K.N. Casper - As Big As Texas

Kayla was sure there was a specific reason for her choice of words, but she let it pass, confident she’d learn what it was eventually.

“I stopped by, Mrs. Niebauer, to tell you how much I enjoy the Herald. You do such a wonderful job making it informative and friendly. I feel like a member of the community just reading it.”

The older woman preened. “Why thank you, dear, and call me Millie. Everybody does. We don’t have a big paper, but I do my best with it.”

“It shows. It’s really good. I noticed Ethan’s going to be moving his dad’s remains to the Broken Spoke. Is that common here in Texas, to bury family members on private property?”

“Oh, my, no. You have to obtain special permission from the state, but the Broken Spoke was in the Ritter family for well over a hundred years. His mama and sister are buried there, you know, along with other members of the family.”

Kayla was confused. “But I thought he just bought the place in the same land deal I did.”

“Well, yes, that’s true, but his family owned it before that.”

Kayla tilted her head. “I don’t understand.”

Millie smiled, please to be the source of fresh information. “I forget that everybody doesn’t know the history. Well, it started a dozen years ago now, when the K-bar-C went into bankruptcy after Clyde Braxton died. He was in his eighties by then and having a hard time keeping the place going. His children, the ungrateful lot…well, they weren’t any help. Spent money like it was going out of style. After he died, it did, too. Served them right, if you ask me, but it’s not for me to judge.”

She rearranged the announcement cards on the long counter between them, cards that had been on display for some time, considering the way they were yellowing around the edges.

“Anyway,” she continued, “when the place came up for sale at auction a bunch of the local ranchers decided to pool their resources and buy it. Ethan’s daddy, Zeb, merged the Broken Spoke into KC Enterprises, as they called their consortium, and, since his place was more or less in the middle of it all, he became the foreman. Did a good job, too, but times were against them.”

She went over to the end of the counter, poured coffee into two ceramic mugs emblazoned with Don’t Mess With Texas and handed Kayla one. “Don’t know how much you know about ranching—”

“Very little, I’m afraid,” Kayla conceded. And as Ethan had pointed out, nothing about horses.

“Well, it’s a hard life, despite all the glamour them fools out in Hollywood make it look like. Hard on men and harder on the women, if you ask me. There’s no oil around here, as you might have noticed, so you have to work for what you get.”

She sipped her coffee and made a face. “Reckon I need to make a fresh pot.”

She shoved the two cups aside, went to a small refrigerator behind a filing cabinet and brought over two soft drinks.

“These are the real Dr Pepper,” she said proudly. “Was up in Dallas last week and stopped off in Dublin. That’s the only plant still bottling the original recipe, using cane sugar instead of corn sweeteners.” She took a slug, smacked her lips and set the bottle on the counter.

“Things went fine for a couple of years,” she continued. “Like I said, old Zeb knew his stuff. Trouble is, the drought hit and they found themselves over-extended. The bank refused them any more credit.”

She leaned closer, as if anyone else were around. “Mind you, I don’t know if it’s true, but they say Clint Gallagher blocked them loans.”

“The state senator?”

“Can’t prove it, of course, and wouldn’t dare print a word of it, but that’s what some folks say. Anyway, KC Enterprises went bottom up two years ago. You would’ve expected the place to go on the auction block again, but Miranda convinced the city council to foreclose for taxes and take it over.”

“And that’s the land being given away now,” Kayla concluded.

“Yep. Old Clint wasn’t too happy about it, I can tell you. Probably figured he had a right to pick the spread up for a song and back taxes and add it to his empire.”

“So what happened to Ethan’s father?”

“Lost the Broken Spoke when KC Enterprises went bust. By then his wife and daughter had passed on. His oldest son, Jud, had moved off to greener pastures years before. Zeb and Ethan leased a dinky little place on the edge of town. Ethan worked real hard to make a go of it, buying and selling horses, training them. But it was all too much for Zeb. He started drinking pretty heavy. Last year he committed suicide. Shot himself. Ethan’s the one that found him.”

Losing a loved one was hard enough. Finding him dead had to be even worse. But suicide! Survivors were inevitably plagued by self-doubt, forever wondering what they should have done to prevent it.

“Ethan wanted his daddy to be buried on the ranch with his other kin, but the family no longer had legal claim to the land, so his request was denied. I reckon that’s why he chose that particular parcel to buy. He grew up in that house, you know. A lot of memories on that land, and of course the graveyard where his ma and sister are buried.”

“It’s a sad story,” Kayla said.

Millicent nodded. “I hope laying his daddy to rest there will bring them both some peace.”

ETHAN’S NIGHT was filled with memories, mostly sad. Even the few that were happy were clouded by melancholy foreshadowing.

If only I’d been able to get you to hang on a little while longer, Dad. Ethan lay in the shadowy darkness of his old room. I’ve gotten our house back and at least a little of the land. The stable’s doing real well now, too, making a decent profit, even after I gave Carter and Luella a pay raise. They’re happy to be home, too.

Now, with the Broken Spoke homeplace back, he had the facilities to board a dozen horses in addition to his own. In fact he had a waiting list of people who wanted to keep their horses there. He was starting to turn a nice profit buying and selling horses, too. In another year or so he figured he’d be able to build another barn, one that was bigger and better.

He rose as dawn was coloring the sky pink and found Luella already sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee clasped between her work-worn hands. More unusual was Carter being there, as well. The old man took his noon and evening meals with them, but he tended to keep to himself in the morning. Ethan doubted they’d slept much the night before, either.

Today would be as difficult for these two people as it would be for him. He poured himself a cup of the hot, bitter brew and joined them.

“Crew’ll be here at ten to dig the grave,” he announced. “Casket at two.”

A small grunt from Carter was the only response.

After a few minutes, Luella asked, “You let Jud know?”

Ethan had thought about contacting his brother, but Jud hadn’t come home after their father died last year, so this second burial wouldn’t mean anything to him, either.

To be fair, Jud had been in the hospital in Austin recovering from an injury when he got the word of their father’s death, but he could have come home later. Ethan tried not to resent his brother for staying away. Maybe he was even grateful he hadn’t shown up. He didn’t need to see the accusation in his brother’s eyes to feel another stab of guilt.

“No,” he said.

Neither made any comment.

“There was a notice in the Herald,” Luella said a few minutes later. “People will want to pay their respects.”

Ethan shook his head. “I wish Millie would mind her own damn business.”

Carter grunted. “Her old man would go broke if she did. Only reason anybody reads that rag is for the gossip. The CIA could take pointers from her on confidential sources.”