Interim
by
Janice Sagraves
This is for Edna and Christy
who both gave me the idea to write a follow-up for “The Ordeal”. For Kaci, who gave me the idea for the way to
go with the story. And Debra, who wanted
to see the gap filled. Again, I don’t know
how accurate any of this is.
ONE
As the big dun gelding ambled
into the little town of Gordon’s Junction, Sheriff Ham Tyler stood on the
boardwalk outside his office watching the stranger, his hat pulled down in
front. He’d never seen the gaunt-looking,
black-haired man before, and he always made it a point to know the business of
those who came into his town.
He watched him as he reined
up in front of Dempsey’s saloon and gingerly got down. As he was tying up he leaned forward against
the hitch rail, and
“Hey, Mister, you all right?”
he asked as he got closer.
“Yeah,” the stranger said as
he pushed himself back from the rail.
“I’m just tired. I’ve been in the
saddle for a while.”
But as the man looked around
at him Ham could see that there was more to it than simple exhaustion. His color was washed-out and there were dark
smudges under his deep hazel eyes. Ham
Tyler didn’t need anybody to tell him this man was sick.
Adam Cartwright felt like his
skull had split open. He’d had one of
those devastating headaches, and he still hadn’t recovered from it. The big, red-haired man standing before him
was little more than a blur and the only thing that stood out was what appeared
to be a star pinned to his vest. He
blinked hard and tried to focus.
“Sheriff,” he started as he staggered back into the gelding, “I’m
looking … looking for…” But the rest of
the words never materialized as blackness folded in on him.
*****
Gradually, the veil cleared
from his eyes, but the fuzz in his brain was a trifle slower at
dissipating. He groaned as he rubbed the
heel of his hand against his right temple.
“Well, still alive, I see.”
Adam tried moving his head,
but it wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.
It set off a wave of pain that ran down his spine and out in all
directions. “Where… Where am I?”
“My office. I’m Sheriff Hamlyn Tyler, but most folks just
call me Ham. And the name of this town
is Gordon’s Junction.”
“How did I…?”
“You fainted dead away right
in front of and at first I thought you was
dead. When I saw you wasn’t I had a
couple fellas help me bring you here.
That was two hours ago.”
More pain elicited another
groan and Adam began rubbing the other side of his head. “No doctor?”
“Nope. There ain’t more’n a hundred of us here, and
we just ain’t been able to get one interested enough to come. The best we can do is Doc Reynolds. He takes care of the horses in town.”
”Oh, fine,” Adam thought, “I’m dying and all they have is a horse
doctor.”
With another groan Adam
pushed himself up and sat on the side of the cot. His head thought to fall off so he rested it
in his hands to keep it from going anywhere.
“You think that’s such a good
idea?”
“I’ll let you know… when my
head… stops spinning.”
After another minute his eyes
had cleared enough till he could make out his surroundings and the big man
sitting on the corner of the desk in front of him. It wasn’t the best lit room he’d ever been in
and the walls were unfinished, rough-hewn wood.
“Now, I told you who I am so
it’d only be fair of you to return the favor.”
“Huh?” Adam said dully, his
brain still not fully functional yet.
“Your name. I like to know about the folks who come to my
town, and I figger that’s as good a place as any to start.”
“Name?” He hadn’t thought that far in advance, and
this man wouldn’t wait for an answer all day so he seized on the first one that
came to him. “Benjamin.”
“First or last?”
“Uh, last, first one’s… first
one’s…” His brow furrowed, and he
pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ross,”
he said as he looked up, trying to blink the ache from his eyes. “It’s Ross Benjamin.”
“Well, I guess I’ll havta to
take your word on that.” Ham got up and
stepped to the stove where the coffee pot sat.
“Coffee?”
Adam delicately shook his
head.
“All sorts of folks come to
my town for all sorts of reasons,” Ham said as he filled his cup, “and I make
it my business to find out what they are.
This is a nice place, and I wantta keep it that way.” He came back and sat on the desk. “So, what’s your reason? You ain’t on the run, are you?”
“I guess I am, but not from
what you think.” Adam looked straight
into Sheriff Ham Tyler’s sienna eyes and his expression never changed. “I came here to die.”
The tin cup hit the floor and
its hot contents splashed over the wooden planks.
After several seconds Ham
collected himself. “I hope you don’t think
I act like that all the time, it’s just the look on your face when you said
what you said. It kinda caught me
between the horns.”
“Sorry,” Adam said as he
began massaging the back of his neck.
“But you asked me, and being the sheriff, I thought you should
know. And I’m gonna ask you not to tell
anybody else. It won’t help anything and
people tend to treat you differently when they know.”
