Trails WestChapter 8
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Trails WestChapter 3 free porn video
“Trail To Carson City, Nevada”
Jeremiah pulled out his map to check the distance to Carson City from Ellsworth. He knew the only way he’d ever make Carson City before October, was by train. He’d never ridden a train, and he wasn’t sure if his horse would stay aboard a train, once loaded ... If in fact he was able to load him. Then, he remembered how Pete Musselwhite had gotten close to Outlaw.
He paid for his breakfast and that of his two deputies, then he went straight to the kitchen in hopes of finding some lumpy sugar.
“Marshal, do you mean a sack of sugar that’s been wet and is now solid as a rock?”
“Well, if you have some like you just mentioned, I’d like to have a look. It may be just what I need.”
“I got to tell you, you’ll have to hammer off a portion, to sweeten your coffee.”
Leaving the hotel kitchen with a brick-size lump of sugar inside a drawstring coffee bean sack, Jeremiah headed straight to his room. He wasn’t long in packing – he’d never fully unpacked since leaving the Kearse home the last time.
At the depot, he inquired at the ticket window about a cattle car for his horse and asked if he’d have plenty of hay, and be watered at least twice a day on the two day trip out to Nevada.
“Marshal, we do have one cattle car already spoken for by a young couple. They’re going all the way through to Carson City, same as you. The young couple is out there now, dickering with the engineer, the conductor and the brakeman as to how many times they’ll stop and water the two horses they got. If you’ll step out there and lend your argument to the matter, I’m sure your horse and theirs too, will have plenty of hay and water along the way.”
Jeremiah had his saddle slung over his left shoulder, with his left hand raised, gripping the saddle horn. His bedroll was under his right arm, with his saddlebags draped over his arm. His Winchester was balanced in his right hand. He walked out onto the loading dock where the young couple and the train crew were having a heated discussion. The young couple, and the men in the train crew turned to watch the tall lanky deputy walk toward them. None of them spoke, watching as he walked toward them in his slow, deliberate saunter.
Though Wild Bill Hickok would never know – he had made a lasting impression on young Jeremiah Trail. Not only was Jeremiah letting his hair grow long, to hang loose and free, he was on his way to having a trademark Longhorn mustache shaped like Wild Bill Hickok’s. Though he wore the tough canvas pants the Texas drovers preferred, he now wore buckskin shirts, made right here in the Ellsworth Leather Shop, where Wild Bill was given credit for creating the design.
As they stood with mouths agape, he spoke, “The agent told me I’d have to see you men about loading my horse in that cattle car. We’re headed to Carson City, Nevada and I’ll expect him to have plenty of hay and water along the way.”
Jeremiah made sure his brass star was visible as he spoke. He’d already learned that his badge commanded attention from most folks, the good and the bad.
“Yes Sir, Deputy. This young couple is here now to make arrangements for their horses to travel through to Carson City. Since you’ll be traveling on our train too, we’ll make sure your horse and theirs are well cared for,” the engineer told him, then glanced at the young man and woman, nodding as if letting them know too, that their horses would be cared for as well.
“Then if you’ll slide that door back about four foot, I’ll bring him on up.”
Jeremiah turned to the young couple and spoke to the man, “Mister, you and your wife may need to step down from the loading platform. There’s no telling what that horse of mine will try. He’s a full fledged Outlaw and he’s never been close to a train. But then, I’ve never ridden one either.”
Dropping his saddle, then throwing his bedroll on top of it, he leaned his rifle across his gear. He turned to step off the loading dock onto the ground, and as he walked away, the young man spoke to his back, “Uh, we’re not, uh ... This is not ... my wife ... She’s my sister.”
“Sir, I’m afraid the deputy was too far away to hear you. You and your sister would be safer if you’d do as he asked. If he has a truly outlaw horse, you could be in danger. If you’ll go ahead and board the passenger coach, we’ll see to it that your horses are cared for as well as the deputy’s horse.” The engineer informed them.
Using the trick he’d learned from Pete Musselwhite, Jeremiah not only coaxed Outlaw into the cattle car – that very lump of sugar would eventually lead them to become best friends. From this day forward, the tall, blaze face black horse he called, Outlaw, would come to Jeremiah and beg pitifully for a lump of sugar as he nudged his coat, shirt or arm, licking his hand if he held it out.
