Free Boswell's Luck by G. Clifton Wisler Page A

Rat whispered to the wind. “Nobody lasts for long alive, so I guess you cain’t expect to do better dead.”
    He rode into Thayerville early the next morning. All the way from Kansas he’d been rehearsing the words he’d share with Mary Morris. But when he stepped inside the mercantile, he was unprepared for what he found. Sitting behind the counter was a pleasant-faced boy of fifteen or so, and a second youngster maybe a year younger restocked shelves.
    â€œMornin’,” the stock boy called as Rat stared at the counter-his counter. “What can I get you, mister?”
    â€œI’m Rat Hadley,” the newcomer explained.
    â€œJosh Morris,” the youngest boy answered, offering his hand. “Yonder’s my brother Jeremiah. We just come out from Tyler to help our aunt.”
    â€œMiz Morris handy?” Rat asked.
    â€œI’ll fetch her,” Josh said, hurrying toward the storeroom. Moments later he reappeared with Mary Morris.
    â€œMornin’, ma’am,” Rat said.
    â€œLord be praised,” Mrs. Morris cried, rushing over and wrapping Rat up in her arms. She kissed and hugged and close to squeezed him silly. Finally she let go and asked about Mitch.
    â€œHe stayed in Dodge City,” Rat explained, handing her Mitch’s letter.
    â€œDoing what?” Mrs. Morris asked.
    â€œWell, he found himself a job o’ sorts,” Rat said, praying he wouldn’t give out too much of the truth. Mary Morris deemed cards the devil’s own tools, and she condemned them mightily.
    â€œWell, he’s of an age to find distractions,” she muttered. “Knew it when you left. If a boy sees too much of the country, he’s never content around home. I wrote my sister-in-law, and she sent her two eldest up to help with the store.”
    â€œFor the summer?” Rat asked.
    â€œNo, they’ll stay on till they finish their schooling. Unless they run off on some fool cattle drive.”
    â€œAngry with me ’bout that, ma’am?”
    â€œNo, I couldn’t get very angry at you, Rat,” she confessed. “And the range has done you good. You’ve grown, and your color’s better. Knowing your father, I don’t suppose settled life ever would take with you.”
    â€œProbably not,” he agreed. “Still, I thought maybe you might could use me at the store a bit.”
    â€œLord, Rat, I’ve brought the boys down to tend counter. Gave them the upstairs room, too. I thought now you were working for Mr. Hanks you wouldn’t want to come back.”
    â€œWell, I can’t blame you for it ma’am. Guess I should’ve spoken with you. Mr. Hanks, he’s got his regular crew, you see. He might could put me on just the same.”
    â€œI’m certain he will. Mitch says you outride any other man in the county. If tending cows is what you want to do with your life, it’s best you got along with it.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    And so, after sharing a bite of lunch with the Morrises and spinning tales of the cattle drive, Rat remounted his horse and headed out to visit the county’s ranches. He met with poor results.
    â€œGlad you made it home, son,” Mr. Hanks said, “but you know I’ve got a full crew.”
    â€œI thought maybe since Payne’s arm … “
    â€œIt’s healed just fine, Rat. I might need a man this winter, but for now I’ve nothin’. I didn’t get my price in Dodge, you know. ’ftuth is I’m lettin’ men go, not takin’ any on.”
    â€œYessir,” Rat said, nodding sadly as he turned to go.
    It was much the same up and down the Brazos. Falling prices meant tightening belts. People would feed him in return for a bit of wood chopping, and a woman paid him to mend a fence and repair her pump. Down on the Colorado he helped raise a barn, and in Wood City the town doctor kept Rat busy painting a house.
    Rat