River Wild (eBook)

Am I My Brother’s Keeper?

Jacob led his horses into their stalls for what he intended would be the last time for a while, maybe ever. The harvest was in, the equipment cleaned and oiled for the winter. Now the horses had been combed out and bedded down. Tomorrow he would leave the farm for the West to build a prosperous future. He estimated it would take three years to acquire enough to invest in his own company. In the meantime, Pa and the hired hand would help Rachel tend to the hard work of his farm, immediately adjacent to their own. Jacob would send back money as he could.

“I really wish you would reconsider, Jake,” Rachel persisted, knowing her efforts were futile. Jacob calculated carefully before deciding something, and when he decided, it was done. But somewhere out there was Caleb, gone six years without any word, and now she was afraid of losing his older brother to that same wilderness. She looked tenderly at Gabriel, who was drifting into sleep while sitting by the fireplace. She scooped him up and carried him to his bed. It was no good raising a boy with no men around. Jacob’s father was getting too old to roll around and wrestle with him; long years of hard labor had made him tough, but he was no longer pliant.

Returning to the parlor, she resumed her place in the rocking chair by the fireplace and bent herself to the task of sewing, her eyes sharp enough to thread the needles even in the uncertain light of flickering candles and the fire going in the hearth. It was just big enough to take the chill out of the autumn night, but not as big as it would need to be in the months to come, when winter would arrive and her husband would be away.

“Staying here,” Jacob reminded her of their previous conversations on the topic, “we will continue to get by, just like my folks and yours always have. We get by, but we don’t get ahead. A few years of trapping and I can afford to buy into the company, where the real money is made, in trading. And then we’ll buy a nice home for Gabriel and his brothers and sisters eventually to grow up in and for you to live the grand life I’ve always wanted for you.”

Rachel wasn’t sure that a grand life was what she wanted for herself, but she didn’t try to argue the point.

“I’m afraid that you’ll disappear like Caleb did. You have responsibilities here.”

“So did Caleb! Just to leave and without really saying goodbye! And never letting Mom and Papa know how he’s getting along?” It was useless to argue with Rachel over Caleb, Jacob knew. He had hurt his family badly, showed no remorse, and yet still Caleb could do no wrong in Rachel’s eyes. How it pained him that his brother continued to interfere, even after the passing of so much time and at such a distance, between him and Rachel!

He would find him, alright. And there would be a reckoning, for certain. Caleb was his brother and he did love him, but it was easy to forget it in his anger, and before any fences could be mended, Caleb would need to repent his selfishness.

Day had barely broken when Jacob washed down the remnants of his breakfast with coffee and carried his bags to the wagon. The horses were hitched and Rachel and Gabriel climbed in with him. He took the reins on the way out. She would return without him. He would be taking a boat upriver from Saint Louis. Horses and other necessary equipment would be provided at the other end of the trip.

Rachel held Jacob closely, fiercely even, until he had to pull her arms away to free himself. He swept Gabriel up in his arms, tossing him and catching him easily before handing him back to his mother. “I’ll write the first opportunity I get,” he promised. “And if I find Caleb, I’ll pass on any news.”

Rachel led Gabriel into the wagon next to her, picked up the reins, and started the long, lonely journey home. It would take four hours, but each hour and every mile would be multiplied against itself as they took her and her husband in opposite directions. She felt a gray emptiness. She was struggling against a fog so dark and dense that she knew if she surrendered to it, there would be no coming back. She understood the sense of Jacob’s reasoning. She was aware of the promise of a better future and was confident in Jacob’s abilities. She just was incapable of seeing a happy outcome. Caleb had been gone these six years and not been heard from. That wilderness simply devoured men and did not give them back.

It was always the women who were left behind to put things back together for the children, for the homes, for the families, to make a life rather than a living. “Gabriel,” she said to her son, “if you ever tell me you’re wilderness bound, I swear I will take a switch and whip you all the way to Oregon and back!”

Gabriel simply laughed. “Mama, you couldn’t catch me!”