For this fourteen hundred mile trip, Jeremiah had purchased a fare which included two sleeper berths, upper and lower. He wasn’t about to stow his saddle and gear back in the baggage car.
Following the black porter, he made his way to the sleeper, carrying his saddle, rifle and gear. Hearing someone speak behind him, he looked over his shoulder to see the young man and woman he’d seen earlier on the dock. They were carrying their baggage and it looked as if they were bringing their entire family belongings on their trip west.
He stowed his saddle, rifle and gear in the top berth, then laid his saddlebags in the lower berth before pulling the curtain closed.
The young woman was having a hard time lifting one of her bags into the top berth. Jeremiah reached out and shoved it up into the berth. She looked at him as if she was shocked.
“I could have gotten my baggage into the berth, but thank you just the same.”
She spoke with a different accent than Jeremiah. He’d never been around many people from other countries, living his entire life in Dakota Territory. He did recognize the Irish accent, having met a few Irish prospectors in the Black Hills, looking to strike it rich as they panned for gold.
“Are you and your husband from Ireland?” he asked as they stood in the narrow passageway.
“Yes, we’re from Ireland ... But he’s my twin brother, Ryan, not my husband. I’m Kellyanne Leigh Corcoran, by the way. Did you say you were also traveling to Carson City?”
“Deputy US Marshal Jeremiah Trail here, Miss Corcoran. Pleased to meet you ... And yes, I’ve been assigned to Washoe County to help in the disputes between the miners, ranchers, and the Indians who live in the mountains nearby.”
The young woman’s brother had yet to speak, but he was paying close attention to their conversation. Once they had their baggage stowed, he stood and looked at Jeremiah, as if seeing him for the first time.
“Marshal Trail, I’m Ryan Corcoran, Kellyanne’s brother. I’m pleased to meet you. Would you like to join us for some tea in the dining car?”
“Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Corcoran. I’d like very much to join you and your sister in the dining car. Seems that we’ll be on this train for the best part of two days.”
“That’s what they told us, too. Will it actually take that long?”
“With all the stops, we’ll be lucky to make thirty-five miles an hour, averaged over a day. That’s what they told me when I paid for my ticket.”
“Were you raised in Ellsworth, Kansas, Mr. Trail?” Kellyanne asked as they sat at a table in the diner car.
“No, and call me Jeremiah. I’m not much older than you and your brother.”
“So, Jeremiah, tell us where you were raised. This is our first trip to America. We were born in Ireland.”
“I was born in Yankton, Dakota Territory, but I spent a lot of my years up in Watertown, Dakota Territory. That’s where I received my training to become a deputy marshal.”
“This land is so huge and majestic, I would be lost if I was told to travel to Dakota Territory. Isn’t that where most of the Indians live?” she asked.
“There are Indian reservations scattered all over. But yes, the Sioux live up in Dakota Territory on their lands.”
“Did you ever meet them?” Ryan asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have many friends among the Sioux. I bought my horse from the Lakota Sioux.”
“Were you able to learn the language?” Kellyanne asked and Jeremiah saw Ryan shoot his sister a quick glance.”
“I’ve learned some. Enough to make a horse trade, and then, well enough to remain friends with them afterward.”
Ryan asked, “If you learn one Indian language, will that help you to learn another?”
“Just according to which tribe it is and who the Indian is you’re talking to. Some of the words are close enough that a man who knows one language, can talk with an Indian who knows more than his tribe’s language, by using like-words and a few signs...
“Do either of you have plans to learn an Indian language?”
“We would like to learn some Paiute words and maybe Shoshoni, too, if we could,” Ryan answered.
“Jeremiah, could we trust you to help us? Since you’re a lawman, that is?” Kellyanne asked.
“Trust me to help you with what? As long as it’s not against the law, I’ll try my best to help.”
Ryan asked before Kellyanne could answer, “What tribes will there be in Nevada?”
“There are Bannock, Shoshoni, Utes, Navajo, Paiutes and maybe a few others scattered about.”
“How did you learn all about the Indians and where they live?” Kellyanne asked.
“I had a teacher who knew all about the tribes, where they were from originally, then where they were moved to later ... Are you going to tell me what the deal is with the Indian tribes in Nevada?”
“Jeremiah, could we get the porter to move us back to that last table where there’s no one close by? Kellyanne and I have something to ask of you and we need to be as discreet as possible.”
“Sure, as long as it’s within the law, I’ll help you anyway I can.”
