Page 253 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“Son, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Grover extended his hand to Felix.
Felix hoped Mr. Sterling missed his shocked expression. “Yes, sir.” Felix accepted the proffered hand.
An imposing man with a deep, booming voice and a friendly face described Mr. Sterling. At what had to be six-foot-five, he stood taller than either Cornelius at six feet or Felix at five-ten. His broad shoulders and muscled arms told Felix he could take care of himself in a fight.
“I think you will enjoy your stay at the ranch with the missus and me for the summer.” The handshake was warm and friendly. His voice carried no threat. “My son Joseph will teach you about ranching. He’s a fine horseman and cowboy and is excited about having someone to help him. The work will toughen you up, son, and by the end of the summer, you will be ready to come back and work with your father.”
Toughening up didn’t sound fun. Felix visualized hard labor with shackles around his ankles to keep him from running away. Perhaps fat cow Emmaline deserved a second thought. “I look forward to the opportunity, sir.” Felix released the handshake, aware of the lie he told. He never lied, but to preserve the calm atmosphere, he figured it best not to be honest with his father or Mr. Sterling.
“Fine. Let’s get going. You pack a bag, and I’ll meet you at the carriage when you’re ready.”
Something about Mr. Sterling’s deep voice reassured Felix. He glanced up to see a smile. “Yes, sir.” Felix hurried up the stairs.
In his room, he grabbed a carpetbag and stuffed it with underclothes, cotton socks, shirts, and trousers. He added his razor, shaving mug, and a brush for his hair. He picked up the diary that his sister, Helen, had given him for Christmas. A unique gift, it remained unused. But faced with an uncertain summer full of hard labor, he decided he might want to write down his experiences while at the ranch. He also added the Conan Doyle book to his bag, figuring he could read if he weren't too tired from all the toughening up Mr. Sterling had mentioned. Sitting on the bed, he tugged on his boots. Ranchers wore boots, right? His best shoes beckoned from the closet, but those would be useless on a ranch. He didn’t think anyone wore shoes to ride horses, at least not in West Texas. He glanced around the only room he ever knew and wondered if he would occupy this room again. Downstairs, he dropped his bag and hat by the front door before going into the kitchen to say goodbye to his mother. “Father is sending me away for the summer.”
Hattie touched his arm. “Your father told me, Felix. I know this is a surprise, but your father thinks it’s best if you work on Mr. Sterling’s ranch. The break will do you good.” She handed him a couple of small items of wrapped paper. “Sandwiches for your ride.”
Felix took the sandwiches. “Thank you, Mother. Tell Helen, Margaret, and Winston, I will miss them.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek as she hugged him.
“Do you not wish to tell them goodbye?”
Felix shook his head. “No. I'm surprised Father is sending me away. They will want the reason I am leaving, and I do not have an answer.”
“I understand.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Goodbye, Felix.”
His father waited by the front door. Felix shook his outstretched hand. “Goodbye, Father.”
“I’ll be keeping up with your progress, son. Make me proud.”
“Yes, Father.” Felix hoped for any sign of encouragement in his father’s expression but found none. Despite the difficulty getting along with his father, he never thought his reluctance to take Emmaline as a wife would result in his dismissal from the family. He sighed, picked up his bag, put on his hat, and walked out the door to an uncertain summer.
Chapter Three - 2011
Standing in the dusty basement, Rod surveyed the untouched contents of the opened trunk. A horse blanket guarded the mysterious treasure. He glanced at Wyl. “Let’s take the trunk upstairs. It's too dirty down here to unload the trunk.”
“Good idea, babe.” Wyl lowered the lid on the potential treasure. “You grab your end and follow me up the stairs.”
Wyl tilted the trunk until Rod slid his hands underneath before picking up his end. They climbed, boots clomping on one step at a time, Wyl pulling and Rod pushing as they made their way up.
Wyl backed into the dining room on the ground floor with Rod following. Rod took Wyl’s cue, and they set the trunk on the floor at the end of the long dining table,
“Whew, lugging the trunk was harder than I thought.” Wyl tugged a handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe his brow. “You want a beer? I’ll grab us a couple of cold bottles.”
“Sure, babe. Thanks.” Rod tugged his handkerchief out of his pocket and ran it across his forehead, eying the trunk.
Wyl came in and handed him a bottle. “Let’s unfold what mysteries this old trunk holds.”
Rod lifted the lid and gazed at the saddle blanket. He set his beer bottle on the table, then slid one hand under the blanket, one on top, and lifted it out. Loose items within the folded blanket shifted and fell to the dining table. He laid the blanket on the table and gazed at the fallen objects: a book and a couple of small, faded green cardboard folders.
“What do you suppose those are?” Wyl nodded toward the cardboard objects.
“I’m not sure. Photographs?” Rod picked up the book. “And this may be a diary or a ledger or something.” He laid it back on the table and picked up one of the green folders. On the back,Joeywritten with a pencil. He opened to a picture of a handsome young man.
Wyl leaned over with a hand on Rod’s shoulder. “I wonder who Joey was?”
“I don’t know.” Rod closed the folder and picked up the other one. On the back,Felixwritten in pencil. Rod opened the folder. Another handsome young man stared back at them.
“Felix.” Wyl squeezed Rod’s shoulder. “Your middle name.”