“All right,” Ham said as he
got a rag and started wiping up the floor, “if that’s the way you want it. And I won’t ask you anything else about it.”
“Thanks. Now if I’m gonna live here for what time I’ve
got left I’m gonna need a place to stay and a job. I have to earn my keep,” he said with a wry
grin.
“Well, the best place for the
first part would be the Widow Hutchins’ boardin’ house. It’s clean and it’s the best food in
town. It’s not far from here, and I can
take you there.”
“I’d be much obliged,
Sheriff.” Adam warily came to his feet, and as he did he started pitching
forward. But an iron grip clamped onto
his arm and steadied him. He looked
around into the broad freckled face with its red eyebrows and lashes and caught
a compassionate gleam in the even eyes.
Adam instinctively felt that he could trust this man, but he would give
it a few days to see how far.
TWO
Elvira Hutchins had run the
only boarding house in town almost from the very beginnings of the little
hamlet. She had opened her home to
boarders eight years ago when her husband died from a fall down the stairs. Money had been in short supply, and it had
been a way to keep the wolf at bay.
As she was just putting two
apple pies into the oven a knock came at the front door. “Celia, dear, would you see who that it?” she
said as she navigated her well-rounded frame around the small table near the
big iron stove.
“All right, Mother,” Celia
Munroe said as she pushed back a hank of honey-colored hair with the back of a
floured hand. She wiped them on her
apron tail as she started down the narrow hall that led from the kitchen, past
the stairs and into the entryway. The
knock came again, and her step quickened.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said crisply.
As she jerked the door open
the sheriff removed his hat. “Afternoon,
Miss Celia.”
“Sheriff Tyler. We certainly weren’t expecting company. Not official business, I hope.”
“Nope, but I did bring you
and your ma a boarder.”
Before she would say anything
else a black-haired man with saddlebags draped over his shoulder stepped around
next to the sheriff. One hand went to
her throat, and her lungs filled. He was
extremely handsome, and his perfect mouth was drawn into a genial smile, but
something in his dark hazel eyes disturbed her.
And his haggard appearance made her wince inwardly.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he
said as he removed his hat.
“No, not at all. Please, come in.”
“Who is it, Celia?” rang from
the kitchen.
“It’s Sheriff Tyler, and he
brought us a boarder.”
“That’s splendid,” Mrs.
Hutchins said as she bustled in to stand next to her daughter. “Who do we have?” Her blue-gray eyes roved over him in a quick
assessment.
“Name’s Ross Benjamin, and
I’m gonna be staying in town from a little while. Sheriff Tyler says this is the best place.”
“About the only place,” Mrs.
Hutchins snittered. “We have only one
hotel, and I personally would rather stay at the livery stable. I’m Elvira Hutchins and this is my daughter
Celia. She’ll show you to your
room. I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I’m
in the middle of baking pies. I always
do a few extra to sell to the restaurant, and I don’t think they’d like them
burned.” She giggled lightly. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not a bit. From sunup to sundown, a woman’s work is
never done.’
“Isn’t that the truth,” Mrs. Hutchins
said with a laugh. “Now, if you’ll
excuse me, I really do need to get back to them. I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr.
Benjamin.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Then she turned and went back
into the kitchen.
“Well, I’ve done what I came for,” the sheriff said as he put
his hat back on, “so I’ll be gettin’ back to my office. Good day, Miss Celia.” Then he started down the steps and on up the
street.
After a few more amenities
Celia showed this dark-eyed man upstairs to one of five bedrooms. “How long do you plan on staying?” she asked
as she opened the door.
“I don’t really know. I guess it kinda depends on the way things
work out.”
Her soft brows knit
together. “What kind of things?”
“Well, it’s really personal,
and I don’t…”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying
to pry. I was just trying to make idle
talk, and I didn’t mean to get personal.”
“No need to apologize. Now, how much is it for a week?”
“Five dollars and that
includes meals. Breakfast it at six,
dinner is at
“That’s fine,” he said as he
scrounged the money from a vest pocket and gave to her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long
trail, and I really am beat.”
After making her abject
apologies he almost closed the door in her face. He didn’t like being rude, especially to a
lady, but the tight hold he’d been keeping on himself was nearly exhausted, and
so was he. He hung his saddlebags on the
substantial footboard then made his way to the window and dropped into the
creaky old rocker. He rubbed at the dull
throb behind his eyes and felt what little energy he’d had in reserve dissolve
into thin air. Pulling back a faded
curtain, he looked out into the grove of trees behind the house and the roving
thought that it would be a nice place to bury a man tumbled into his head. He let his eyelids drop as he leaned back in
the chair. Tomorrow he would look for a
job and find a bank, but for now, for tonight, he just wanted to rest and maybe
let more pleasant memories come in his dreams.
