Pony Express Christmas by Sigmund Brouwer

Author:Sigmund Brouwer [Brouwer, Sigmund]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christmas, sigmund brouwer
Publisher: Sigmund Brouwer
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“Need some help?” Kentucky hollered from where he was squatted in front of the fire warming his hands.

“No, sir,” Jeremiah said. “This snow’s making it difficult for me to see what I’m doing.”

Jeremiah stood awkwardly at the side of the wagon. He’d glanced at the horses belonging to the men and now made sure to continue loudly enough for Kentucky to hear him. “Why don’t you go ahead and get a start on those beans. There’s plenty more and I’m digging for them right now, along with another pot and some tea for your brother.”

Kentucky didn’t waste any time getting started on the beans. He hadn’t eaten in a day and a half, and that had been the last of their buffalo jerky. He hadn’t eaten anything warm in near a week, not since they’d been on the run with the army horses.

“Hey, brother, save some for me.” This came from Reb, who had revived in the heat of the fire. “Those beans smell good.”

Jeremiah made plenty of noise as he dug through his supplies. He wished his rifle were down among the contents of the wagon instead of up on the buckboard, where both of these men would notice if he limped over to get it. Maybe Jeremiah was imagining things—it was a habit of his—but these two strangers rode horses with army brands, and they sure didn’t look military. Plus, there was the fact that the front of the man’s coat had been so dirty, like he’d been lying on his belly. Watching Jeremiah from up top the bank? Jeremiah wasn’t about to accuse them of anything, but he wished he weren’t crippled and that he carried a pistol. Especially with the promise he’d made to the Pony Express rider about guarding those mailbags.

Jeremiah took so long bent over and moving supplies around in the wagon that the big man shouted again.

“Hey, pards! Need help?”

“Just done now,” Jeremiah said. And he was.

Jeremiah finally retrieved a pot and scooped snow into it before hobbling back over to the fire.

“This ought to get your blood going again,” Jeremiah said to Reb. “I’ll brew some tea and add plenty of sugar.”

“Thanks,” Reb croaked. “You’re a good man.”

Kentucky frowned. He didn’t want Reb to get feeling too grateful. There was a job to be done tonight.

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