on your wagon if you like."

"Don't have an extra with us," Clay lied. "Started out a little under equipped this trip, we did. We'll just wait for the boys to get here. But thank you kindly."

"Looks like you got an injured man up there under the wagon," Hollister said. "Maybe we could help."

"You don't look like a doctor Mister. I reckon we can get by." Clay stood from his spot against the boulder. "Now is there anything else I can do for you boys? If not I'll get back to my camp."

"Mister, we're hungry and ran out of water a spell back," Slayton said. "Could you spare a little of either?"

Clay's feeling of unrest deepened. He saw that they each had a canteen tied to their saddles. They haven't missed many meals either, he thought. They want somethin more than food and water.

"None to spare boys, sorry. Got about enough to get back to the fort." Clay paused. "Fort's about a half a day's ride to the east. I'm sure they can help you."

"The hell with this," Hollister swore, pulled at the piston on his hip, and spurred his horse toward Clay. Slayton turned his horse toward the wagon and kicked him into a gallop.

Clay calmly brought his Winchester up to his shoulder and shot Hollister out of the saddle. He didn't watch him fall but turned to get a bead on the other man. Slayton was about forty feet from the wagon when the bark of Clay's Colt rang out followed closely by the sharper sound of a rifle.

Slayton rolled over the rump of his horse and was still.

Walking over, Clay turned Hollister with the toe of his boot. The dead man had a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Clay took the man's pistol and searched his pockets. He didn't find anything and walked to Slayton, who was also dead. There were two bullet holes in his chest. Clay searched the dead man and ended up just taking the man's weapon.

"Reckon the Sanders know how to shoot," Clay said softly. He gathered up Hollister's horse, mounted and caught Slayton's horse. Clay rode back and tied the animals off with a long lead to the back of the wagon. 

"Good shootin folks," Clay told Eli and Rebecca. He took his Colt back from Sanders and reloaded.

"What will we do with them?" Eli asked.

"Not much to do," Clay answered. "See if they had anything worthwhile and let the varmints have em."

"Shouldn't we get a sheriff or marshal and report this?" Rebecca asked.

"Nearest law I know for sure is in St. George. That's better than 60 miles one way through hard country," Clay responded. "Don't aim to make that hard of a trip for the likes of them."

"We should at least bury them Mr. Boudreau," Rebecca said. "It's the Christian thing to do."

"They would have left you folks to rot if they'd got to you Miss Sanders," Clay replied with a hard tone. "But not before you entertained them. What is it the Good Book says? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? Well we did to them what they would have done to us. They can rot in Hell for my part."

Clay turned and went to look at the horses. He'd once felt the same way Rebecca did. This land will surely change your mind about some things, he told himself. Clay was talking with Eli when Rebecca came out of the wagon with a pick and shovel. She walked out away from the camp and started to dig.

"Becky, what are you doing?" Eli asked.

She stood and faced her father and Clay. "Just because these men were pigs doesn't mean I should get down and wallow in the mud with them. I'm going to bury them and say a prayer for them." 

Clay could see the tears in the corner of her eyes. "I don't know if Rebecca is crying because she mad at me or sad because she had to kill a man," he said aloud.

"Believe me Clay if she was mad at you there'd be no doubt in your mind," Eli said with a grin.

"Well...either way she's got a strong belief in what she sees as right," Clay replied. "Got to admire her for that." He watched Rebecca for a minute and said, "Reckon I'll go give her a hand; this ground sure is hard."

Rebecca looked up as Clay joined her. He grabbed the pick axe and started breaking the hard packed earth. She looked at Clay and smiled. Nodding her head she used the shovel to scoop up the loose soil. It took them close to an hour to dig two graves, roll the bodies into the holes, and cover the men. Rebecca bowed her head and quietly said a prayer. Clay looked off in the distance until she finished.

As they walked back toward the wagon Rebecca said, "That was the Christian thing to do for those men Clay. God bless you."

Clay stopped and turned to Rebecca, who halted when he did. "I didn't do it for them Rebecca, I did it for you. It seemed to mean a lot to you so I thought I'd give you a hand." He grinned wickedly and added, "As far as God goes, he could've had those two pass us by. No blessing there."

