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“And you’ve been here since?”
“Yes. Worked traps for a while, learned to build cabins from a friend of Odell and Ben Lee, then got into the business of lumber because it was needed.”
“Family?”
The question made him smile fondly. “Sent away for a mail-order bride. A sweet little brown-skinned beauty named Molly responded. Loved her like summer sunshine. We were married five years before she died birthing our twins, a boy and a girl.”
“My condolences.”
“Thanks. Sent away for another bride. She was pretty, just like my Molly, but inside she was ugly as the devil. I came home from the mill one evening and found a bruise on my son’s face the size of my fist. She said she’d punished him for not eating his supper.”
Garrett was appalled. “How old was he?”
“Three. She didn’t like my twins. Wanted me to send them away so we could raise children that were hers. The next day I drove her to the train station, bought her a ticket, and left her there. Don’t know where she went. Didn’t much care.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Wasn’t sorry to see her go, and neither were my twins.”
On the far bank Garrett spotted deer drinking from the river, but the animals looked stronger and more robust than the ones at home.
“They’re elk,” Mr. James explained. “In the fall, their antlers can grow three, four feet across. They use them to fight over who gets the ladies. You can hear them bashing each other for miles.”
Garrett found that fascinating. “This is a truly beautiful place.”
“I agree. It’s one of the reasons I stayed. Winters aren’t much fun, but once spring comes you forget all about how cold you’ve been.”
“What’s it been like living here as a man of the race?”
“Haven’t had too much trouble. You run into prejudice every now and then just like any other place else, but folks here are generally too busy surviving to worry about what color you are.”
“Does your family live nearby?”
“Daughter is in Denver. She’s married and has three boys. We lost her brother ten years ago. He was laying track for the railroad and got crushed beneath a load of steel that fell.”
“My condolences on losing your son.”
“Thanks.”
They arrived at the mill a short time later. The barnlike building made of wood weathered gray by the elements and time was set on the riverbank. Like many old mills it was powered by water. Waiting nearby were a few men on wagons and horseback.
They were put to work cleaning the conveyors, checking for breaks in the heavy steel chains, and repairing the many internal joists and platforms. Garrett spent his time hammering in new wooden supports for some of the blades and adding new two-by-fours to the dock where the cut trees entered the building. Ten men had been recruited, all strangers to him except for Odell, Moss Denby, and saloon owner Heath Leary. The men he didn’t knowwere a bit standoffish at first, but by the time they broke for lunch to eat the sandwiches sent to the mill by Dovie, he was included in the laughter, joking, and assistance they extended to each other.
After lunch a large man wearing a buffalo coat arrived. As he left his wagon and approached, Garrett sensed the atmosphere change from loose and easygoing to a guarded wariness.
Moss Denby, who was working beside Garrett on the dock, glanced the man’s way and said, “That’s Ben Lee.”
A surprised Garrett studied Spring’s grandfather, noting his height, girth, shaggy gray hair and beard, and that his presence was commanding. What little Garrett knew about the man could fit on the head of a pin and he wanted to know more, not only for the newspaper article but also for the reasons behind the estrangement with his granddaughter. The urge to go over and introduce himself was strong. He paused, however, choosing to wait and watch instead.
Odell solved the issue by bringing Ben Lee over to meet Garrett. After the introductions were done, Garrett said, “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Eyes sharp with disapproval, the imposing Lee studied him silently.
Garrett continued, “I’d like to interview you for my article, if I might.”
“Got nothing to say.” And he walked off.
Odell observed the retreat with a shake of his head. “Sorry.”
