Tall Sky Country Chapter #1

The year was 1910 when Father, Mother, the family and I all moved from our little house in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania to the ranch in Colorado, and I was a boy who thought he was a man. Father was a foreman at one of the mills there, but had come down with the Racking Cough the winter of '09, and had been too sick to work for almost 3 months. The doctor said the only thing for it was dry weather and plenty of sunlight; Mother and Father had a lot of long talks that summer, and a few weeks after the 4th of July we were all 7 of us on a train to Denver.

Now, Mother had a brother who lived in Denver, and who I liked a lot. His name was Alexander, but we all called him Uncle Alex, and he was a mining engineer and appraiser. He used to tell me and my siblings all kinds of tall tales and nail-biters about his time prospecting out west. He had wrestled wild Nagas, and ridden in hunting parties with wild Indian Centaurs, and had even spent 6 months in the Canadian Yukon, where he claimed to have become an honorary member of an Orc Clan. He had a strange tattoo on his bicep which he said proved it, but Mother would scold him whenever he tried to show us, which was nearabouts every time he visited.

Uncle Alex had written Mother and Father when he had heard about Father's illness, and had suggested we come to Colorado and take up ranching there. "Honest, Moll, there ain't nothing to it. We get nearabouts 300 sunny days a year, and the weather's bone-dry all year round. They even built a TB clinic in the Springs. Now, you and Charlie can take over this little place just shy of Littleton. Man I won the deed from says it's been abandoned a few years, but there's a house and a barn, a well, and even a few trees. It'll be good for both of you to get out of this city, and enjoy the country life. Besides, the kids'll love it--why a year from now, and your boys'll be making their own living and learning enough to make their own go of it when the time comes."

Mother was against it at first, but I could see how worried she was about father. She wouldn't let him get out of bed all day, except for meals and trips to the privvy. She would take little treats she would make, and twice a day she'd chase us kids out of the house while they talked things over. I never heard what they talked about, but Father always looked better after Mother looked in on him, and day by day he got stronger, until finally he wanted to return to the mill. Mother cried, but he just looked solemn and stared at us kids with his sharp grey eyes, "Moll, you know I can't stay like this, much as I'd like to. I've got to return to work or I'll lose my place at the Mill." Then he picked up his dinner pail and his hat and walked out the door, back straight and shoulders swinging. Mother burst into tears like he was walking to the scaffold, and the next day she sent a telegram to Uncle Alex to arrange our trip to Denver.

Uncle Alex was waiting for us at the station when we arrived, and took us all to the rooming house in his wagon, pulled by a mated pair of Centaurs. The male was a broad Palomino with a long mane and a bright, flashing smile, and I liked him at once. His mate was a roan with long red mane tied back in 4 long braids that danced and whipped whenever she trotted. Uncle Alex noticed me admiring the team and smiled back, showing his gold tooth. “You like my team?” He asked me, and I nodded, “Jager here was my lead on my last trip to Utah, a good surveyor and the best damn trail-blazer I ever worked with”. --Mother never let Uncle Alex swear in front of us, but he liked to throw in a ‘damn’ or ‘holy moses’ whenever she was out of hearing--“And Boudicca here was a sweet little filly we met in Salt Lake. Damn near halted our whole trip until Jager paid her indenture and convinced me to bring her along.” Jager smiled back at him, but said nothing. “Hell, I would’ve paid her stock fee myself--don’t let her looks fool you—she’s a great cook, and a fine team boss to boot. She keeps Jager here in line, when he isn’t following after her like a little lost puppy” Jager’s smile got a kind of fixed-on look, like a skin on a day-old custard, but Boudicca laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

The next few days were hectic. Mother and Father and I drove down with Uncle Alex to the ranch. What we found wasn’t encouraging. The house’s windows were all broken, both doors were fallen in, and the plaster walls were cracked and flaking. The well had collapsed, and the barn, the only respectable structure, was filled a mess of dirt, droppings, and tumbleweeds. Father stared at the woebegone sight with hollow eyes and a tight mouth. Uncle Alex muttered something about ‘finding that horse-thief of a poker cheat’ and then stepped away to inspect the privy.

“It’s not much, love, but I suppose we had better get to planning,” Mother said in a soft voice. Father replied “Moll, the only planning we have to do is arrange for tickets back home, while we still have the money. I won’t have you living in a god-forsaken place like this.” But Mother looked at him steadily and said, “The Good Book says, ‘Trust in the LORD, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and be fed. God has led us here, so we should put our shoulder to the wheel and not turn back.” Father didn’t say anything, but he was smiling all the way home.