Back at the wagon Clay looked over the horses and rethought his plan. He'd hoped to put the new wheel on the wagon, hitch the horses up and go to meet the men coming from the fort. But the horses were saddle stock and in poor condition. But one will do to go see about the cattle, he said to himself.

He watered both animals and picked the strongest to go check on the cattle. The horse seemed to perk up after getting water and Clay rode off at a fast trot. He smiled as he came to the box canyon. Some of the more adventurous steers had begun to nose and push at the brush he had used to block the entrance to the canyon.

Clay drug the brush away from the entrance and started the cattle toward the Sanders' wagon. He knew the good grass at the foot of the butte near the wagon would hold the cattle for a spell. At least until the boys from the fort get here, he told himself.

He watched the small herd for about an hour after driving them to the grazing. None of them wanted to explore, they all stayed close. Clay rode back to the wagon, dismounted, and sat near Eli.

"Won't the cattle get away?" Eli asked.

"Nope. Don't think so," Clay said. "There's good grass yonder and most cattle would rather eat than walk around. I think they'll stay put."

"When do you expect your friends?" 

"Reckon just about any time," Clay replied. "Shouldn't have taken more than an hour to get on the trail once Jacob got there. Course if most of the hands were out workin the herd it might take a mite longer."

Clay rigged a pair of hobbles out of rope from the wagon and put the horses to graze on the good grass. Nothin to do now but wait, he thought.

"If you don't mind the tellin what brought you folks through Pipe Springs Eli?" Clay asked.

"Well, we're from Abilene Kansas originally," Eli answered. "I'm a blacksmith so I made a decent livin but the town had become a cow town with lots cowboys lettin off steam after the drives; place turned into a shooting gallery. My wife, Molly, had been sickly for quite a spell and died. After two more years of dodging bullets and drunken cow hands we decided to pick up stakes and move

Eli stopped as Rebecca sat down next to him. He coughed and cleared his throat. "After Molly passed our place didn't leave much besides bad memories so we decided to head west." Eli had been staring at the ground as he talked but now he looked up at Clay. "Get a new start in a new land."

Clay nodded his understanding because he'd been through something similar. 

"That was a bit more than two years ago," Eli continued. "Tried Colorado Springs for a spell; didn't much care for it. Moved down to Pueblo for a few months. Then a fellar I knew back in Abilene came into the smithy one day. We got to talkin and he told some tales about a little town called Visalia in the San Joaquin Valley California. I thought, why not and here we are."

"Why the San Joaquin Valley?"

"That's cattle country and there's always work for a blacksmith in cattle or farming areas," Eli answered. "Figured we'd give it a try and if we don't like it we can move on." He looked off in the distance for a few seconds. "Be nice if it worked out this time; I'm gettin tired of movin around."

Rebecca had been listening to Clay and her father. She looked off to the east. "Rider's coming," she said pointing to a dust cloud. You could see a rider's dust for miles on the flat plateau. 

Clay looked over his shoulder. "It's the boys from the fort. They're still an hour or so away." Turning back to Eli he said, "Sounds like a good idea to get a new start sir. We'll get you and your wagon fixed up and y'all can continue your journey as soon as you're fit." He stood, caught up a horse, and mounted.

"Reckon I'll go out and meet the boys," Clay said. "I'll have em come in from the south so they don't spook the cattle."

Two men on horseback from Pipe Springs led the way, following by two figures in a wagon. The two riders were cow hands that came to drive the cattle back to the ranch. John Williams, a jack of all trades for the fort, rode in the wagon pulled by four horses with two more on short leads trailing behind the wagon. He'd come to repair the broken wagon if possible. The figure sitting next to him surprised Clay but it shouldn't have. It was Jacob Sanders returning to his family.

"Howdy boys, Mr. Williams," Clay greeted the men. "It's good to see y'all. He rode to the right side of the wagon. "Didn't expect you to be with them Jacob."

"I couldn't leave Pa and Rebecca out here," the boy replied. Clay nodded his understanding.

Tom, one of the two hands, rode up to Clay as they rode into the Sander's camp. "Leave it to you to find a good lookin woman out here in the middle of nowhere," he said with a big grin. He turned toward Rebecca, touched the brim of his hat and said, "Howdy Miss."

