River James and Saturday

forever.

PART I

THE RESCUE

Dawn came with a soft light, as River and George talked about their departure. Just as they finished packing their small amount of gear, they heard the sound of rapid hoof beats coming toward them around an outcropping of rock. Both men reacted together, each taking a side of the narrow entrance to their camp. A dark horse suddenly appeared, with a small figure clinging to the saddle, then it sprang into the opening. Without hesitation, both men grabbed the horse and rider drawing them further into the three-sided enclosure. Quickly covering the horse's nostrils and putting his hands on its bridle, River managed to bring the plunging horse to a halt. Wrapping strong arms around the rider, he threw a saddle blanket over the struggling form and dragged it to the ground.

The horse jerked back, turned tail, and plunged back the way it had come. Both men held the captive down. Suddenly the writhing stopped. They looked into each other’s eyes with surprise and bewilderment. Slowly, they both peeled back a portion of the blanket to encounter smoldering brown-black eyes under a wild mane of black hair. Without a moment's hesitation, the sharp white teeth of the captive clamped down on River's right hand. With a yelp of pain, he jerked back, but not before those same teeth found his other hand. River yelled with anguish as the skin broke and blood spurted from the wound.

Damn! What the hell?

By this time, George managed to seize the wiggling body, flip it over and place one strong knee on its back side.

No...No...por favor, it screamed. This was followed by a mixture of Spanish and guttural language spat out of the grimacing, snarling mouth. They were both so surprised that they let loose of the downed figure and stumbled back a couple of feet. Lifting the tangle of black hair from its face, it glared back at both of them before turning and springing lithely upright. Gripped in each small hand was a sharp knife apparently hidden in the captive’s boots! Body crouching, the leather clad figure moved its hands in small circles, then backed up against the mountain wall.

Well, I'll be damned! yelled River. A female. What the hell are you doing here?

As the two men backed away, they exchanged a quick look of dismay. Warily, they eyed the glinting steel of the circling knives. In English and halting Spanish, they asked who she was and what she was doing here? She angrily shook her head, swishing the long streaming locks.

No, comprendo! she slowly murmured with narrowed eyes locked on both men.

Next, George tried a mixture of Indian dialect along with what little Spanish he knew. The girl stood stock still and then reacted in a way that both men later attributed to shock. She swayed and collapsed into a little heap right at their feet.

My God! they both exclaimed in unison.

Just as they both knelt beside her, they heard the beat of several horses pounding toward them just a few hundred yards away. Snatching up their weapons, they turned as a team and dived on each side of the opening as a swirl of horseflesh and flashing silver saddles emerged before them. Above the jangling of harness and spurs, a blood-curdling scream split the air as a small dark-faced man, apparently, the leader of the pack raised his firearm and started firing. Without hesitation, the two friends returned fire as a hail of bullets ricocheted off the sides of the enclosure. The sudden attack completely surprised and unmanned the surging group. They wheeled their small Spanish horses and fled with backward glances of outrage and contempt.

We better move before they come back! yelled George. River complied by slinging his gear onto his left shoulder, then looked down at the girl on the ground. What about her? yelled George. River hesitated, then rolled the girl into the saddle blanket and picked up the slight form throwing it across his broad right shoulder. He adjusted his backpack and kicked her two knives aside.

Quickly, George picked up the remaining smaller pack and started due north opposite their attacker's direction. He favored his left side.

In their moccasin covered feet, they traversed the rocky ground for several hundred yards, then entered the swiftly moving stream. Leaving no trace, they made their escape. River hardly seemed to feel his slight burden and continued at a steady pace for the next several miles. At that point, he turned to wait for George to catch up and said, Now what?

Beats me! I just know that I don't want to meet up with that last group again, and I'm not sure about what you're carrying either! said George, breathing heavily.

Picking up his burden again, River struggled along with his hands full trying to keep his balance until they came to a series of ledges over which water rushed. Stepping into the water again, they slogged along for several miles, obliterating any sign of tracks.

Getting their bearings, they turned and headed northwest. River paused to reposition the girl's body in front of him to get a better grip when suddenly she came to life, kicking him so hard in the stomach that he stumbled and went down hard. With a grunt, he tried to roll free of her, but she had somehow managed to leap on his back with both hands in his hair, forcing his head back then pummeling his windpipe with small hard fists.