That is, if he could go to sleep.
*****
Celia came out into the
entryway tying the sash around her robe.
She and her mother shared the only downstairs bedroom and it was right
at the front of the house. Something had
awakened her as she’d turned over. She
couldn’t remember exactly what it sounded like, but it had been enough to
arouse her from sleep. Looking around
her in the gloom of late night or very early morning she heard something else
and this time she knew what she heard.
She’d been around guns enough in her life to know the sound of one being
cocked and un-cocked. It was coming from
the front porch. As she stood there
boots began pacing back-and-forth from one end to the other, the gun
continually making the clicking noises.
As she went into the almost pitch black parlor a voice came at her from
the darkness.
“It’s Mr. Benjamin,” her
mother said lowly as she stepped into the faint shaft of gray light coming
through the lacey curtains on the room’s only window. “He’s been out there for nearly an hour. I heard him come down the stairs and go out.”
“But what’s he doing?”
“He’ll pace for a bit, stop
and then go right back at it. And always
that gun keeps clicking.”
Celia knelt on the settee and
parted the curtains slightly and looked out.
She could see the tall silhouette as it passed from one end of the porch
to the other. “And he didn’t eat a bite
last night,” she whispered. “It’s
spooky.”
“Yes, dear, I have to admit
that it is.” She came to stand behind
her daughter. “The minute I saw him
yesterday I knew that something was wrong.”
“But I wonder why…”
“I don’t know, dear. Now let’s go back to bed.” She gently took her daughter’s arm and eased
her up from the settee. “And we’ll prop
a chair under the doorknob for as long as he’s here.”
As her mother steered her out
and into the entryway she glanced back at the window just as a shadow passed in
front of it. She wondered if the man was
going crazy. She’d heard stories of
people losing their mind. And if that
was the problem it would explain why he wasn’t eating and sleeping and why he
looked so bad.
*****
“Mr. Benjamin,” Celia asked
as she knocked at the bedroom door, a tray balanced on one arm. “Mr. Benjamin, I brought you your breakfast.”
While she was standing there
Lyle Jasper, a stocky, middle-aged peddler that sometimes stayed there when
passing through, came out of his room across the hall. “He’s not in there, Mrs. Munroe. He was comin’ and goin’ all night long, ‘bout
drove me crazy. Then, just about sunup,
he came out and hasn’t been back.”
“Did you see him go?”
“I’d just looked outside my
door, ‘bout ready to give him some of my mind, when he went down the
stairs.” His dark brown eyes darted
briefly toward the staircase. “He had
that determined walk I’ve seen on men before when they had someplace they
needed to get to fast. And before you
ask, Ma’am, I don’t know where.”
Disappointment laced itself
over her oval-shaped face, and her petite mouth pulled into a bow. “I see,” she said as she glanced down at the
fried eggs and ham. “Well, since he
isn’t here you might as well take it. A
busy man like you, it wouldn’t hurt to take a meal in your room now and
then.” She smiled warmly as she handed
him the tray.
He thanked her then threw a
look at the door. “He’s a strange one,
that one.”
“Why do you say that?” she
asked with a curious frown.
“Cause he was talkin’ to
somebody and we both know that – with the Vannen brothers in
As his door closed she turned
back around. She was tempted to look
inside the newly let room and see what she could find. But she’d been raised to respect the privacy
of others, and this man’s affairs were none of hers. Still, concern for another living soul and
feminine curiosity nibbled at her. Her
hand rested on the knob and slowly began turning it. Then, with a shake of the head, she jerked
her hand away and flounced downstairs.
And, anyway, she had to feed the chickens.
Celia’s mother must have been
off in another part of the house for the kitchen was devoid of life when she
came through. She went out the back door
with a pan of cracked corn and started for the chicken coop that was down about
two or three feet from the back of the house.
The heat hadn’t gotten a good foothold yet and – while it was warm – it was pleasant. As she reached for the gate to the wire
enclosure that kept the chickens from straying and predators out, she caught
movement from the corner of her eye. As
she stood and watched she caught sight of their newest boarder moving among the
trees down from the embankment. And she
soon saw that he was coming out. He came
up the path like a man driven and went past the house, never appearing to
notice her. She had to go along with Mr.
Jasper that he was a strange one, but she suspected that his illness, be it of
mind or body, had something to do with it.
THREE
Adam had quickly secured a
job at the livery stable working for a grizzled little man named Jake
Flowers. He hadn’t been a hard sell
since he could see that the owner was eager for help.
