Chronicles Of The Maca Collection

Chapter 19

Jesse Owens reined in his mule when he topped a small rise and looked around. He had seen smoke billowing several miles back and wondered who was out in this empty stretch of the Texas plains besides wild animals, wild cattle, wild horses, wild men, wild Indians, and occasional foothills of stone trying to be mountains. This was prairie grass with stands of juniper and scrub oak. Cottonwood and oak trees grew where water ran or percolated up in a spring, but it was too dry for good farming land. He"d seen what looked like maybe two ranches a couple of miles back, but this smoke was more than what came from a couple of stoves. It couldn"t be a prairie fire as the smoke was fairly constant and remained in one place. To the east were several high bluffs, more prairie, and rolling hills. The hills became higher and carpeted with trees and continued upward into stone mounds that some might call mountains. They were too low to be like the mountains back in the South where his folks came from. When he looked southward he saw a settlement of three houses, a stable, and two other buildings. One had a steady stream of smoke and now he could hear the clanging of metal against an anvil.

“Well, now, maybe they have something liquid to offer a man.” His brown eyes lighted at the thought and he tapped the mule lightly and rode on down.

He dismounted in front of the building that had a sign proclaiming, “Schmidt"s Corner.” The building had been whitewashed and the black lettering over the door announced this to be a General Store. It wouldn"t hurt to see what they had. Jesse tied the mule to the hitching rail and entered.

A slender, dark haired man was emerging from what looked like a hall running back to a storage area. “Welcome, you are my first customer of the day.” Kasper smiled as both men took stock of each other.

To Jesse, Kasper looked more like a city person than someone out in the middle of Texas. Kasper"s shirt was white and starched, he wore a grey vest, and dark trousers with shined, laced up shoes.

Kasper saw a medium-sized man, tending to the stocky side, dark hair and eyes, dusty, trail-worn clothes and boots. When Jesse removed his hat, it was obvious his hair was beginning to thin although he didn"t look more than about thirty.

Kasper moved behind the counter. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I was hoping to find a drink, some beer. It"s been a dry trip.”

“I do have beer, but it is by the bottle. Mrs. Schmidt prefers that you drink it outside.”

Kasper bent and brought up a bottle. “You"re in luck. I still have a few left before the next freight load comes through.” He became a business man. “That"ll be a dime since it would fill two mugs.”

Jesse considered. “I don"t suppose there is a tavern here?”

“No, there isn"t. I stock the beer because my customers want it. The other business is the Jackson"s ironworks and blacksmith shop.”

Jesse fished in his pocket for a dime and came up with two half dimes. “I don"t suppose you offer any food with that.”

“No, we don"t as we aren"t a tavern.”

“Do you get much traffic through here?”

“Not a whole lot.” Kasper hated to admit it, but he depended on travelers passing through, the two Tillman ranches, a few scattered small spreads, the Rolfe"s, and MacDonald whenever the man chose to be in the area. He was thankful that Gerde had never upbraided him for settling here. The search for his sister had yielded no information. Rolfe wouldn"t be back for another month and who knew when MacDonald would ride in?

“While our neighbors appreciate the fact that I stock the beer, my wife really doesn"t like the idea. It brings in the rowdies.” He smiled. “They"re not bad men, just young. Our home is in this building and we have a small son.”

“Do tell.” Jesse laid his change on the counter as Kasper opened the bottle. “Since you ain"t overrun with customers why don"t you step outside with me and tell me more about this area.”

“Gladly, I don"t have any children for lessons today.” Kasper removed his apron and walked outside with Owens.

“If you wish to water your mule, the river is behind us. It"s not too far and the water is free.” He smiled again. The elder Jackson was a taciturn man and Kasper enjoyed talking with people.

“I"ll do that in a bit. I was wondering how much you do in the way of business.” He saw the quick flash of concern in Kasper"s eyes.

“This looks like a good place. There"s plenty of grass and water. The way you talked, you get enough business with the booze to upset your missus.”

