McCullough's Legacy - Softcover

Watzek, Andrew C.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1490744029 ISBN 13: 9781490744025

Publisher: Trafford, 2014

Synopsis

After avenging the death of their father, the McCullough girls are left alone to run their cattle ranch. In order to keep their ranch alive, they must drive their herd to market in Kansas. They hire an old Buffalo Soldier named Buford Riley, nicknamed Bo, as their ramrod. Among the many perils on the trail was a family that had been beaten and murdered. There was one surviving member, a young girl that had been beaten, raped, and left for dead. The girls rescue her and nurse her back to health. She becomes as close as the sister they lost in the fight with their father's murderers. A chance meeting with one of the men that left the young girl for dead results in a fierce and costly gun battle at the end of their drive.

About this title

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

McCullough's Legacy

By Andrew C. Watzek, Michael McIrvin

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2014 Andrew C. Watzek
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-4402-5

Contents

Prologue, ix, 
Chapter 1 Starting Over, 1, 
Chapter 2 The Employment Line, 8, 
Chapter 3 The Plan, 17, 
Chapter 4 Catchin' Horses, 28, 
Chapter 5 Luck Changes, 43, 
Chapter 6 A New Hand, 56, 
Chapter 7 The Sale, 75, 
Chapter 8 The Next Step, 96, 
Chapter 9 The Long Winter, 109, 
Chapter 10 The Partnership, 127, 
Chapter 11 Christmas at the Ranch, 142, 
Chapter 12 Hirin' Time, 164, 
Chapter 13 The Roundup, 183, 
Chapter 14 The Drive Begins, 199, 
Chapter 15 A New Addition, 221, 
Chapter 16 Halfway There, 231, 
Chapter 17 The Last Leg, 243, 
Chapter 18 The Trail's End, 257, 
Chapter 19 Ambushed, 277, 
Chapter 20 The Long Ride Home, 295, 

CHAPTER 1

Starting Over

Sara sat on the front porch, drinking her coffee and watching the sun come up over the ridge—a ritual she and her sisters often shared with their father before his death. As she stared at the horizon, the front door opened and Angela stepped out to join her.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Rosebud?" she asked.

"Oh, not too much. I was just rememberin' the plans we were makin' before Papa died."

"You mean about driving the cattle to Abilene and sellin' 'em."

"Yep."

"You think we can make that drive without Papa and Hawk?"

"Reckon we'll have to if we're gonna keep this place going."

The door opened again, and Julie came out onto the porch, dressed in her robe and holding her coffee cup. "You two make a lotta racket in the morning. I had plans to sleep in today."

"You always have plans to sleep in," Sara replied.

"Well, now that you two have ruined that, what are we talkin' about?"

"Sara wants to drive the cattle to market," Angela said.

"I reckon that's the only way we're gonna survive out here, but you got any idea how to get this thing started?"

"No, but I know we can't do it by ourselves, and that's a fact."

"Maybe we should talk to one of the other ranchers, like Mr. Reardon, and ask him how we go about this," Angela suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Julie said.

"I think you're right. After breakfast, we'll take a ride over there and see if we can get some advice from him," Sara replied.

After the girls had breakfast and cleaned up their mess, they saddled their horses. They had met Mr. Reardon only a few times before and weren't sure if he would even be willing to talk to them, much less help them out, but he had one of the largest spreads in the area and would no doubt have more experience than other ranchers they knew around these parts. They also reasoned that Mr. Reardon, who was also getting on in years, would have knowledge of the best trails to follow and how long it might take. If he would take the time to talk to them, he would be the best source of information.

"Do you think he'll help us out?" Julie asked as the three girls rode out of the yard and headed for the Reardon place.

"I ain't even sure if he's alive anymore or if he's at home if he is, but I reckon we'll know soon enough," Sara said.

As the girls rode through the gate at the Reardon ranch a few hours later, they were impressed with the size and beauty of the main ranch house. There were also a bunkhouse, tack room, breaking corrals, holding pens, two barns, and a smokehouse. Flowers and trees decorated the front yard, and people were moving around everywhere.

"You reckon we could ever have somethin' like this?" Angela asked.

"In time, with some luck and good decisions, I reckon it's possible," Sara replied.

The girls tied their horses to a hitching rail in front of the main house. As they walked up the front steps to the porch, they noticed Mr. Reardon looking out the window. They each drew a deep breath, and then Sara knocked on the door. Mr. Reardon opened it and greeted them with a smile.

"I'm guessin' you're Mac's daughters."

"We sure are, Mr. Reardon. My name is Sara, and this is Julie. That's Angela over there. We call her Little Bit."

"Little Bit ... Jesus, you must be six foot at least."

"Close enough, I reckon," Angela replied.

Mr. Reardon turned to Sara. "I seem to remember your pa introducing you as Rosebud."

"Yes, sir. That's what he used to call me. I reckon it stuck. We were hopin' you might have time to give us some advice about drivin' our cattle to market."

"Why don't you girls come in, and we'll sit a spell. You-all have grown up a bunch since I seen you last. You're right handsome fillies. I was sorry to hear about your pa. I wasn't around when the funeral took place, but I want you to know I've since paid my respects. He was a good man. None better."

