offered Whitt a cup of coffee.
“Thank you. Your ma and pa were fine people, as good as they come. I didn’t know them well . . . wish I did.”
Clint caught his reference in the past tense, but he didn’t comment.
“Have you seen other folks on this trail?” Whitt asked.
“Yeah, several families. I stopped long enough to talk to a few, and they were coming from La Grange.”
Whitt nodded. “I heard that the fever has ended in a few towns, people are returning and things are getting back to normal. I hope that happens in La Grange. We only lived there five years, but we considered it our home and we’d like to go back.” Whitt glanced at his boys. “I want them to be near their ma so they never forget her.”
“We’d never forget Ma,” Bo replied.
“Show Mr. Mitchum her likeness, Pa.” Boone looked up at Clint and said, “Our ma was real pretty.”
Clint smiled at him. “I bet she was.”
Pulling his watch from his pocket, Whitt snapped it open and held it out to Clint.
Clint stared at the yellowed image of a young, unsmiling woman with dark hair and average-looking features. She wasn’t a raving beauty, but Clint figured she must have been a wonderful mother to raise these two fine boys. “You sure were lucky to have such a good mother. I know you will never forget her.”
Clint thought Whitt was a few years older than himself, and while they’d lived different lives, he admired Whitt for settling down and having children. Actually, he envied Whitt, even though it was going to be tough for him raising two boys without his wife. There was a time Clint thought he would be married by now with a couple of children. That seemed like an eternity ago. Clint glanced at the boys and saw they were staring at him as they gulped their food. He winked at them. “Now, how do I tell the two of you apart?”
One of the boys pointed to himself. “I’m Bo. I have a cowlick on this side.” He pointed to the left side of his head. “Boone’s cowlick is on the other side.”
“We don’t care if you get us confused; everybody does,” Boone added. “Sometimes we even fool Pa.”
Clint chuckled. “I can see how that would be easy to do.” Clint listened to the boys chatter as they finished their meal. Answering all their questions took his mind off his own troubles. He enjoyed seeing smiles on their faces as he told them stories about rounding up wild horses and training them for the military.
“Pa’s good with horses,” Boone stated proudly. “He taught us how to take care of Sugar and Britches.”
“It’s important to take good care of your animals.” Clint gave Whitt a thoughtful look. He imagined Whitt had been through so much heartache that he couldn’t see a brighter future right now. But Clint knew how important it was for a man to keep his dreams. Thinking about what his mother had written in her letter—Working with God’s creatures is good for the soul. Clint thought he could share her wisdom by offering Whitt a ray of hope. “Maybe when the fever is gone from La Grange, you could come back and work with horses on your ranch.”
Whitt chewed his biscuit as he thought about Clint’s remark. “Maybe so.”
“It’s a decent living, and I never ran out of horses to train. Of course, it might be a nice change of pace to pan for gold. You never know, you might strike it big.”
The boys finally came to the end of their questions, settled down on their bedrolls and quickly fell asleep. Clint stoked the fire as Whitt covered the boys with blankets. “I’m sure they’re a handful, but they are fine boys.”
Whitt smiled wistfully at his boys. “They are good boys. They were crazy about their ma. She was a wonderful mother and wife. I don’t know what we are going to do without her.”
Clint felt a lump growing in his throat listening to Whitt describe his loss. He didn’t imagine one would ever get over something like that, particularly when you had two little reminders with you every day.
* * *
By daybreak, Clint had already packed most of his provisions on Whitt’s horses. When Whitt and the boys awoke, Clint had a warm meal prepared for them. “We have fresh biscuits and bacon for breakfast this morning.”
Bo rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “It smells good.”
“It sure does,” Boone agreed.
Whitt