George came to a halt in amazement watching the hellcat on River's back erupt into a screaming brawl! River tried to dislodge her, but she hung on with surprising strength until he suddenly leaned forward and unceremoniously dumped her over his head. She landed in a sprawl, but immediately sprang to her feet.

She wore boy’s clothing and had leather chaps snug around her slim hips. Finely tooled leather boots showed silver spurs dangling from the heels as she crouched down to grab a large rock. Before she could bring it up to throw, River lunged for her, knocked her backward and straddled her, then brought her arms up and back over her head, to end the assault.

George could not help himself. He doubled over with laughter. He had to hold his injured side, as River spewed angry words without losing the grip on the small hands in his rough ones.

Stop that, you idiot, and come help me, River yelled.

George ambled over to him and said, Looks to me like you have everything under control, at least for the moment.

Straining and trying to twist her body away from her captor, the girl used all kinds of tactics until she acknowledged his superior strength. Abruptly, she stopped, lying as still as a stone.

Heaving with the effort, River managed to unwind a strip of rawhide from around his waist and bind her wrists together before he slid to his feet, backing away from the flailing, spurred feet. With a lithe movement, she stood, legs splayed ready to fight. She stilled as River continued to back away.

Hold it, lady! George said gently. He stepped toward her and held up his hands half way in surrender, then lowered them slowly. We're not going to hurt you. Are you in danger? He motioned to himself and made a knifing gesture shaking his head no as he demonstrated the action.

Slowly, the dark eyes stopped flashing, and her chin came up, along with slim shoulders that snapped back. With head held high, she somehow managed to convey a regal bearing without uttering a word.

OK, OK, mumbled George. Let's just try for everyone to remain calm and sort this out. We're not getting anywhere with all this fighting, and I'm still weak from what I've gone through. Let's just wave a white flag or something and try to get to the bottom of this tangle. Now, River, how about you just remove that strip of rawhide and let the little lady see that you are not going to hurt her, George said.

Glaring at the girl, River clutched his right hand and stepped forward. He hurriedly untied the rawhide slipknot. Clearly, the teeth marks showed on both hands where she had bit him. The little finger of his right hand was smeared with fresh blood. He slowly exhaled and straightened his broad shoulders. His gaze did not leave the flashing dark eyes.

The girl's breathing slowed, and she took a swift glance at George as though to reassure herself that he truly was not menacing. He tried a gentle smile, and immediately the girl turned with proud dignity toward him.

Gracias, Senor, she whispered.

Giving her a slight nod, George motioned for River to move away. Turning, she glanced at George as though awaiting instructions. When he waved his hand, she obeyed by backing up and sitting down on a large boulder.

River glared at George and said, Now, let's see what you can do with this situation, you're so damn good at being conciliatory! All you need is a peace pipe!

Don't ask me what to do. I have no idea how to handle a woman except my wife, Elizabeth. I'm certainly out of practice as I left her in Missouri several years ago with my teenage son until I can get settled out here.

This Spanish hell-cat seems used to being treated with respect when she ain't being downright vicious. Reminds me of my young sister-in-law, Annie Yount, back in Missouri. She belongs to my brother, Silas. Now there’s a woman with a feisty spirit. Just had to tip-toe around her. Do you know how to tip-toe? George questioned with a smile.

Keeping a wary eye on the girl, River proceeded to do just that. George could not travel any further today. Getting a campfire put together, laying strips of dried jerky out along with soap-root, River managed to avoid eye contact with the girl. She watched silently. Every step that River took toward her space, she let him know by her body language that he was out of his territory.

After supper, George rested for a while, then got his bedroll set up. River's blanket still hung loosely around the girl's slender shoulders, and she immediately clutched it tight.

George decided to try to communicate with her again. He tried hand gestures to indicate himself and River. We are trace white señors, come to settle this land. Pointing to himself, he said, My name is George Yount, and this hombre is River James Smythe. Shaking his head George said, No one wants to hurt you, but you must be at peace (giving the universal signage) as well, comprendo?