Finally Rachel laughed too, surrendering to the willfulness and wild hearts of the men she loved.

Reunion

Several months later, Jacob had joined a team of trappers trapping streams that fed into the Bitterroot River. Visiting the team was one of the company’s owners, Tom Fitzpatrick, a seasoned veteran of the trade. It didn’t take long for someone to become seasoned in that harsh school. The syllabus was life and death. Survive a few years and get through a few close scrapes, and you were a veteran. Otherwise you were dead.

“Jacob Brooks?” Tom inquired, looking him up and down. “Any kin to Caleb?”

“We’re from the same parents,” was Jake’s response.

“Brothers, then,” Tom made the connection, “though a queer way of saying so. Well, Jake, if you’re half the man your brother is, you’ll be twice the man of many.”

“He was always the lazy, irresponsible sort,” countered Jacob.

“I think you’ll find the man quite different from the boy. Caleb is worth his weight. We could do with a whole lot more like him.”

Visiting a neighboring camp, Tom asked, “What do you think of the new man, Jim?”

“A little raw still, Cap’n. But strong as an ox and a hard worker,” was Jim Beckwourth’s reply.

“Did you know that he’s Caleb’s brother?”

“No I didn’t, but I had my suspicions. They look a bit alike, even if this one’s a good deal bigger. Neither ever mentions the other. I guess they’re alike in that, too.”

The mountains in the western territory were vast and tall. All of his native Ireland could fit within a few of its valleys. Such was Tom Fitzpatrick’s realization of the possibilities before him. His ambition was equal to the task and he willingly embraced the dangers and rewards of hard work in his adopted country, quickly rising to become a part owner of the company, riding out to visit his teams of trappers.

“Hello in the camp!” Tom Fitzgerald announced his presence. He had ridden out, with enough armed companions to deter only the most determined war party, to check on his men trapping on a tributary of the Yellowstone.

Two men were present to greet them, cleaning equipment and starting the dinner meal. The others were due back in camp soon. Tom and his men saw to their horses and inspected the camp. Seems like you’ve thought things through out here. Can’t be too careful.”

“Caleb sees to that, sir.”

“I trust so. He knows how to survive out here, even how to thrive. You’ll do well to pay close attention.”

Caleb was back in camp before sunset, carrying in a handful of hides.

“Caleb, did you know you have a brother out trapping these streams?”

“Jacob? He’s out West? What about the farm and his wife?”

“Says he has hired hands and his father can look in on them. Aims to make some money out here to get a leg up to start some business when he gets back.”

“Well, he always was a planner.”

“You’ll see him at rendezvous, no doubt. It’s going to be at the same spot on the Green River as two years ago.”

The Mark of Cain

The winter had been a long one, and colder than usual. As a result, the beaver furs were rich and abundant and especially luxurious. As the brigades rode through the Green River valley they found a large camp already waiting for them. Supply wagons from Saint Louis and Independence had off loaded their supplies into hastily erected tents.

Several tribes of Indians were represented; Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Crow encampments were all in close proximity. Already the earlier arrivals were engaged in entertaining contests, horse races, foot races, wrestling matches. Whiskey was flowing freely, adding to the merriment.

Caleb heard Jacob before he saw him. For a moment he thought it was Papa, until he heard the high pitched “Ha, ha!” that suddenly tumbled over a precipice into a deep, chesty rumbling. That laugh of his marked out Jacob as sure as the baying of a hound marked out a treed coon.

Jacob turned toward him, his eyes sizing up the approaching stranger, and then suddenly showing the surprise of recognition. “Caleb, you are a full-grown man, now, and a hard-looking one at that! You was always full of gristle and sinew, but now you got some meat on you, too.”

“How’s Rachel?” came Caleb’s greeting. A shadow passed quickly across Jacob’s face. Maybe it was just a high-flying cloud that blotted out the sun for the briefest of seconds.

“She’s good, and the boy, our son, little Gabriel, is learning his reading and writing and becoming quite helpful about the place, a regular little gentleman,” he said, the sun shining...