"Thank you, sir," Julie said.

"Why don't you girls just call me Abe? Now what is it I can do for you?"

"Well, sir, we need to get our cattle to market if we have any chance of keepin' our ranch, but without Papa and Hawk, we have no idea how to go about it. We were hopin' you might be able to put us on the right track," Sara responded.

"Why don't you girls have a seat at the table, and we'll talk about it. Can I get you some coffee?" Mr. Reardon asked as the girls took chairs at an enormous oak table.

"No thanks. We're about all coffee'd out this mornin'," Sara said.

Mr. Reardon joined them, taking a seat at the head of the table, with the three girls all on his left. "Now I'm sure you know that the trail drive alone is gonna be one of the hardest things you'll ever do. You'll be stormed on, choked half to death on dust, and half drowned crossin' the rivers, maybe even struck by lightning. You're gonna have rustlers and thieves to deal with, as well as starvin' Indians who might try to pinch a few head. That's just for starters."

"We ain't afraid of the hard work. We just don't know how to get started," Angela replied.

"I ain't doubtin' your sand, and that's for sure. I heard about what you did to those men who killed your father—and I'm sorry for the loss of your sister and Hawk in that mess. But this is gonna take a different kind of grit. You girls can't make this drive by yourselves. You're gonna need to hire men, tough and trail-wise men, who ain't gonna take to being ordered around by girls, let alone girls with no experience."

"I reckon we never gave much thought to that," Sara said.

"Well, you better. If you don't find a man to run this drive and give him the reins, you may never get those cattle to market."

"Would you know anybody like that, Abe?" Julie asked.

"I'm afraid not. At least nobody around here. How many head do you have?"

"Near as we can figure, about 850," Sara answered.

"Not exactly a big drive, but a goodly amount for your first time. I need to get over a thousand to market myself next year, and I'm gettin' too old to go on any more drives and so I'll need to hire more hands myself. Why don't you put an advertisement in some of the papers around the territory and see what you can come up with for a ramrod? You find some good men, and maybe we could combine the herds next year and drive them to Kansas. How does that suit ya?"

"That's way more help than we expected," Sara said.

"I got a great deal of respect for you girls and what you did. I don't know many men who could have done that. I figure I owe it to you for your bravery and your losses. This country needs people like you, and so I'll give you all the help I can."

"We're much obliged, and we'll get an ad out as soon as we can."

"You be sure to put in that ad that these men will be ridin' for a ranch run by women. They might get awful testy if they ride real far and find that out later. And don't be disappointed if you don't get many responses. Like I told you, men don't like takin' orders from women."

"We'll do like you said, and we want to thank ya for all your help. I reckon we got a lot more work ahead of us than we figured."

"You can count on that."

"How will we know we can trust the men we hire?" Angela asked.

"You'll have to rely on your instincts," the old man answered, scratching his day-old beard and looking pensive. "Take to heart all that your pa and Hawk taught you and always look these men right square in the eye. If they keep lookin' back atcha without a wanderin' gaze, then chances are they're sincere. Any man who doesn't look you in the eye is either lyin' or he's got somethin' else on his mind. Either way, he's not to be trusted."

"We want to thank ya again for all your help, Abe. We sure weren't expectin' to find this much hospitality, us sorta bein' competitors and all," Julie said.

Abe laughed, "Competitors, hell. Girl, this country needs more beef than we could supply in ten lifetimes. It's 1889, and this country is bustin' at the seams and gettin' bigger every day. There's no competition between us. We can make a good livin' and not interfere with each other's operations or anyone else's for that matter. You find you a ramrod, and we'll do business next spring."

The girls stood from the table and thanked Abe again. He shook each girl's hand in turn as they stepped out onto the porch. Then the girls said their good-byes and headed back to their ranch.

Along the way, they discussed when they would put the ad in the papers and what papers they would put it in. Unfortunately, they didn't know the names of any papers in other towns, so they would have to talk to Mr. Blake, who wrote and printed the Elkhorn Bugle, about the best places for their ad. The first task would be to go home and write it out.

When the girls arrived home, they sat down at the kitchen table to put pencil to paper. Sara and her sisters sat there for almost an hour, discussing and arguing over how the ad should read. Ultimately, they decided it would be best if they had Mr. Blake help them with the ad. They were worried that if the ad were not written properly, it would sound as if the girls were desperate to have men show up to a ranch run by women, and they did not want anyone to get the wrong idea. They wanted men to show up to work, not to show up at a ranch they thought might really be a brothel.

The girls rode into town and met with Mr. Blake, who agreed with their concerns, and within just a short time, he had written out an ad worthy of their intentions.

"So you girls are gonna go on a cattle drive next spring, eh?" he asked.

"That's our intent," Sara replied.

"I've known you girls for most all your lives, and like everybody else in town, I heard what you did last year, but a cattle drive is a whole different box of apples from what you're used to."

"So we've been told. Mr. Reardon told us he would help us out and maybe combine his herd with ours when we drive them to market," Julie said.