Rebecca blushed and nodded returning Tom's greeting. "Thank you helping us. Thank you Mr. Williams," she added to the older man.

The other cowboy, Jim, said, "We can't let Clay here have all the fun. Might as well be out here as workin our tails off back to the fort. We'll get y'all back safe and sound Miss."

"Ifin we can get the wheel on that wagon we'll do her," Williams said. "If not we'll load their things into this wagon and head back. Either way we need to get on the trail."

"Why in such a hurry Mr. Williams?" Clay asked.

"There's been a couple of raids since you been gone Clay. I don't hanker to get caught out here away from the fort." William took off his hat and ran a hand through a great mane of dark, gray streaked hair. "I aim to keep my hair right where it is."

The two wranglers, Williams, and Clay used the long wagon tongue as a lever to get the axle high enough to put the new wheel on the Sanders' wagon. Four of the horses were hitched to the fully loaded, repaired wagon and with Clay driving they headed back to Pipe Springs. The two cowboys rounded up the cattle and pushed them toward the fort. Eli was resting on a pallet in the back of the wagon complaining that he could drive.

Rebecca shushed her father and rode next to Clay on the seat. Jacob decided to ride with John Williams; he found the big man stories about the Indians very interesting.

"You're not from around here are you Clay?" Rebecca asked. 

"No ma'am. Born and raised in Louisiana. Lived near Santa Fe before I got here."

"How'd you end up here? Oh sorry, I'm being nosey and it's none of my business." Rebecca blushed a little at her forwardness.

"No, I don't mind talkin about my travels," Clay answered smiling at Rebecca's embarrassment. "My Pa and me had a small place in Alexandria ........ For the next hour Clay told the young woman the story of his travels. How he left Louisiana and why, the people he met and worked for in Texas, and how he thought he'd found a home working in Santa Fe. 

"I was just gettin away from the carpetbaggers when I left Louisiana and I was headed for California when I left Santa Fe. Sorta fell into this job at Pipe Springs. Been a long and sometimes real interesting journey so far," Clay finished.

How long have you worked at Pipe Springs?" Rebecca was intrigued by this young cowboy. She'd seen his bravery dealing with the bandits and his gentleness in his actions with Jacob. 

"Been there going on six months or so. Mr. Winsor took a chance gave me a job so I reckon I'll stick around for a spell." Softly, too low for Rebecca to hear, he added, "Got no place else to go." 

"I guess you get along with the others at the ranch from the way these men greeted you," Rebecca said pointing at the two wranglers and Williams in the other wagon.

Clay nodded and smiled. "They can get ornery sometimes but they're good men. Yep, we get along just fine." Pointing to the other wagon he said, "Now Mr. Williams there is a different color horse." Clay laughed and shook his head. "He's just plain ornery all the time. Always complainin about how much work he has and how the younger men don't respect their elders, and how much he wishes he was back in Texas.

"Truth be told he's one of the hardest working men I've ever met. Always willing to help with your work if need be: course he complains the whole time. But you if asked someone else before him, he'd be upset. John just about runs the operation around the fort. Mr. Butler is the ramrod and Mr. Winsor is the boss but you'd never know it if you heard John yelling orders." 

"We met Mr. Winsor when we stopped for water and some supplies. He seems like a good man," Rebecca said. "Most of the people we had dealings with at the fort seemed to be nice people."

Clay nodded his head in agreement. "But like with any place you be, there's a few that can rankle you sometimes. You have to overlook them. Some of the Mormon ways are a little strange to a Louisiana boy but most are good people."

"Mormon's?" Rebecca paused and then added, "Well, Mr. Winsor and the others we met were kind people, whatever their beliefs," Rebecca said. 

The two young people were quiet for several minutes. Rebecca seemed lost in her thoughts. For his part Clay was nursing a feeling he'd never had before. He was hoping that the Sanders, and particularly Rebecca, stayed at Pipe Springs for a spell.

Finally Clay broke the silence. "To my way of thinkin, it's how folks treat other folks that says what kind of people they are. No matter what their beliefs, ifin they treat others fair that's all that counts."

Rebecca smiled. "That's very Christian of you Clay."