With haughty dignity, the girl quietly said in perfect English, My name is Pilar Maria Vallejo, and I am the beloved daughter of General Mariano Vallejo, Governor of this province. I demand that you return me to my home, El Petaluma Adobe Rancho, at once!

George and River looked at her in disbelief!

MEETING WITH GENERAL VALLEJO

Grant Johnson was shocked when he spotted the small trio as they descended on foot into the valley toward Fort Ross. Who was the young Mexican girl that walked between the two towering mountain men? She was startlingly beautiful, even in her disheveled state.

Several weeks earlier the detachment had finally returned to the campsite, where the wounded man had lain, and the Lieutenant had assumed the two men were dead.

The cavalry troop had encountered a herd of horses, on their way back to the fort. One was a large mare with an unusual composition and markings; tall, with a look not common to horses in that part of the country. He was fairly certain that he remembered seeing it among the horses fleeing during the Indian skirmish. Perhaps one or several of these horses belonged to the mountain men. Grant had brought this herd of horses with them to the fort in hopes of finding their owners.

On this particular day, all three individuals appeared weary from their trek, but seemed to be in good health. Even George looked to be restored.

Upon questioning, Grant learned the story of the girl’s rescue and her attempted kidnapping by the Mexican band of renegades whose purpose seem to be a ransom. General Vallejo had inquired far and wide for any news of his daughter, but had given up hope, assuming she had been killed or taken to a remote territory.

Pilar immediately demanded that she be returned to her father’s home, El Petaluma Adobe Rancho. The young girl adamantly refused to accept any escort other than the two men who had liberated her from her captors.

George and River Smythe could not believe their luck when they were told their horses had been found. George felt he was especially blessed as his mare was part of a dream he had to breed her and possibly raise horses. Now, they at least had transportation again.

Low on funds, George and River soon managed to outfit all of them for the journey further up the Napa Valley to the Vallejo hacienda by unloading freight wagons.

When General Vallejo himself met them at the El Petaluma Adobe Rancho, in the huge outdoor compound, tears blurred his eyes. He lifted Pilar from the saddle as a huge shout of celebration reverberated from the gathered ranch hands and their families.

Oh, Poppa! Mamacita, she managed to say as she almost collapsed in their arms. For just a moment, their embrace was all that mattered. Then, turning, she presented George and River to her family. They saved my life, Poppa. Without them, I would not have survived. Those beasts that took me! Shuddering, she turned to her father.

Welcome to my humble casa, señors. I can never repay you for your service to my family, but please come inside and we will drink to your health and well-being!

When George and River learned that Pilar was the only daughter of the General and that she was only fourteen years old, they were astounded at her bravery and the way she had managed to get away from her captors. They were thanked profusely. It was obvious that Pilar held a special place in the Napa Valley society.

During the next few days, a fiesta and celebration of Pilar’s return were planned by General Vallejo and her mother. People came from miles around to attend the party. George and River were astonished at the beautiful home and the opulent and large landholdings that belonged to the Vallejo’s. The working ranch was surrounded by 66,000 acres.

During the evening of the celebration, a lavish dance was held, along with a ceremony honoring both George and River. They had been given appropriate clothing outfitting them in the Spanish style. Looking at each other, before descending from their rooms, they burst out laughing. Never in their wildest dreams would they have imagined themselves to be in this position! Linking arms, they descended to the courtyard decorated with garlands of colorful flowers and lit with hundreds of candles flickering in the early dusk. Beautiful Spanish music from the mariachi band hired especially for the occasion played in the background.

But the surprise of the evening was when Pilar, dressed in a flowing ruby-red gown with a high mantel of lace in her upswept hair, came down the curved stairway, smiling shyly at them as she hid behind a small fan. Bowing low, George and River received her mischievous but courtly curtsey.

Then she laughingly drew her slender arms through both of theirs and escorted them into the grand ballroom. There, on a raised dais, were her father and mother, groomed and gowned in their native garments, smiling and standing to receive the three as they approached.

The band stopped playing and General Vallejo stepped forward, gesturing for a servant bearing a scarlet pillow to come forward. There lay two gold rings with an unusual design. Picking them up, General Vallejo joined the rings together forming a background of pines and mountains with a soaring bald eagle in the middle. He stated grandly, These two rings when joined together symbolize a strong friendship between these two men who saved my daughter’s life. They will always be connected to me and my family. Please wear them to remember your friendship and this momentous occasion.