He usually didn’t pay that
much attention to hard work, but these days just putting on his boots was a
major undertaking. And, even at that,
mucking out stalls had never been anything he did with any great relish. With a pitchfork, he loaded manure and soiled
straw into a wheelbarrow then took his odoriferous cargo outside the front
doors and dumped in a pile, later to be taken out and burned.
It was rounding onto
She was an attractive young
woman with golden honey-blonde hair and eyes the color of a spring sky. She was slim and filled her blouse out in all
the right places. He was just dumping
his last load when she walked up to him with a fair-sized basket. “Hello,” she said brightly. “Would I be wrong in saying that you haven’t
eaten yet?”
“No, you wouldn’t be
wrong.” He leaned the barrow forward against
the weathered and cribbed corral fence.
“But I don’t have all that much of an appetite.”
“Twaddle, a working man needs
to eat, and I know that you didn’t have breakfast. I brought you some cornbread, greens and
turnips and apple pie. And I hope you
like fresh buttermilk.”
Adam loved fresh buttermilk,
especially with cornbread crumbled in it, but right now the mere thought sent
his stomach into spasms. And the fact of
his difficulty swallowing didn’t help.
“I appreciate it, Miss Hutchins, but I really am not hungry.”
“I can’t force you to eat,
but I don’t think you want to hurt my mother’s feelings. She prides herself on her cooking and there
isn’t anybody in town that doesn’t like it.
And it’s Mrs. Munroe. I was married for all of three months before
my husband was killed in a mining accident in
“I’m sorry.” Now he felt guilty, and he knew that was the
whole reason for the revelation. “Well,
maybe I can eat a little, and I do
like fresh buttermilk.”
“Good, but I don’t think this
is the most appealing spot to eat,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “What about over there under that tree?”
He agreed, and they went to
the large oak and sat in the cool grass beneath its dense awning of
leaves. As she opened the basket and the
aroma of the food struck him he felt a gurgle in his stomach. But he was determined to try to get something
down, in spite of himself. No sense
hastening the inevitable with starvation.
She watched him intently as
he took his first bite of greens, and he had to admit that it was very
good. It was still hard to swallow, but
he wasn’t going to let that hinder him.
And he found that he had a little more appetite than he’d thought. As he ate he allowed himself to get lost in
her voice instead of dwelling on the way he felt.
“I was fifteen when we came
here. Mother, Daddy, Ginny, Cary and
me. The town was only a year old then.”
“Where’re your sisters now?”
“Ginny lives in
Adam frowned and suddenly
didn’t want anymore food, and he was certainly
the last thing he wanted to talk about.
How did you tell a vibrant young woman you were going to die? “There’s not that much to tell.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is. A man doesn’t just come from nowhere. And what about your family? Do you have a girl?”
“There you go with the
questions again. Do you do this with
everybody that comes into town or am I just lucky that way?”
“I’d just like to get to know
you better, is all,” she said with a pleasant smile. “You drop in unannounced…”
“Well, maybe you’d liked it
better if I’d sent an engraved invitation.” he said, any note of cordiality
gone. “And while we’re about it, I don’t
need a mother hen. I’m perfectly capable
of taking care of myself.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen…”
“And what have you seen?” he
said as he jerked to his feet – the bowl emptying its contents onto the ground
– and towered over her. “You know, your
husband was lucky he didn’t have to go through life married to a harpy! He’s better off right where he is!”
Celia gasped as he spun
around and stomped back into the stable.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way; it was as if someone had
run a knitting needle through her heart.
She could feel the tears trying to make their way forth and the air
stifled in her lungs. Her knuckles
blanched as her fingers tangled in the fabric of her skirt. Slowly and almost painfully, she began
putting the things back. She just
couldn’t understand why he would want to say such hideous things to her. Then she gathered up the basket and herself
and started home as the tears finally broke free and ran down her cheeks.
*****
Adam couldn’t remember a time
when he’d ever talked to a woman the way he had Celia Munroe, and it had nagged
at him all day. She’d done nothing to elicit
such venom from him, and he knew that his biting words had injured her deeply.
The shadows were growing as
his long legs wound him across the street and headed him on the direction of
the boarding house. His work day was
over, and he had an apology to make. He
didn’t know if it would be accepted, and he couldn’t blame her if she didn’t,
but he had to try anyway.
As he came into the entryway
Celia was coming down the stairs and froze the second she saw him. He could see the blue flame burning in her
eyes and knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
“Mrs. Munroe,” he started as he stepped to the newel post, “I’d like to
talk to you if I could.”
