The Diary of Jerrod Bently by J.W. Osborn (large ebook reader TXT) 📕

a reservation, as I understood those places to be, it was like a small community of Natives, some of the people were Blackfoot, but there were members from other tribes too and it all was headed up by Wolf Standing, their chief. With all the trouble between the Indians and the whites, it was hard to comprehend how a place like this could coexist in peace with a town the size of Grant’s Creek. When I asked Sam about it all she said was “The Lord moves in strange ways.” and left it at that. She would explain all that to me later on, for right now the task of getting settled was at hand. The sun was setting when we rode into Bear Claw and seeing two small log cabins with a lean-to style barn and paddock behind them was a welcome sight to all. Scrub Pot halted his team, set the break and climbed down from the seat of the wagon. He looked around himself, then walked to the door of the first cabin and pushed it open. “No coyotes this time!,” he called back over his shoulder to Sam and I heard her laugh as she slid out of her saddle.
“Who lives here, Doc?”, Victoria asked her husband as she dismounted and loosened Fancy’s girth. Doc grinned at her from the back of his horse. “This my sweet wife, is my bachelorhood home.,” he said as he swung down. “Better let me go inside first. It’s been a while and I don’t know if there are any critters in there or not.”
Thinking of the skunk her husband shot the day after their wedding, Victoria began to giggle. “And what is so funny, Missus Stevens,” Doc inquired as he crossed to the front door of the cabin.
“Nothing,” Victoria grinned as she pulled her saddle bags from the back of her horse. “Just thinking about your first day as my husband and Sherrif of Portersville.”
Doc walked inside the small two room cabin, hoping that there was not going to be a confrontation with some wild animal who’d taken up residence since his departure, especially another pole cat. He reached for a rusty lantern that hung by the door and pulled his match case from the pocket of his dungarees , then lit the wick inside. As the flame sputtered to life, he looked around. The cabin was the same as he’d left it. Victoria walked in behind him and to take a look for herself. There was dust everywhere, and the cabin smelled musty. “Well,” she said as she looked around at the simple furnishings and four bunks against the wall. “It will do, but it sure needs a good cleaning.” Doc nodded his agreement as he walked across the front room to where a canvas curtain separated it from the second one. He pulled it aside and looked in, raising the lantern. He was smiling when he turned back to his wife. “Give me those bags, Honey,” he said “This is our room!” Doubtfully Victoria handed him the saddle bags and taking the lantern from him, took a look at the room. Behind the curtain was a beautifully carved four poster bed with a feather mattress and colorful Indian blankets on it. It was far more rustic than what she was used to, but after so many days in the saddle, Victoria thought it would be perfect, until she could get on with giving Doc’s cabin a “woman’s touch.”


In a little while, there were fires going in the fire places of each cabin and lights in the windows. The horses were fed and turned out in the corral. Best of all Victoria Stevens was cooking, and did it ever smell good!! I was staying in Doc’s cabin, and the Jax brothers would be joining us at some point and probably John Prince too. Sam and her grandfather were now at home. She was happy and I could tell how much she loved this place from the moment we rode in. I was helping Scrub Pot unload the essentials from his wagon when company arrived. It was Wolf Standing on his white horse and Little Fox on a black and white paint. Scrub Pot went to him, grasping his hand , and spoke to him in the language of the Blackfoot. All of a sudden, the chief was laughing until tears flowed down his face. “I am glad she liked the mare,” he said in broken English. Then he gestured to his son. “You must tell Sam that you will marry another,” he said.
Had I heard that right? Did I have cause to be jealous? Was this handsome looking young Blackfoot warrior a rival? If Sam Dodge was going to have a husband, it was going to be me, no matter what I had to do. I was relieved as I set down the large sack of flour I was carrying and saw a young woman ride in behind the two men. Later I would find out that she was Lillie Greyhorse, the soon to be bride of Little Fox and that set right well with me. We rested for a few days. I got acquainted with some of the folks and met many of Sam’s friends. The women of the village were fascinated by Victoria Stevens, especially her long blonde hair. She and Sam braided their locks like the other women and Sam could translate what they were saying for her. They had many questions about cooking the way Victoria did and Sam did her best to help them understand. Everyone got along well and seemed very happy to see Scrub Pot and his family back home again. When I woke up early that Sunday morning and looked out the window next to my bunk and saw the people of Bear Claw all assembling in front of Scrub Pot’s cabin. At first I thought something was wrong, and I got up and dressed quickly. Sam was sitting on the step of the cabin as though she had been waiting for me for a while. “Good morning, Jerrod,” she said with a smile as she rose to her feet. I put my arms around her and kissed her on the forehead. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Church,” she replied “Grandfather is going to preach. ” She grasped my hand. “Come on. I want us to have a good seat.” I looked around , seeing mostly the Indians, but there were a few of the folks from town too. “He preaches a good sermon,” Sam assured me as we joined the congregation. I was amazed when the old man stepped out of his cabin and began what turned out to be a traditional Sunday service.

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There was business to be settled with Roger Hinkley. Doc, Scrub Pot and I were with Sam when she rode out to the Flying S to meet with him. The man seemed mighty surprised to see her too, and quite worried when he saw the three of us behind her. He was cordial enough when he invited us in to the ranch house, because he undoubtedly sensed that he was about to get what was coming to him. Yes, that was true, and it wasn’t just money from the sale of the cattle either. Sam was cool and calm when she sat down with the man and handed him all the papers and set the sack of cash from the sale of the cattle on the table between them. “There you are, Mr. Hinkly,” she said “You are now paid in full. Not only for the herd, but the other half of what I owed to you on the ranch. Now, if you would get the necessary papers out, we can sign them and be done with this.”
Hinkly had not expected this and he stuttered and backed up. “Well, Miss Dodge,” he said as he reached for the money, “I don’t have those papers or the deed.”
“Where are they?”, Scrub Pot asked. “Misplaced perhaps?”
The man was afraid of Indians and one in his parlor was particularly disconcerting. “No.”, he said “They are at the bank. I can’t get them until Monday morning.”
“That ain’t good enough, Hinkley.,” Doc interjected as he swept the money bag up off the table “Sam is here to pay you off as agreed., and by the way, your man Travis is in jail down in Waco.”
Roger Hinkly looked up at him, trying to conceal his fear of this man’s reputation. “Doc,” he said “I don’t know what you are talking about. I don’t employ anyone by that name.”
“May be not now.,” Doc growled “But you did.”
“You have to give me that money,” Hinkley stated, “It’s mine. All of it.”
“You will get your money when Sam gets those papers and the deed,” I said as Sam got up from the chair. “By high noon on Monday, Mr. Hinkly,” she said “Or there will be repercussions you might not like.”
“Is that a threat, Miss Dodge?”, he glared.
“Take it anyway you like,” Sam replied “I will expect to see you at noon sharp on Monday.”
“You can’t take my money!”, Hinkley shouted angrily, but changed his tone abruptly when he saw Doc undo the gun strap on his holster. “Monday, Hinkley,” he said with a threat in his eyes. Hinkly looked up at me. “What about you Bently?”, he said “I brought you in on all of this. You owe me,”
“Monday,” I stated firmly “and you best make good on all your dealings.” We left, with him shouting and screaming after us. Sam should have been livid, but she was very calm, and keeping her temper under control. She was up to something, and whatever it was, if it meant putting that two bit low life in his place, I was with her all the way. Well, Saturday and Sunday passed and we rode back to Grants Creek to meet Hinkly at the bank. It was high noon according to Doc’s gold watch and there was no sign of the man.