Amid a thunderous round of applause, George and River slipped them on their fingers. Pilar stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on their cheek with a beautiful smile of gratitude!

Please accept my sincere apology for my arrogant behavior, which has been my undoing many times, she said clapping her slender hands together. Then she laughed, I am going to try to improve.

Then an official from the Mexican Territory government stepped forward. He presented a letter informing them that a land grant of 12,000 acres in the Napa Valley adjoining the Vallejo holdings had been awarded to each as a further reward for their deed.

George and River looked at each other in astonishment!

FLING COMES TO CALIFORNIA

George wrote to his wife in Missouri and sent money to pay for her trip to California. He could not wait for her and their son, Fling, to arrive at his newly constructed ranch named Rancho Caymus.

When a train from San Francisco arrived and a handsome young man stepped down, he arrogantly turned and helped his mother, Elizabeth Yount, descend. Fling Yount was twenty years old when he joined his father after being away from him for many years.

George was a proud parent and could not wait to introduce Fling and Elizabeth to the Vallejo family.

However, it was difficult for Elizabeth Yount to leave her family and friends, especially her newest, sister-in-law, Annie Yount. But upon arrival in California, she started writing regularly to Annie and her husband, Silas, back in Warsaw, Missouri. She loved to hear about their son, Jacob, and their life in the Ozarks. This kept her in close touch with that branch of the Yount clan. The letters that flowed back and forth over the years were full and rewarding, building a friendship that lasted over time. She doted on her handsome son, Fling, and watched the society of Napa Valley accept him whole-heartedly.

Before long, however, George began to notice flaws in his son’s character. Fling began to flaunt their new status, and several times he was caught in lies about his association with other young men of questionable reputation, who reportedly rustled cattle in the valley. George was embarrassed by this behavior and strived to make him a better man.

Fling, however, was not satisfied with his new life. He felt superior to most of the community as he was educated and came from a much more civilized background. His father soon learned that Fling was headstrong, opinionated, and hard to control. His temper was quick, but he hid it well with his boyish charm and good looks.

He had no intention of staying in California, until the day he met the beautiful Pilar! Invited to the El Petaluma Rancho, along with his family, for her sixteenth birthday party, he took one look at her and knew he had to have her. Bowing low over her small hand, he seductively said, Senorita Pilar, I am delighted to meet you. No one told me that El Petaluma contained such a beautiful flower. Shyly, Pilar lowered her eyes and could not think of anything to reply to such an outlandish compliment.

So started his plans. Fling became very interested in being of service to General Vallejo, helping with plans to enlarge and upgrade his vast land holdings. Because of his education, Fling became quite adept at managing ranch techniques and knowing what land parcels were for sale or valuable. General Vallejo was impressed with the young man.

As for Pilar, she was happy growing up in a loving environment surrounded by her friends and numerous admirers. Fling was always flirting with her and asking her father’s permission to squire her to social functions. General Vallejo encouraged and approved this interest in his daughter.

Always on his best behavior, Fling kept his feelings about Pilar under wraps. But one day when he and General Vallejo were working late, the General asked Fling what his future plans were? Realizing the unique opportunity, he stated his love for Pilar and the desire to bring the Rancho Caymus and General Vallejo’s holdings together. This combination would make their holdings the biggest and wealthiest in Napa Valley. He also mentioned that his father had brought grape vines into the valley immediately after acquiring his land grant, and the Rancho Camus vineyards were expecting to produce excellent wine.

General Vallejo quickly realized that a union between the two families would be wise and profitable. A meeting was soon arranged with George. At the end, the General asked if he would consent to a betrothal between his daughter and Fling to culminate when she reached eighteen. George was overwhelmed by the old tradition and quickly consented if his daughter was in agreement.

Pilar was outraged that her father would even consider something of this magnitude without her consent. Over the next months, the arguments became heated between her and her parents. Finally, the exasperated mother came up with a plan. She had several friends with daughters who had attended a private girl’s finishing school in San Francisco. She would arrange for Pilar to go immediately. Two years at the Alberta Remington’s Finishing School,