"Never did much church goin after Ma died, but the one thing I remember is the Golden Rule." Clay turned his head and looked at Rebecca sitting on the wagon seat next to him. "That 'do unto others' stuff seems like a good way to live your life."

Tom and Jim pushed the cattle a little harder, whooping and yelling, as the top turret of the fort came into view. Clay shook his head with a smile.

"We talked all the way back," he said pointing with his chin toward the fort. "Ain't talked that much in a long time." Clay smiled at Rebecca. "Sure did make the trip go faster though."

Mr. Winsor was waiting at one set of the big gates that guarded the entrance to the main courtyard. "I didn't expect to see you again Mr. Sanders," he said by way of greeting. "But you and your family are most welcome." Turning back toward the interior of the fort he called, "Come help Mr. Sanders to a bedroom on the first level please. We'll have our doctor look at him."

After Eli was safely transferred into a room, the 'doctor' examined Eli's broken leg. The doctor wasn't a real medical man, he was the man that treated sick cattle and horses; sort of a veterinarian. He replaced the wagon wheel spokes that Clay had used to splint the leg with smaller thinner pieces of wood and wrapped them with a large piece of cowhide.

"Stay off your feet for a week or so," he told Eli. "After that take er easy for a spell." The 'doctor' patted Eli on the shoulder and laughed. "If you were a horse we'd a shot you. But I don't reckon your daughter would like that." 

For the next month Eli did as he was told. The "doctor" brought him a crutch carved from a cedar tree. After a week staying inside the fort he started to walk short distances. His leg was healing and getting stronger so he increased the distances and the time that he walked. Eli was able to switch to a cane and it was easier for him to get around. Five weeks from the day he arrived back at the fort Eli went to see Mr. Winsor.

"I wanted to thank you and your people for taking care of me and my family Mr. Winsor," Eli said and shook the man's hand. "I'd like to do something to repay you for your help."

"We only did what was right Mr. Sanders. Wouldn't have felt good about myself if I hadn't extended our hospitality and assistance." Mr. Winsor gave Eli a slow grin. "Besides, Mr. Boudreau was quite adamant about helping you. Seems he's taken a shine to you and your family."

Eli grinned in return. "Yes sir, Clay pretty much saved our bacon when he found us out on the mesa. I know it's because he's a good lad but I think Rebecca might have something to do with his concern." Eli laughed a little and said, "It isn't the first time some young man has become interested in my daughter."

Mr. Winsor nodded. "Whatever his reasons, Clay was very forceful about helping you. He's a fine young man with a good head on his shoulders. I'm proud to have him with us here at the ranch."

"I might have figured out a way to repay you and your people a little Mr. Winsor," Eli said. "Who does your blacksmithing?"

"Mr. Thomas, from Fredonia, comes to us about every three weeks or so and does the repairs that we can't handle. Mr. Williams can shoe horses and does what repairs he can."

"That'd be John, who drove the wagon out to rescue us?" At Winsor's nod, Eli continued. "I'm a blacksmith by trade and I could do your repairs and such until I'm healed up. Right now I'd need a pair of hands and a strong back to help. Maybe John would be willing to give me a hand."

Winsor and Eli discussed the idea and decided that Eli would be the ranches' blacksmith for two months. That would allow Eli's leg to mend completely. At that point Eli could decide what he wanted to do. 




Pipe Springs



"If you want to stay I'm sure we can find a place for you at Pipe Springs," Winsor offered. 

Eli, Rebecca and Jacob were given one of the cabins just outside of the fort for living quarters. As Eli worked at his trade, Rebecca helped some of the women with their children. She also taught the younger ones their letters and how to do sums. Jacob tagged along after Clay most days when he wasn't helping his father at the smithy.

Clay was glad to hear that Rebecca would be staying for a spell. Over the next two months he made a point of talking to and seeing Rebecca as often as he could. Some of the other single men at the ranch had the same idea and Rebecca was very popular. 

Rebecca was polite with the men but didn't accept any of the offers for Sunday afternoon rides or picnics. Her interest had narrowed to one special cowboy, Clay. His kindness when they first met, his concern for Jacob and his easy going manner drew her to him. Clay was the one that she went on those afternoon rides and Sunday picnics with. Jacob accompanied them on most of the outings but a few times the young people were alone.