"Well, you'd be in good company there for sure. But it still takes a heap of preparation before you even get started. And that preparation is going to take a fair amount of cash as well. Any ideas on how you're gonna pay these men who show up to work? Most may not be able to wait almost a year before they see any pay."

"I reckon that's somethin' else we ain't thought much about," Angela said.

"Well, you best give that some consideration before we send out this ad. Most outfits pay a dollar a day plus room and board. If you hire three or four men to help out before the drive actually starts, that's gonna cost you up to $120 a month for some six months. You-all got that kinda money right now?"

"No, sir. We sure ain't," Sara said. "We could maybe hire one fella right now and do the rest of the work ourselves."

"Then perhaps we better reword your ad to just hiring one man for now and the rest later. We'll advertise for a foreman or a ramrod this time around and see what shakes out. We can send out another ad later on as the drive gets closer. How does that suit ya?"

"That would be just fine, Mr. Blake, and we want to thank ya for your help. This drive is already shapin' up to be more than we figured, but we're determined to make a go of it," Sara replied.

"You girls got gumption. That's for sure. I'm confident you'll do just fine."

Mr. Blake told them that he would get the ad out the next day and they should receive some responses by telegraph in two or three days. That is, if there were any. The girls thanked him again and rode back to the ranch.

Along the way, they talked about how even hiring just one man would deplete their funds within six or seven months. They decided that it would be best if Sara, who worked in the general store, and Julie, who worked in the dress shop, kept their jobs in town. Angela would do her best to keep up the ranch. This would keep them in eating money and give the cookie jar a little boost. Although Sara and Julie weren't working every day, they would be able to make enough to grow the bank account so they could pay one man and the bills.

CHAPTER 2

The Employment Line

Sara and her sisters spent the next week or so working around the ranch and checking the telegraph office every time they went into town. Sara and Julie checked when they went to work in town, and Angela checked when she went for supplies. Thus far they had no replies to their ad, and they were beginning to get discouraged, but they remembered what both Mr. Reardon and Mr. Blake had told them. Responses may be far and few between.

A few days later, Angela was feeding the horses late one afternoon and about to go inside to start cooking supper when she saw two men she did not recognize coming up the road. She thought they might be there in answer to their ad. As the men drew closer, Angela crossed the porch, reached inside the door, and grabbed her rifle. She leaned it up against the door and waited to greet the men. The two men rode into the yard and asked if they could get down.

"Climb down off your horses, and welcome," Angela said.

The two dismounted and tied their mounts to the rail. As they walked to the porch, Angela kept her eye on them and made sure the rifle was in reach.

"What can I do for ya?" she asked.

"Well, missy, my name is Harvey Banks, and this here is my partner Fred Dooley. We heard you might be lookin' for some men to make a cattle drive next spring. Thought we'd apply for the job."

The two men were covered in trail dust, and both looked hungry to Angela. "We're lookin' for men, but right now we can't afford no more than one man."

"We heard that this place is run by women. You said `we.' Are there others around or is it just you?" Harvey asked.

"Me and my sisters own this place," Angela said. She did not like the question or the tone with which it was asked. She took a half step toward her rifle.

"Your sisters as pretty as you?" Fred asked.

Angela hesitated before she responded to the question. She watched as the men kept looking around the place as if taking in all they could about the layout. She remembered what Abe Reardon had told her about men who didn't look her in the eye. She moved a little closer to her rifle.

"Like I said, we can only afford one man right now. The paper should have said that."

"Hell, it may have, missy, but neither one of us can read. We heard some talk about this job over in New River. I'll tell you what. If your sisters are as pretty as you, then you can have us both for the price of one," Harvey said.

Angela decided that she had had just about enough of these men eyeing their ranch like a ripe apple, and of these men in general, and reached for her rifle.

"I don't think you fellas are quite what we're lookin' for. I think it's time you went on your way."

"Now listen here, missy. There's no reason to be pointin' a rifle at us. We rode a long way to see you, and I think you should at least invite us to supper. Besides, you don't look like any one to be shootin' a man. Now why don't you just put that rifle down, and we'll go inside and wait on them sisters of yours," Fred said.

As he spoke, he took a step in front of Harvey, blocking Angela's view of him. Harvey drew his pistol and waited for Fred to step clear. When he did, Angela saw the pistol pointed at her and knew she had made a mistake.

"Like Fred here said, missy, you don't look like anyone to be killin' a man and so you just put the rifle down and let's go inside."

"You wouldn't be the first son of a bitch I ever killed, mister. So if you don't want to die on this porch, you better holster that hog leg and ride out."

"You can't get us both without dyin' yourself, missy."

Fred was answered by the sound of shells being chambered in two rifles coming from behind the porch. The two men turned to see Sara and Julie stepping around the corner, both with rifles pointed at their heads.

"She may not be able to get you both, but you can damn sure bet we will, mister," Sara said.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from McCullough's Legacy by Andrew C. Watzek, Michael McIrvin. Copyright © 2014 Andrew C. Watzek. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: Trafford
• Publication date: 2014
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 1490744029
• ISBN 13: 9781490744025
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 318