Scorpion Valley - Life in the Wilds of West Texas

 June 28, 1875 Before bed, Motzi Shabbat. Brigs safe at home after several days on the range and all the children are asleep. ****************** A young girl came to the ranch Friday night, after the babies and the boys were in bed. She's someone I recognized — a young lady who is, I think, at least part Native. She comes to the Valley now and then, following the game she hunts. I've heard her called Bear, though I don’t always see her as a mama bear. More like a cub still in need of love. She was scared, this young Bear. I offered her some of the herbal tea I learned to blend from Elle, with herbs that soothe both the body and the soul, and asked what was troubling her. The first thing she asked, as she sipped the tea and the chill began to leave her — which may sound strange in the heat of late June in West Texas, but she truly seemed chilled to the bone — was, “So, you are Jewish, yes?” When I told her I was and gently asked why, she leaned in and whispered that she was afra...

 June 20, 1875 It's been mostly a quiet week in the Valley, but a couple things have happened. First, Ima Evelyn was approached by the saloon girl Edie. Young Edie was wondering about organizing some gatherings for folks from the surrounding ranches. I know she's hoping to stir up some business for herself, but it would also be nice to see neighbors more often. Back when we still lived in Colorado, we used to travel from Durango over to Silverton once a week for their social night in the saloon there. I talked to Brigs about it, and he's thinking it over. With no Rangers in the Valley, we'd need to make sure we could keep things from getting too rowdy. Then, Evelyn came to me this morning and told me she might know of a young lady who plays piano who would be interested in coming to the Valley. What prompts her to come out to the middle of nowhere, I have no idea, but Gd knows she will be welcome. Evelyn did mention that the girl was concerned that, if she did perform a...

 June 6, 1875 So, as the challah rises—and before the boys come help me braid the loaves—I wanted to set down a few thoughts. It’s been a quiet week overall, which is always a blessing. Well. I say that. There was an incident last Shabbat that still has me a bit shaken. I went down to visit Ima Evelyn on Saturday morning. She’d gotten back late from El Paso (yes, I know—she rode on Shabbat, but it’s hard to get here any other way sometimes). We were fussing around, and I was showing her the little horse barn Brigs built for her, when that Ranger, the one who passes through the Valley now and again, showed up on the ranch. Honestly, I don’t know why he came. But I know Evelyn was not pleased to see him. She’s always had her suspicions about him, and I know Brigs shares them. Evelyn asked him, plain and direct, if he was a man of law and truth—or just another bully hiding behind a badge. What came out of his mouth after that… I still feel sick thinking about it. He said things I won’...

May 26, 1875 It’s been a busy week so far in the Valley. Over the weekend, some workers Brigs hired out of El Paso came and built a crypt near the cliffs closer to the house than the barn. There’s a marker now — it reads  Elle Pinkerton , the name she was denied in life but now bears in death. Brigs had it commissioned that way. Quietly, respectfully, with no fanfare. I took the boys down with me and they “helped” while I planted sunflowers. They were Elle’s favorite. The ground was dry and stubborn, but we got them in. The boys were solemn for once, helping me press the seeds in and cover them up with their little hands. Xavier asked if sunflowers go to Heaven when they die. I told him, I think maybe they just bloom again in a better place. Then — some brighter news. Evelyn, who first joined our wagon train back in Colorado but never truly settled, has finally decided to put down roots here in the Valley. Over this past year and a half, she’s become like family to us. I call her I...

*On the first page of a brand new diary* May 23, 1875 OK, I've finally done it. Elle used to always tell me that I needed to write down what life was like out here. Both because, she said, I have a way with words, but also so the children have a record of what life was like for us settling out here. I first thought to start by writing all our history in one go. From our leaving Colorado, to our first year and a half in the Valley. All the people that have come and gone, the loved ones we have lost and gained, but I realized that is an awful lot to write before I light candles for Shabbat. So, while the challah is rising a second time and the babies are napping I will say a little about what happened this past couple of weeks. Brigs' sister, Elle, is lost to us. It is not clear if she just disappeared back into the jungle she used to live in, or is more permanently gone, but it became clear to us that she is not coming back. I am keeping the letter we got about her disappearance...