Rusty

Copyright © 2006 by Susan Long Quainton.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2006907607

ISBN 10:   Hardcover   1-4257-3064-7

   Softcover                1-4257-3063-9

ISBN 13:   Hardcover   978-1-4257-3064-2

   Softcover             978-1-4257-3063-5

   eBook                978-1-4691-2271-7

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Contents

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

NOTE ON THE TEXT

EDITOR’S NOTES

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Cover Photo: View over Camas Prairie from crest of the hill where Mt. Idaho school once stood

1. Lela in her early teens 15

2. View from the crest of Mt. Idaho hill 25

3. Elk City (by permission, Bicentennial Historical

Museum, Grangeville, Idaho) 41

4. Mt. Idaho jail (by permission, Bicentennial Historical

Museum, Grangeville, Idaho) 45

5. Mt. Idaho 1880 (by permission, Bicentennial Historical

Museum, Grangeville, Idaho) 69

6. Mt. Idaho today 70

7. Lela’s Teacher’s Certificate 99

8. Downtown Cottonwood (by permission, Bicentennial

Historical Museum, Grangeville, Idaho) 109

9. Joe in uniform 123

10. Joe Rustemeyer’s enlistment papers 155

11. Joe’s medal for special service in the Philippines 159

12. Los Angeles Express article, February 16, 1922 160

13. Lela and Joe 169

CHAPTER I

MT. IDAHO

It was one of those fall days when you felt you could reach out and touch the mountains. Lela sat between Mama and Papa on the front seat of the buggy, looking toward the Bitterroot Range. Above the snow-capped summits the sky was so clear and blue that she thought she could have seen right through to heaven, if her eyes had been good enough. Below the mountains, Camas Prairie stretched like an inland sea of brown and tan. Glorying in the journey on such a morning, Lela almost forgot that she was going away from home, going away from Papa and Mama.

What had seemed like a pipe-dream only months ago was now a reality. Uncle Jess had been elected Sheriff of Idaho County. He had moved to Mt. Idaho, the county seat, and just as soon as their Cottonwood ranch was sold, Aunt Ruey and Verner had followed him. Now, he was making good on the promise that, if he were elected, Lela could come and live with them. There was a high school in Mt. Idaho, and she would be able to go on into the 9th Reader. The 8th Reader was the highest class in Cottonwood, and when she had finished it the previous June, she had thought she might never get to go to school any more.

But here she was, riding along in the buggy hired from the livery stable, actually on her way to high school! She and Mama had been sewing furiously to get her ready, and the dresses, petticoats, and underwear they had made were now packed in the trunk tied securely to the back of the buggy. Her books were in the trunk as well, but some of the heavy outerwear she would need for winter hadn’t fit in and had been made into a separate parcel. What with all the last-minute preparations, she hadn’t let it sink in that she was leaving the house with the red shutters, leaving her precious organ, leaving her parents. Now the word leaving seemed repeated with every turn of the buggy wheels. Almost as if she could hear Lela thinking, Mama said, Well, Lela, I’m glad you’ve already had some practice living away from home. Remember that winter, back in Oregon, when you went down to Canyon City to study with Reverend Eads?

I guess I did learn something about being away, but I can tell you, I didn’t learn much else. Reverend Eads was supposed to be teaching us Latin, but I can’t remember a word. If only he’d been like old Head-in-the-Clouds, I don’t think I’d have wasted my time the way I did.

Mama and Papa were used to hearing Lela refer to her Cottonwood teacher, Mr. Hayes, by the nickname Head-in-the-Clouds. They knew she admired him tremendously and was not being discourteous, so they did not correct her when she said it. Papa simply remarked, I wouldn’t call it time wasted. In addition to independence, you learned reverence for the church, and you learned to be polite and respectful to all kinds of people.

You and Mama taught me all that, she said. I just had a good time mostly. Susie Eads was always doing something funny—well, maybe not always funny. Every night she put hot bricks in our beds to keep our feet warm. One time she made them so hot they set the bed on fire. Her mother smelled the smoke from the smoldering feathers and put the fire out before it blazed.

This time, Mama said, you can warm your own bricks—so be careful.

Another thing that’s different this time, said Lela, looking gratefully at Mama, I’m taking a whole trunkful of lovely new clothes!

By the end of the morning, they had traveled fifteen miles from Cottonwood and arrived at the single, long street that made up the town of Mt. Idaho. As the buggy turned into the street, they came upon Verner, sitting on his buckskin pony and keeping a sharp lookout for them. The moment he saw them, he stood up in his stirrups and called out, Welcome to Gold Rush Gulch! Beware of the Sheriff. He’s on the prowl.

Verner then rode alongside the buggy, escorting them down the street. And soon they caught sight of Uncle Jess, hurrying up the street from his office a couple of blocks away. Lela didn’t see anything that looked like a family house. All the buildings seemed to be businesses or stores, and none of them had numbers. But here was Verner stopping at a two-story building, with wide covered porches both upstairs and down, which glistened with fresh white paint. And here was Aunt Ruey running out the front door to meet them.

