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"It doesn't even resemble you."
"I know, I guess you think I’m pretty silly. I mean, if you hadn't been such a nice person, this might have turned out very badly."
"It's not the word I'd use, but it does come close."
"Well, now that I've settled this mystery I'll be on my way. But, listen, next time you write someone like that, wait until you are older, and tell the truth." He suggested. "It'll cause a lot less trouble for everyone."
"Yes, of course, you aren't going to stay and tell my parents?" she frowned.
"No, I wouldn't do that to anyone. It's nice meeting you, what's your real name?"
"Carol Collins."
"Nice to meet you both, and your letters were extremely well written. Save it for when you are older." He winked and left.
As he was leaving, he heard Daisy tell the maid, "Not a word to our parents, understand?"
The maid hollered, "I don't know nothing, but you better not do this again, whatever you were doing!"
"Yes ma'am," Daisy and Carol replied, waving at him as he left out the door and smiling.
"He's gorgeous." Daisy cried, and he turned to look at her with a big smile.
He shook his head and headed for town. He needed a good meal and some rest, so he checked into a nice old hotel and had a big supper, then went to bed. It was hard to believe that two young girls could write such wonderful letters. Still, he was glad in some ways. He didn't have to confront an irate Priscilla and explain how he married another. They'd never know what a bind they got him out of. And this would certainly be something to entertain the boys on the drive.
Train rides could be tedious, and he wasn't looking forward to the next few days.
He couldn't wait to tell Trudy what had happened. He still couldn't believe he fell for such a thing. It wasn't the girls that seemed stupid to him now, it was himself. He swallowed everything they wrote. It was a wonder they didn't laugh in his face.
He hoped Trudy didn't laugh. He'd really fallen for those letters; they were entertaining and well written. He knew instinctively if he told their parents, those girls would have been in a lot of trouble, and he didn't want to do that to them.
Chapter Eighteen
Taking the train back, Lance deliberated whether to go by the ranch and tell Trudy about his Boston visit. Still, he was late now getting back to the herd. But making her wait three to six months to hear the news seemed cruel.
He still had a hard time believing that he hadn't caught on to the stunt beforehand. He remembered how scared Carol Collins looked and how ashamed Daisy seemed. Still, when he left them, and didn't tell their parents he knew they would be grateful.
Knowing he had to get back to the herd, Lance decided to ride hard to catch up with the herd then he'd take the time to get a letter off to Trudy when he stopped at Ft. Reno.
He made his first camp just this side of the Red River and caught a rabbit with a home-made contraption and roasted him for his supper. He was tired and hungry and didn't waste any time getting some sleep. Since it was getting hot now, he'd get up early and travel just before dawn.
That next morning, he ran into a small Arapaho party who asked if he had any whiskey, when he told them no, they eyed him suspiciously then moved on. He knew they were a renegade tribe that was probably dodging the army. He did his best to be friendly and offered them some jerky he'd bought at a previous settlement. They took most of it and gave him a set of beads and a blanket. He thanked them and went on his way.
The Red River looked low and he ferried across it. The man that operated the ferry was Red Davis and he told him they were having an early drought.
"Well, I certainly hope we get some rain," Lance told him. "I got a herd to move through and water can always be a problem."
"Out here, when we got a drought going, we usually get a gully washer sooner or later. And that can be bad too.
Lance couldn't help but worry about the herd. Water was a commodity that was very important not only to the herd but the men who drove them.
He knew the men traveling with the herd would do everything they could to find water.
He ran into a sheriff's posse later that same day and they were shooting it out with some outlaws. They saw him and detained him, questioning him on what his business was. When they found out he was a cattlemen bent on catching up with his herd, they let him go. The Sheriff eyed him suspiciously though until he was out of sight. The man was an untrusting soul, Lance thought to himself. He didn't stick around to find out how the shoot-out was going to go.
Oklahoma territory was a dangerous area, not only because of renegade Indians, but land jumpers and outlaws escaping from Kansas and Texas to hide close to the Indian camps.
