Free Santa Fe Woman by Gilbert Morris Page A

you’re Rocklin.”
    “Yes, sir, I am.”
    “My sister-in-law and my daughter are cooking breakfast. I expect you’re hungry.”
    “I pretty well stay that way, Mr. Hayden.”
    “Well, come along. It ought to be about ready.”
    Mark asked as they turned to go in, “What time did you get in?”
    “Middle of the night sometime. It was a pretty tiring trip.”
    “He’s got a big red horse whose name is Red. Will you let me ride him, Rocklin?”
    “Mr. Rocklin,” Leland said at once.
    “Mr. Rocklin, will you let me ride him?”
    “Maybe you can ride with me. Red’s kind of particular. He throws nearly everybody off.”
    “Even you?”
    “Even me, sometimes.”
    As they entered the dining room, the first person Rocklin saw was Jori Hayden. She was putting a pan of biscuits on the table, and she flushed slightly when she saw him. “Good morning, Miss Hayden. I hope you slept well.”
    “Well—yes, I did.”
    At that moment Kate came out the door and Leland said at once, “This is my sister-in-law, Katherine Johnson.”
    “Just call me Kate. I don’t believe I heard your first name,” Kate said.
    “Chad.”
    “Well, sit down, everybody. The food’s all ready.”
    “You sit here by me, Mr. Rocklin,” Carleen said.
    Rocklin moved over to the chair and waited until the two women had the food on the table and then the men all sat down. Leland said, “We’re used to saying a blessing over the food.”
    “A good habit,” Rocklin said pleasantly.
    They all bowed their heads, and Leland asked a quick blessing. As soon as it was over, Carleen started bombarding Rocklin with questions, usually calling him just Rocklin and being corrected by her father.
    The breakfast was scrambled eggs, grits, fried potatoes, and biscuits.
    “Best meal I’ve had in a long time, Miss Kate. You’re a good cook.”
    “Anybody can scramble eggs,” Kate said.
    “Not everybody can make biscuits, though.”
    The meal went pleasantly enough, but Jori said hardly a word. Finally, as they were sipping coffee, toward the end of the meal, Mark said, “Rocklin, have you ever led a train to Santa Fe?”
    “No, I never have.”
    A stunned look crossed Mark’s face. He turned to his father. “How can we hire a man who’s never led a single train?”
    “Al Blanchard recommended you, but he didn’t say you had never led a train.”
    “Oh, I’ve been on several of them, usually as a scout. Did a bit of mule skinning, but I’ve never actually been the wagon master.”
    Kate said, “Tell us about yourself. Mr. Blanchard wouldn’t have recommended you unless he believed in you.”
    Rocklin sipped his coffee and held up the cup. “Mighty tiny cup. I’m used to big mugs. It’ll take a lot of these to fill me up.”
    At once Kate got up, took his cup and went out into the kitchen. She came back with a big mug and said, “How’s this?”
    “That’s just about right.” He sipped the coffee and said, “I guess you do need to know a little about me. Al didn’t tell you much?”
    “Not much except you’ve been in the West all your life.”
    “My parents were farmers. They were killed in a Comanche raid when I was twelve years old.”
    Jori looked up, shock on her face. “How awful,” she whispered. “What happened to you? Who kept you?”
    “Well, the Comanches did for four years.”
    “The Comanches! You were a captive?”
    “I was practically a Comanche. You either get that way or die.”
    “Then you probably learned how to speak their language.”
    “Had to do that, Mr. Hayden. Picked up a spattering of all the languages of the tribes, the Kiowa, the Pawnee.”
    “Did you escape?”
    “Yes, I did. We were on a raiding party, and I slipped away. After that I bumped around, did a lot of things. Drove a wagon, as I said. Trapped beaver in the mountains for a year. Soldiered in the dragoons for awhile. Mostly I just traveled around the West. It’s about all I know.”
    They all sat there entranced as Rocklin spoke