There wasn't anything special about their times together; just that they were together. They held hands and even had a kiss or two when they were alone as all young people do. Clay had been raised to be a gentleman and Rebecca to be a lady so the hand holding and few kisses were all that happened. A lot of their time was spent talking about their hopes, dreams, and goals. 

"You've come a long way from that drifter you told me about," Rebecca said on one of their rides. "Mr. Winsor was talking about you to Daddy. He said you were one of his best men. Said you had a future at Pipe Springs for as long as he runs the place."

"Mr. Winsor and the folks at the ranch have been good to me," Clay replied. "Reckon I'll stay put for a spell." He didn't notice the sad look that crossed Rebecca's face.

Clay was going to meet Mr. Winsor to discuss the herd on the far side of the ranch. Winsor thought that with the drought like conditions it would be better to have the cattle closer to the fort. As Clay approached the big gate into the fort he saw Rebecca trying to get past Jasper Young.

Jasper Young had come to Pipe Springs a couple of weeks earlier. He was about 30, tall and lean, and cocksure of himself. He's immediately started giving orders to the wranglers and other workers. No one paid much attention to him and that made him mad. Winsor told him that he'd have to earn the respect of the people at Pipe Springs before they would listen to him. It didn't set well with Jasper.

"You don't understand Rebecca," Jasper said as he grabbed her arm when she tried to step around him. "You could better yourself by marrying me. I'm related to...." he began to say.

"Take your hand off me Mr. Young," Rebecca ordered and she twisted her arm to dislodge his grip.

"Were I you, I'd listen to the lady," Clay said and grabbed Young's wrist. Neither Young nor Rebecca realized that Clay was there until he took hold of Young. Clay put more pressure on Jasper's wrist until the man released his hold on Rebecca. 

"Didn't your folks teach you manners?" Clay asked. "Most ladies don't like to be pawed at." He stepped between the two. "You might want to remember that Young. Specially with Miss Sanders here," Clay warned.

Jasper stepped back from the hard look on Clay's face. Rubbing his wrist he asked, "Do you know who I am, you damn cowboy?"

"You're the fellar that's about to be taught some manners by this damn cowboy," Clay replied with steel in his voice. "Step back and go about your business Young."

"I'm directly related to Brother Brigham Young," Jasper said with pride.

Clay gave him an empty look. "Who's Brigham Young?"

"He's the leader of our church and I'll have you thrown off this ranch for interfering with me."

"Well for a preacher he sure didn't teach you any manners, now did he?" Clay replied. "As far as running me off, Mr. Winsor hired me and he's the one that'd have to tell me to leave." He stepped closer to Young. "Leave the lady alone, Young," Clay warned. 

Ignoring Clay, he turned back to Rebecca Jasper said, "You could do yourself some good by marrying me Rebecca."

"And which number wife would she be?" Clay asked. "Your second or third?" He turned and took Rebecca by her elbow. "Let me walk you back to your cabin Miss Rebecca."

"Hold on there," Jasper ordered. "This ain't none of your concern."

Clay turned back to see the angry man standing with his hand close to his gun butt; Young's intent was obvious. "I'm makin it my concern. And if you draw that hog leg, I'll kill ya," Clay in a voice cold as the snows up in the mountains.

Jasper Young saw Clay's hard eyes and the way he stood with his hand close to his holstered Colt. For once, the young man made the right decision. He dropped his hand, turned and walked back into Winsor Castle. Walking away, he thought, that man would have killed me sure as hell.

As Clay walked Rebecca back to her cabin, she asked, "Would you have shot him?

Clay saw the concern on Rebecca's face and the tone in her voice. "Remember our talk about the Golden Rule? Yes em. If he'd drawn on me, I would have put him down." He took a breath and added, "This ain't Kansas, Miss Rebecca. Out here you have to face dangers y'all don't have there. Out here you have to ready to defend yourself or you might die. So yes, if Young tried for his gun, I would have shot him."

Rebecca could hear the conviction in Clay's voice and see the wistful almost sad look on his face at the sometimes cruel world he lived in. "What was that about being a second or third wife?" Rebecca asked. It was a question more to change the mood than for information

"You don't know about the Mormons?" Rebecca shook her head and Clay continued. "Men of the Mormon church are encouraged to have more than one wife. From what I've heard it's more like they're required to have two or three wives. The first wife is sorta the boss in the house; the second or third ones are more like the hired help. There's a fellar over to St. George that has four."