“She"d like for me to give it up, but it is rather profitable and it keeps people coming into the store to buy their sundries here. We get the ranchers, any hands they might have, travelers going between here and the farm settlements further north. While travelers aren"t many, there"s enough to make a profit on the stable, plus the freighters stop here if it is towards evening when they arrive.”

“So you wouldn"t object if somebody came in and put up a saloon.” Jesse winced as soon as he said the word, but why not? Taverns were considered old-fashioned places. He just hoped this Yankee wouldn"t take offense.

“My name is Jesse Owens.” He shifted the bottle to his left hand and extended his right.

“Kasper Schmidt.” The two men shook.

Jesse took a pull from the bottle. “Who owns the land between here and the blacksmith and ironworks place?”

“I own the land back to the river on this side of the block up to the blacksmith shop. Herman Rolfe owns most of the land on the other side of the road. His ranch starts on the other side of the blacksmith"s house and lot. Across the street a wainwright is planning to open a business and build a house. I was hoping to purchase the land across the road someday, but Mr. Rolfe has already seen the wisdom of dividing it up into lots. We intend to build a church on the other side, but a little farther north.”

Jesse stuck the information in the back of his mind that he had landed among a bunch of Dutchman.

“Mr. Rolfe has taken a small herd of steers up to Chisholm in the Indian Territory. It seems they knew each other while they were trappers. His wife, Mrs. Rolfe, is in the larger house at the end.”

“Y"all interested in selling that land?”

“What sort of saloon do you intend to open?”

Jesse scratched at this scalp under his hat and took another swig while he considered.

“Well, it"d be a small-sized one. Just a regular place where a man could come in, buy a beer, and play a game of cards. Y"all know, like the corner tavern in a big city; a place to get away from the missus and kids for awhile and relax.” He assumed Kasper would find the opportunity a plus since he"d mentioned having a son.

Kasper considered. “As long as it isn"t a rowdy place with women, I think it would be an excellent addition to Schmidt"s Corner.”

Jesse eyed the man. This one was definitely different. He had a strange sounding name and he was talking like a scholar, plus he seemed to have a bunch of highfalutin morals. It wouldn"t matter. Jesse couldn"t afford to bring in women. He"d be lucky to afford putting up the building and a smaller place in back to live.

“Suppose we came to an agreement, where can we make it legal like?”

“We could go to the courthouse in Arles. It"s the county seat. There"s a Justice of the Peace and a Notary there. It takes about four and one-half days to get there. They also have a lumberyard.”

“Well, now, suppose we talk about price?”

Kasper smiled. “The lot is yours for fifty-five dollars.”

“Can y"all make it fifty? Of course, that"s after I look at this river to see if there"ll be water enough.”

“I believe Mrs. Schmidt and I will accept that. Right this way.”

They walked around and behind the store. He doesn"t want to bother his missus, thought Jesse. The walk led to an open space of about forty feet from the river.

“Why is everything set so far back?”

“In case the river floods, we do not have to worry about the damage it could do.”

“Who owns that shack across the river?”

“That belongs to a Mexican family. They were there before I arrived. They have a cow and the woman raises some vegetables. They have a little girl named Olivia.”

“They ever cause any trouble?”

“Why would they?” Kasper was puzzled.

Jesse shrugged. “Y"all never know with a Mex. Does he do any work?”

“Once in a while Mr. Rolfe or Mr. MacDonald will hire him.”

“No complaints from them about his work?”

“I"ve not heard any. They wouldn"t hire him again if it wasn"t what they wanted.”

Jesse nodded. He figured he could hire the woman to do some cooking for the saloon. He"d been on the road long enough. It was time to settle down and plant some roots.

“Will this Rolfe have any objections to a saloon?” Jesse realized that a man with a wife or kids could object if the man let his wife browbeat him into doing something to protect the morals of their children.

“Why, no, I don"t believe he would. He would probably be one of your steady customers when he is here.”

Jesse smiled widely. “Mr. Schmidt, you"ve just made a sale.”