They were seated and the porter had walked away, when Kellyanne looked around before she began to speak just above a soft whisper, “Jeremiah, our father and mother have been separated for years, even before he came to America ten years ago to stake his claim on a parcel of land ... then purchase even more land there in Nevada. He has kept in touch with Ryan and me by mail over the years. Then, last year I received a letter from him stating that he needed us to come to America to help him with an important discovery on his land. Mother wouldn’t let us come until we were eighteen. But, three months before we were to leave Ireland, Mother disappeared and we’ve not heard from her since. We had already made arrangements for travel, with our passages booked on the steamer.”
She stopped, looking around again, before continuing, “In his last packet he sent to me, Father enclosed a map. By researching some accounts of Meriweather Lewis’ and William Clark’s journals, we have discovered the words describing the details of the map are written in an American Indian language, and we cannot decipher it. We were afraid to show this to anyone, because Ryan has discovered a word he swears is moon, and another he thinks may be silver. This is not an Indian language we can find and we’re stumped.”
“With your finger, make the letters on the table for moon.”
He watched as she made the letters, H-A-N-W-I. Then she and Ryan both looked at him.
“That’s Lakota Sioux,” he whispered, then, “Show me silver.”
She made the letters, M-A-Z-A S-K-A.
“That’s Lakota also. Was that all you were able to make out?” he leaned closer and whispered.
“No, there is one more I remember, but we’re not sure about this one.”
“Show me with your finger.”
He watched as she made the letters, O-S-M-A-K-A.
Jeremiah reached over to pull Ryan close by his shirt front as he leaned close to Kellyanne. “Does Silver Moon Canyon, mean anything to either of you?”
As he looked from sister to brother, he saw a smile begin to broaden both their faces.
“That’s the name of our Father’s Ranch!” Ryan told him.
“Jeremiah, will you meet with us and try to translate the rest of this? Do you have any idea how Father may have had this map’s description written in Lakota Sioux, and not one of the local tribe’s language?”
“Sometimes, Indians will travel great distances. Especially an old Indian man who likes to wander. It would not be impossible that your father would have a Lakota Sioux on his ranch...
“I was told we’d have a two hour stopover in Denver. If we could meet some place other than this train, I’d be glad to see what else we can learn from your map. That is, if you trust me. You’ll need to be careful who you talk to about this or show your map to. Your map could be just a map of your father’s ranch, but there’s a possibility this could be a treasure map, since someone went to the trouble of writing the descriptions in Lakota Sioux.”
“That was our thoughts exactly, Jeremiah. Ryan and I already trust you. You’re a Deputy US Marshal, you have an honest face and you have an easy, friendly smile ... when you smile, that is,” Kellyanne told him, then shot a quick smile his way.
Jeremiah made no response to her comments. He was having a hard time as it was, trying to keep from staring at her as she and her brother talked about their father, his ranch, their past, and their mother. She and Ryan had both been blessed with thick manes of red hair.
Ryan’s face and neck are ruddy, covered in freckles. Kellyanne’s face and neck are the color of cream, unblemished and pure. Her eyes are green and piercing, her lashes long and dark. Her attire alone, gives the impression of wealth.
Their train pulled into the station in Denver a few minutes after 6:00 pm. They were assured by both the porter and the conductor, that their possessions would be perfectly safe if they left them in their berths.
Following directions, they made their way to the cafe where they were told tea was served, since they didn’t serve tea onboard the train. They were seated near the front glass as the waitress brought their tea.
Jeremiah had never drunk tea before. Tea was a luxury of which most Dakotans never indulged. He’d always drank coffee, but at Kellyanne’s insistence, he agreed to try it. She and Ryan sipped their steaming hot tea with a spot of cream.
He’d always drunk his coffee straight and black, and now he sipped the hot, strong tea the same way. He was pleasantly surprised at the taste. Though it wasn’t coffee, and not something he’d give up coffee for, he enjoyed his tea as they talked.
They carefully avoided mentioning the map since the place was crowded, but they talked about the Indians and the different languages.
Seated a short distance across the cafe from them, was a man who looked totally out of place to Jeremiah. He noticed the man’s boots. They were polished and the heels were flat. Not something a Colorado rancher would wear, for sure. The man was wearing a bowler and a three piece suit. Each piece of his attire, looked new, as if he just purchased them – one piece at a time.
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