"You mean even if I was interested in Jasper, it wouldn't be just him and I?"

"Don't rightly know if he's already married, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be his only wife for the rest of his life," Clay replied. 

"Well he's going to have a long wait if he expects me to marry him," Rebecca said. "That pompous ass," she added in a low voice.

"Can you stay for a few minutes to talk?" Rebecca asked and Clay nodded. "Daddy is talking about going on to California pretty soon."

"I know," Clay replied. "Heard him talkin about it over to the blacksmiths. He's still talkin about Visalia in the San Joaquin Valley." He gave what was more of a snort than a laugh. "Hear him talk, it's the Promise Land."

"Daddy feels it is the Promise Land, at least for us. It will give us a chance to settle and have a normal life, Rebecca answered. 

The two young people talked for several more minutes and then Clay said good bye to Rebecca and returned to the fort for his meeting with Mr. Winsor. He noticed again how many new faces there were around the fort. All of the outlying cabins were in use, some by more than one family, and there were three wagons close by with families living in them. Sure is getting to be a popular place, he thought.

Winsor motioned for Clay to sit in one of the big chairs in the office when he walked in. Clay accepted a cup of coffee from his boss. For the next hour the men discussed the moving of two of the herds, the best place to move them, and when they would start. 

"Heard you had a run in with Jasper," Winsor said trying to hide a smile.

"Hope I didn't cause you any trouble Mr. Winsor, I mean him being related to the head man in your church and all." Clay got a hard look in his eye. "But I wasn't gonna let him make advances to Rebecca." He paused and asked, "Exactly who is this Brigham Young?"

"Brother Brigham is the head of our church," Winsor replied. "And a very important man." He smiled and added, "Don't worry about getting me in trouble. In spite of what Jasper said, he's not a direct relative of Brother Brigham; he's a third cousin twice removed. "

"I'm glad I didn't cause you any trouble," Clay repeated.

Winsor sat for a few seconds and said, "Robert Jackson, the range boss, is going back to Salt Lake City right after the roundup. That's in three months. I'm offering you his job." Winsor held up his hand as Clay started to respond.

"Our people go on missions for the church that last from two to six years. Robert's been here for six years and now it's time for him to return to Salt Lake. I think Pipe Springs needs a range boss that can keep things going the same way from year to year." Winsor smiled at Clay's reaction. 

"But I've only been here a few months," Clay replied. "And I'm not a member of your church." 

"You've done everything I've asked of you and more." Winsor smiled at the young man. "You take charge of cattle drives, you step in and help with the work on the fort and ponds and you're the first one to help with the work around the ranch, even though it's not your job. Your religious beliefs are your own business."

"What about some of the new men that have come to the ranch? Wouldn't one of them be a better choice?" Clay suggested. "I mean if they're here on a six year mission they'd be around for a spell."

Winsor didn't answer and was quiet for s bit. "Some of the families are here on their missions, but most of the newcomers are sort of on the run." He thought for a bit trying to decide if he should tell Clay the real reason for the increase in population.

"Clay as you've learned our church suggests and encourage our men to marry more than once," Winsor explained. "We feel it's a way to ensure good families, strengthen and grow our faith. Of course that is only part of our creed." Clay nodded his understanding. 

"Not everyone agrees with our beliefs. We came here from eastern states like New York, Illinois, and Nebraska just to name a few. In every place we've set up tabernacles or settled we've faced hatred and persecution. In fact the Federal government is actively against us; passing laws and regulations to make us conform to what they think is right. You understand so far Clay?" The young man nodded again.

"Brother Brigham led us to Utah and this area to escape the persecution and so we could continue our way of life." Winsor looked off into the distance through a window and sighed. "Now the government has become more vigilant against us; they've started to enforce their laws even out here. Most of the new families are like refuges; escaping from those laws. Some will be here for quite some time and others will move on shortly."

Winsor refilled Clay's cup. "I'm afraid our faith and way of life will be changed drastically over the next few years." He sighed again. "But back to the present. Will you take the job Mr. Boudreau?" 

