Lilli Stone

32

"Looks like you all ran into trouble." I offered quietly.

"Sure enough, ma'am. More and more folks been comin' out west, fillin' up what used to be wide open space. Me an' these boys here, we was part of a group of wagons on their way to a better life, an' we was set upon and cut down. The Sioux are just plain mad an' on the warpath. We got away, but the wagons were lost, and some good people died, hardworking, decent folk.

"We grabbed what we could and lit out, running like our tails were on fire, and I don't regret that for an instant. I'm alive now, and that's mighty important to me. Once we got close, I recalled you used to live here, and I only hoped you held your ground. We've made a long run for it, ma'am, hopin' to find you and get some rest," he finished. I saw him sway a little, as though the words had taken all he had left.

Catching him under his arm I helped him to an overturned half barrel that sat just inside the stable. Fetching fresh water from the pump, I dumped it in a small pail I kept nearby for just such a purpose. Gable drank long and deep then poured what was left over his head, soaking the collar and shoulders of his shirt. I could tell it refreshed him somewhat, his dull eyes brightening a little.

"Much obliged to you, Miss Stone,"

"You should rest, I'll tend to your horse," I offered but he immediately shook his head.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am, but me and Slick here, we been through a rough road together, and I'll care for him."

"Slick?" I arched a brow at the horse, who presently looked more like crow bait than decent horseflesh.

Lars Gable broke into a wide smile as the gelding stepped over, reaching for him with a weary nose.

"I call him that because he's like a hot knife through butter, ma'am, once he gets a notion to run. Nothin' can stop 'im, and fews the ones who can catch 'im." He stroked the horse's muzzle affectionately. "Don't let his looks fool you, Miss Stone, he's all fire and sand!"

"When you are finished, please, come inside and rest." I insisted and Gable nodded, stripping the gear from the worn-out gelding.

"As to food," his call stopped me. "I made you a promise once, ma'am and I've not forgot. Those extra horses are loaded with supplies; you help yourself to whatever you're needin', with our thanks."

There was a great variety of food stuffs packed on the fourteen horses, from flour and rice to coffee, sugar, bacon and canned beans. I found jars of preserved fruit, salt, corn, potatoes, onions, carrots, even fresh lemons and some apples. There were hunks of mountain sheep and several sides of venison as well. As the men saw to their mounts Whip helped me unload the supplies and take them inside. As I got to work in the kitchen, he set about bringing in plenty of firewood, fresh water, and vegetables from my garden.

By the time the men had washed off and come inside a large pot of coffee was ready and I had gone a long way towards making a hearty meal. Stewing the vegetables, I added flour and water for a thick gravy, then pan fried the last of our venison, adding a heavy amount of bacon from their supplies. Mixing it all together in the Dutch oven I whipped up the makings for biscuits. The house smelled wonderful, and though no one spoke, it was full of life.

Immediately after eating the company rolled up in their chosen bunks and dropped off, utterly spent. Whip helped me silently clear the table and wash the dishes, our voices hushed as we spoke.

"You've met these men?" he asked, drying the pots and dishes I handed to him.

"Not by sight, except him," I nodded toward one. "His name is Lars Gable, he was here a while back, and proved a decent man."