The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) by Brad Dennison (books that read to you .txt) 📕

been a lot of girlfriends in Josh’s life. After all, on the frontier, single women of marrying age were extremely few. There was one of Alicia Summers’ girls, Jolene her name was. He had never learned her last name. They had taken something of a liking to each other, and a few times, when they were each a little too lonely, they had gotten together and she had never charged him. But he had taken no one else to this spot.

The creek was roughly circular, about fifty feet across, but fed by two small mountain streams, and it drained into the larger stream that cut across the valley, and eventually fed a small pond east of McCabe Gap some called McCabe Lake. A perimeter of grass surrounded the creek, and was sometimes used by deer to bed down at night. Three different game trails wound their way down through the woods to converge on this creek.

Josh sat up after a time, leaning back on one elbow, and let his gaze drift along the water of the creek. A humming bird zipped along, then darted away. A breeze kicked up, rippling through the grass and touching his hair.

“What do I do, Ma?” he said aloud, the first time he had actually spoken to her in years. “I’m so riled at the very thought of having him in the house. That gunhawk, claiming to be my brother.”

He was replaying his conversation with Hunter in his mind. What it amounted to, what Hunter was trying to say by suggesting he look at himself, was that here was Josh, trying so hard to be like Pa, and then this stranger walks in, a son no one had known about, who actually is like Pa, without even trying.

And maybe Josh didn’t like the idea of no longer being the only son of Johnny McCabe. Jack was Pa’s son too, of course, but Jack was off in school, on his way to being a doctor. He would settle in some built-up place, probably, like San Franciso, or maybe he would stay east. Chicago, or Boston, or even New York. He would make his mark on the world through medicine. But it was Josh who would be riding the trails alongside Pa, and building the ranch alongside him, and eventually taking over for him. And it was Josh who lived forever in Pa’s shadow. Maybe he didn’t like the possibility of now being trapped in Dusty’s shadow, too.

Josh did have to admit Dusty looked a lot more like Pa than Josh himself did. Josh took a lot after Ma, with the shape of his face and the color of his hair. Josh’s bone structure was narrower than Pa’s, more like Ma’s, and as such, he would never have the physique of Pa. Dusty seemed to be built more like Pa, with wider shoulders, thicker forearms and wrists. And the square jaw, the firm nose. His hair color was even similar.

Maybe worst of all, Dusty carried his pistol as though he really knew how to use it.

Maybe Hunter was right. Hunter hadn’t used the word jealous, but as Aunt Ginny had always said, if the shoe fits..?

“I don’t know, Ma,” he said aloud. “I try so hard to be like him. It’s all I ever wanted. To be good enough to ride beside the man who men talk about over campfires and in saloons. And when I make a little progress, like the way I handled Reno and the boys, I meet someone like Dusty who seems to be so easily what I try so hard to be.”

Maybe you’re trying too hard to be someone you’re not, Josh. Try being yourself. You might find you, as your own man, are someone every bit as worth respecting as your father.

How about that, he thought with a smile. He could imagine he almost heard her voice.

He wanted to share Pa’s belief in spirits, but he knew wanting to believe wasn’t the same as actually believing.

“Well, Rabbit,” he said to the horse, as if the horse could actually understand him, “time to mount up and ride back.”

Josh had loosened the cinch, but now he tightened it again, pushed a foot into the stirrup, and swung into the saddle. He was twenty, and felt like a failure. He was afraid he would always be lost in the long shadow of a man whose greatness he could aspire to, but never fully achieve. Josh knew cattle and horses, and he knew he could one day take over the ranch when Pa was ready to hand its reins over to him, and he could gain respect among other ranchers. But men would never talk about him over campfires.

Why was that so important to him? Why did he even care what other people thought of him? Pa had often said, as long as he had the respect of Josh and Jack and Bree, he didn’t care what anyone else thought about him. How do you gain that sort of confidence? That kind of independence?

Just another way he was failing to measure up to his Pa.

Josh turned Rabbit away from the creek, and as they moved toward the line of trees beyond the perimeter of grass, Josh cast a glance over his shoulder back to the water. “I love you, Ma.”

TWENTY-TWO

Josh dismounted outside the stable. Fred had been stepping out of the tackle room at the side of the building, and seen him riding up. He reached for the rein. “I’ll take him, Josh.”

“Thanks, Fred. Oh, and I’m sorry I rode off so abruptly this morning. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Oh, well. Now to go apologize to Pa and Aunt Ginny. Pa was right – manners had to be preserved. Josh had never stormed out of the house like that before, and he never intended to again. And after all, this was his home, too. He was not going to vacate it simply because of a tense situation. If anyone