Clay took a sip of his coffee and thought about what Mr. Winsor wanted to do. Two weeks earlier he would have jumped at the offer. It was more than he could have ever hoped for when he left Santa Fe. But that was two weeks ago. 

He'd been having supper with the Sander's one evening and Eli got to talking. Rebecca had joined her father and Clay on the stoop in front of the cabin after cleaning up the supper dishes. "Rebecca and I have just about decided to move on to California," Eli told Clay. "We've been her four months, my leg is pretty much healed and I feel we've paid our debt to Mr. Winsor."

It bothered Clay to hear that Rebecca would be leaving. He'd never come right out and said anything to her but he was beginning to love Rebecca.

Eli interrupted his thoughts. "Why don't you come with us Clay?" "You're good with stock and cattle and I'm sure you can find a place with us in the San Joaquin Valley."

Before Clay could answer Rebecca said, "Please come with us Clay. We would hate not seeing you again." Rebecca put her head down, hesitated and said softly, "Oh the heck with it." Looking up at Clay she added, "I would hate not seeing you again. I've come to look forward to spending time with you every day," she said with a special smile.

The young wrangler looked at Rebecca for several seconds. Reckon that was plain enough, he thought. I had planned on California when I left Santa Fe and I sure wouldn't like not seeing Rebecca again. I've got a real good job here but I could get work in California too. It's a lot to take in.

"When are you leaving?" Clay asked.

"End of the month at the latest," Eli said. "That'll be early April and we'll have to cross Death Valley, that's the hottest part of the desert, so we need to have it behind us before full summer hits. And we need to be over the Sierra Nevada Mountains before winter. Those mountains get a lot of snow and we don't need to get caught in a blizzard."

"Riley Johnson over to the tradin post," Clay looked at Eli to see if he knew Johnson. Eli nodded and Clay continued. "He's been all through that country. He said if he owned Hell and Death Valley, he'd live in Hell and rent out Death Valley."

Eli laughed. "Then I reckon we need to get through it rite quick. The earlier the better."

"I know it's a lot to ask you to leave Pipe Springs," Rebecca said. "Will you at least think about it?"

Clay nodded and stood to leave. "I'll think hard on it Rebecca. See y'all tomorrow."

Now in Winsor's office Clay had a big decision to make. "Can I sleep on the offer Mr. Winsor?"

"By all means, Clay. Take a day or two and let me know your decision."

It didn't take Clay a day or two to make up his mind. The next morning he went to see Mr. Winsor. "I reckon I'll have to say no to your offer sir. I plan on leavin at the end of the month."

"So you're headed out with the Sanders are you?" Winsor said. It was a statement and not a question. "Guess I should have seen that coming, what with the way you've been squiring Miss Sanders around." He offered Clay his hand. "Good luck to you son. I hope you find what you're looking for."

Clay nodded his thanks and went to find Rebecca. He motioned for her to join him at the well as she finished the morning reading class. 

"Rebecca, I've decided to come to California with y'all," Clay told her. She smiled and started to respond. He held up his hand to stop her. "I'm only comin with you for one reason." He hesitated and said, "I'm in love with you Rebecca and want to marry you. Ifin you don't feel the same way, I reckon I'll stay at Pipe Springs."

A smile as big as the Grand Canyon broke across Rebecca's face. She took Clay's hand and replied, "Of course I feel the same way. I've just been waiting for you to say something to me." She giggled at the look on Clay's face. 

Rebecca and Clay went to see Eli. He looked up as they walked into the blacksmith shop where he was working. Eli put down his hammer and stuck the metal he'd been working on back into the fire.

"So are you gonna get married before we leave or wait until we get to California?" He asked and laughed at their red faces.





Pipe Springs



"Sam, Riley, if y'all decide to come west, look us up," Clay said. "You're always welcome at my campfire." As Clay helped Rebecca onto the seat of the wagon next to her father he thought he saw tears in Sam's eyes. Must be a trick of the light, he thought with a smile.

Clay mounted Puuku. "Lead us out Jacob," he ordered. Turning in his saddle he said, "Come see us. Be something new for you Riley, and Sam you'll get old just driving your team on the same route month after month. We'll be in Visalia in the San Joaquin valley if you've a mind to join us." 

The End