Laughing at Lela’s puzzled expression, she said, I think you can tell that this place used to be offices downstairs and a dance hall, of all things, upstairs. But it has plenty of room and makes a nice house when you get a few homey things in it.

A few was a bit of an understatement, since the living room was so big that it held, in addition to the old furniture from the ranch, two lounges, a daybed, and several rocking chairs. One of these stood near an enormous round heating stove, which gave out a pleasant warmth. The air in Mount Idaho was nippy already, for the town stood near the Bitterroot Range, and only the deep gorge of the Clearwater River lay between it and the foothills of those high mountains.

For a moment everyone seemed to be talking at once, but as soon as there was a lull, Verner took Lela aside to show her her room, just off the living room. Now dig in, he said. Here’s your den.

There was a sturdy shelf on the wall for books. Aunt Ruey had strung a wire across one corner of the room and hung a calico curtain on it; the space behind made a little closet for her clothes. On the walls, inside the closet and out, were hooks and nails for hanging things on. On the bed, a plump eiderdown was covered with a quilt which Aunt Ruey had pieced by hand. Pleased by the pretty room, Lela hastened to unpack her things and, with Mama’s help, put them away.

The family all ate a quick dinner. In fact, it seemed they had only just sat down when Papa got up from the table and said, Rovie and I had better get back in that buggy, if we’re to make it home to Cottonwood by dark.

Lela hardly trusted her voice to say good bye. When Mama called out from the buggy, Be sure you mind Aunt Ruey and help her every way you can! Lela only nodded mutely to show she was promising to do so.

The buggy rattled down the street and disappeared onto the high prairie. How can I stay here all winter? thought Lela to herself. Why did I ever want to come in the first place? All I want to do is go home, right now.

Just as she thought the tears must surely come, she heard Aunt Ruey’s voice calling from the kitchen, Lela, if you’re not too tired, how’d you like to bake a couple of pies for supper?

Why, Aunt Ruey, I’d love to. What kind shall I make?

Well, you can’t go wrong on apple at this time of year.

Working in the kitchen made life seem brighter, and it felt like old days on the Dixon ranch when Verner teased, If you burn those pies, or the crust is tough, out you go. I’ve a notion to fire you right now, for luck.

You just bring in the wood, smarty, Lela retorted, and I’ll bake the pies. How many did you say, Auntie?

It’ll take two at least, Aunt Ruey said. I forgot to tell you: we have a couple of boarders. Seems it’s usual for the Deputy Sheriff and the Jailer to live with the Sheriff, and, as you can see, this house is plenty big enough. The two of them are half-brothers and actually older than any of us. Mac Williams is the Deputy, and Gid is the Jailer. I’m sure you’ll like them.

That evening when the two of them came in, Lela did like them, although she stood a bit in awe of Mac and found it easier to be around Gid. Mac had a firm and serious mouth below his graying moustache. Although his dark hair was streaked with gray, his tall, spare body looked strong and fit. Gid, the younger brother, was heavier than Mac, but just as tall. What little hair he had left was blond, and he combed it very carefully over his balding head. Since he did not wear either a beard or a moustache, Lela could see how pleasant his mouth was, always ready to smile.

Lela had expected that they would all eat together, but, as soon as the two men came in, they sat down by themselves at the table and Aunt Ruey served them their supper. They ate quietly and then hurried away. Uncle Jess had insisted on this arrangement, so that, when he came home, he could have his meal with the family.

It’s a pretty good plan, I’d say, commented Verner. Lela’s pies got tried out on Mac and Gid. Since together they ate half a pie, I guess what’s left will be safe for us to eat.

If you begin to pick on Lela, Son, you can’t have any pie.

Don’t worry, Dad, she can take care of herself plenty. And besides, I saw her bake three pies. After you’re gone, I’ll sneak half a pie for myself.

Watch your step, said Uncle Jess. Remember, I am the Law.

After supper, Uncle Jess sat with his feet on the bar of the big round stove and picked the banjo. Laughter and music in the warm room made Lela feel completely at home as she helped Aunt Ruey clean up the kitchen.

Lela in her early teens

CHAPTER II

HIGH SCHOOL

Monday morning Lela was up before anyone else to get ready for her first day of high school. It sounded grand, and yet she felt as young and scared as she had the first day she had walked into her new schoolroom in Cottonwood, a year and a half ago. That turned out to be a wonderful school, she reminded herself, so buck up, Lela, and don’t be so nervous.

She had put on her new stockings, her new school shoes, and her new underwear. She was fastening her petticoat—the last layer before she would pull on her new school dress—when, Drat! she muttered. The hook that fastened her petticoat at the waist came loose just as she was fitting the eye into it. Guiltily, she remembered rushing to finish her sewing before they had set out for Mt. Idaho. The hooks and eyes on her petticoat had been her last job. She must not have sewn over and over enough times at the end, and now the stitches on one hook were almost undone. For a moment she was tempted to save the repair until the evening, since the other hooks and eyes seemed to be holding fast, but