The next few days were a blur; Father and I woke up early each morning, purchased second-hand supplies, and rode out to the ranch to work until late in the evening on the repairs. Uncle Alex came to help Father repair the well and fit news doors on the house and the barn. He told Father he was sorry about the state of the place, and insisted on gifting Father Jager and Boudicca as a housewarming gift. Father tried to refuse, but Uncle Alex was firm, and pointed out that he wouldn’t be needing them for his next trip anyway, and besides Father would need a good team of horses and didn’t have a lot of cash left to spare. Father finally relented when Jager pointed out that he and Boudicca were looking to settle down anyway, and maybe have a foal or two. Boudicca’s face turned redder than her hair, but Jager just smiled wider than before.

It wasn’t long after that Father pronounced the house ready for Mother, and the next day Jager and Boudicca brought Mother and the other children down from Denver to our new home. I should stop here and introduce the rest of the family. There was Mabel, a year and 2 months older than me, and smarter besides. We quarreled some, but she always got me out of trouble I didn’t deserve, and quite a bit I did besides. Everyone else was younger than me: My brothers Phillip and Nathan, Emma, and little Abel the baby. I helped Mother bring the last of the supplies into the house, and then went out again at the sound of horses.

It turned out to be our next door neighbor, Mr. Stilson. He was a broad-shouldered man with a wide mustache and a loud, booming voice like an auctioneer. He introduced himself and offered Father his hand. When he saw me, he stuck his hand out to me too. He gripped like a vice and introduced himself again to me, “Howdy, sonny, my name’s Brammock Stilson, but everybody calls me Bram. And what’s your name?” “My name’s Ralph, pleased to meet you Mr. Stilson!” He laughed, “No need to call me mister, son, just call me Bram. Everybody does!” Suddenly he looked serious and turned to Father. “Say, Charles, I didn’t see any cows around your place. What are you giving these kids for milk.”

“We’ve got a few cases of condensed milk, that’ll last us until we can get the funds for a cow,” Father said. I had overheard him and Mother discussing money after dinner one night. I hadn’t caught the details, but I was fairly certain between the move itself and the repairs to the house that there weren’t many dollars to our family’s name.

Bram shook his head, “Nonsense, that stuff’s only good for chuck wagons and tourists! Now see here, my cousin left me his stock at the beginning of the summer, and I’m short on milking facilities. I’ve got 6 new heifers eating high and more milk than I can drink or can besides. Better let me lend you one for the meantime, it would save me on feed!” Father started to protest, but Bram just shook his head, “No, no, its not charity. The way I figure it, you’ll need a good milk cow sooner than later, and I’m not bragging when I tell you I raise the finest girls west of the Mississippi. Now, if I lend you one over the winter, I’m out her milk production, which I can’t use fully now anyway, but I get you as a customer, see? Otherwise, you might go up to those horse-thieves in Littleton or worse, my neighbor Clive Biggsley. So really, I’m doing myself a favor.”

I could see Father wanted to argue, but he must have known he didn’t really have a choice. So he and I jumped up into Bram’s wagon and we started off to his place. Bram’s place turned out to be a large and well-appointed ranch to the east of us. It was a combination creche and dairy; Bram mostly raised and sold Cowgirls, along with a few herds of sheep and goats. When we arrived, Bram lead me and Father out to one of the barns to select a heifer of our very own.

The interior of the barn was dark and warm, and smelled faintly of hay and cattle, a sweet, heavy odor. Most of the cows were lounging on hay or cushions sleeping, although a few sat and talked quietly amongst themselves. Bram lead us confidently to the back corner, where six younger cowgirls sat in their own stalls, and smiled up curiously at us. “These are my cousin’s stock, new heifers never bred. Their milk production is lower because of it, but any of them should produce enough for your family. Besides, if you ever want more, that boy of yours looks big enough to handle the job!” Bram laughed loudly, startling some of the cows further up the barn. But I didn’t even hear his joke at my expense, because just then, I was staring into the most beautiful eyes I had ever see—soft, warm brown pools that stared back at as she smiled shyly. I would spend a lot of time staring into those eyes over the next few months, and I knew even then that I wanted to see that gentle smile everyday for the rest of my life.

“H-hi there, mister. M-my names Annabel, N-nice to meet you…”