The Bookkeeper

2026 February Round-up Challenge

by jfclover

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Attention Ranchers:

Semi-Annual Horse Auction

June 26, 27

Downieville, Ca.

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It’s funny how things work out.  Hoss had seen the poster the last time he was in town for supplies, and though he wasn’t much for sitting a horse these days, he didn’t want Candy and me to miss out on things of importance, and this was one of those things. 

But, as it turned out, our foreman and I weren’t the ones to head west.  Hoss wasn’t the only one with ideas.  Candy had witnessed the fight my father and I had just yesterday, and he decided that a couple of Cartwrights needed to do some fence mending.  He was right, of course. 

Pa and I had been at odds for over a month.  There wasn’t much we disagreed on, but when it came to bookwork, we were always at odds.  I wanted my father to hire a bookkeeper, and he thought I’d lost my mind.  I hated the job, and Pa’s eyes weren’t what they used to be, so adding columns of figures had become a major inconvenience.  We could afford to employ a man to sit behind Pa’s desk twice a week and keep the books up to date, but my father thought it was not only frivolous, but the most preposterous idea he’d ever heard.  If I hadn’t been staring straight at him, I would’ve thought Adam had returned just to throw a few ten-dollar words in my face.

Bookwork was a subject the two of us would never agree on, and when Candy backed out, that meant my father and I would be making the trip to Downieville.  I wasn’t thrilled, and I doubt Pa was too happy either, but the next morning, we saddled our mounts and began our journey together.

The thought of riding the entire trip without speaking didn’t sit well, and I was the first to break the silence.  In fact, my father always said that carrying a grudge was a waste of time and that we should work out the problem and move on.  It was time I took his advice.  It was time to move on.

“How far do you think we’ll get today?”

Pa looked at me as though I’d asked a stupid question.  Maybe it was, but at least I tried to get a conversation started.  It would be one helluva journey if we rode in silence day after day after day.

“From what I remember, Cold Springs only has one hotel, but there’s a decent restaurant.  Good apple pie.”

“Yeah.  If I remember right, you had two pieces the last time we were there.”

“I think you’re right.”

“You could give Hoss a run for his money.

Pa chuckled.  “Your brother is one of a kind, Joseph.  None of us can compete with his appetite.”  My father acknowledged my smile, and though it was a silly conversation, it was a beginning.

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What I remembered most about Cold Springs was when I rode for the Pony Express.  A man named Boliver Robert built a stone structure to protect the riders from Indian attacks, but it was never used again after the stationmaster was killed and the horses were stolen. Things have changed since then.  It’s become a stopping point for weary travelers like Pa and me, and I’m grateful for that.

Ahead, a dust cloud filled the afternoon sky.  Men traveling fast made me nervous, but I didn’t know for sure who or what was headed our way.  I pulled Cochise to a halt and pointed in a northwesterly direction so Pa could see the same disturbance I saw.

“What do you think, Son?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

“Me either.  Let’s move toward that outcropping.”

I hoped our trip would be uneventful.  We’d ride to Downieville, purchase a new stallion, and ride home, but nothing was ever easy, not in the wilds of the untamed West.  We pulled our mounts up behind the pyramid of rocks and out of sight, but I wasn’t expecting what passed us by.

Young Paiute boys, maybe ten to twelve years old, were running a young calf—more than likely stolen from some rancher’s herd—toward their camp.  No one was chasing the boys, and we couldn’t give chase either.  One small calf would feed the entire camp, and since most of the deer and antelope had disappeared from the area, the natives were starving and didn’t have many choices.

When the threat was over, Pa and I headed out once again.  Cold Springs, with its hot meal and soft bed, was looking better all the time, but we needed to get moving.  We had mountains to climb and valleys and rivers to cross before we could sit back and enjoy a peaceable evening.

“I’ve been thinking, Joseph.”

“That’s always a good thing, Pa.”

“Yes, well, maybe you’re right.”

“Go on.”

“Finding a bookkeeper is a smart idea.”

If it were anyone else, I might think they were joking, but Pa wouldn’t joke about something that had been between us for so long.  Candy had been right.  Time together off the ranch did miracles for a man’s disposition.

“Do you really think so?  You’re not just being … I don’t know … generous?”  We’d both sensed fear when we saw the cloud of dust, and I had to wonder if that’s what tilted Pa’s decision in my direction.

“No.  I’m not being generous.  You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Son, and sometimes it’s hard for this old man to realize that he’s not the only one who can run the ranch properly.”

With our bookkeeper problem out of the way and Cold Springs on the horizon, I wanted to gallop my horse and yell, “Woohoo!”  Instead, I offered up a small gift for my father.  “Now that that’s settled, I’ll buy you the largest steak dinner Cold Springs has to offer.”

“It’s a deal, Joseph.”  I think I could out-eat your brother tonight.”

The End

2 – 2026