“I think you said quite
enough today,” she said as she started the rest of the way down.
“Fair enough,” he said with a
slight nod, and his mouth drew in. “I’m
sorry. What I said was uncalled for and
totally untrue. No matter. I’ll pack up and move to the hotel in the
morning.”
“You don’t have to do that,”
she said coolly as she came to the last step.
“This is still the best place in town and we still need the money. And you don’t have to worry about idle
chitchat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
have to help Mother with supper.” Then
she finished her descent and started down the hall to the kitchen.
He grimaced and slammed his
fist into the smoothly planed wood. It
had just become a toss-up which would get him first, the rabies or frostbite.
*****
As Adam came down the stairs
the next morning he could hear Mrs. Hutchins and her daughter and the only
other boarder in polite conversation.
And then the subject changed, and he found himself eavesdropping.
“He’s really quite rude,”
Mrs. Hutchins said. “He talked to Celia
like I wouldn’t to a stray dog and for that reason I avoid him and will
continue to whenever I can.”
“Then why didn’t you just
tell him to pack up and move out?” Mr. Jasper asked.
“We need the money. And despite his detestable manner, his is as
good as anybody else’s,” Celia said as a cup clinked against a saucer. “Besides, given his nature and the size of
the house it isn’t too difficult to stay away from him.”
“Well, he deserves it,”
Jasper said with a derisive snort. “And
you can always hope he won’t be around too long.”
“That’s always a pleasant
thought,” Mrs. Hutchins said with a chortle.
The dining room filled with
laughter as Adam put his hat on and quietly left, easing the door together
behind him.
*****
Adam sat in a beat-up chair
at the end of the sheriff’s desk, a cup of coffee in his hands. Ham refreshed his from the pot and sat back
down in the chair next to him.
“You could try apologizen’,”
Ham said as the steam wafted into his face.
“Already have,” Adam said
glumly. “I might as well stand in front
of a fence and do the same thing.”
“They ain’t nothin’ like a
mad woman.” Ham took a sip. “They got more in common with a
“I’m afraid she’d hand me the
gun,” Adam said as a single eyebrow went up.
“Really, though, I can’t say I blame her. I had no call to say what I did. She was just asking me about my family and
friends and if I had a girl.” He shook
his head. “And I said her husband was
better off dead than being married to a… harpy.”
Ham’s face pinched and air
whistled through his teeth. “She
wouldn’t fool handin’ you the gun; she’d do it ‘erself. I bet livin’ in that house is like gettin’
caught in a January blizzard naked as a jaybird.”
“I’d welcome that.”
“Yep, spose I would too.”
The room went quiet as they
brought up their cups and drank at the same time.
*****
He’d had another long day at
the livery, and Adam just wanted to go to his room where it wasn’t quite so
chilly. It had been three days since
he’d said what he had and things showed no sign of thawing out anytime
soon. He looked in the direction of the
kitchen and smiled at the sound of the women’s voices. They were nice to hear, even though they were
never directed at him anymore.
Celia was rolling out
dumpling dough to drop into the bubbling chicken broth while her mother picked
the meat from the bones to drop in with it.
“I miss Mr. Jasper,” Celia said
as the large wooden pin flattened the stiff dough. “I hope he does get to stop over on his way
back.”
“He is a nice man, and when
he’s around you don’t have to talk to anybody else.”
“If, by that, you mean that I
can use him as an excuse not to talk to Mr. Benjamin…”
But the sound of something
being knocked over in the entryway followed by a heavy thud ceased all
conversation as they looked in that direction.
“What on Earth was that?”
Celia asked as she forgot what she was doing.
“I don’t know, but I think we
should go find out.”
They started down the hall
wiping their hands on their aprons. As
they got closer they saw the coat tree turned over and could see something
through the banister railing and heard the unmistakable sound of suffering. They came around in front of the stairs and
Mrs. Hutchins’ hands went instantly to her mouth.
Celia’s heart nearly
shattered as she saw him slumped over against the steps, trembling and making
sounds like a wounded animal. She knelt
in front of him and was able to raise him enough until she could get a good
look at him. Never in her life had she
seen such pain on anyone’s face. His
eyes were endless black caverns of sheer agony, and his hands were balled into
tight fists.
“Mr. Benjamin,” she
whispered, but he didn’t even seem to know she was there, let alone hear
her. She sat down and put her arms
around him and held him close, resting his head against her chest. She could feel his intense shaking and it was
like knife slashes into her soul. “Oh,
Mother,” she said as she looked up with burning eyes. “I wish Mr. Jasper was here to help us get
him to his room.”
“I’ll go get Ham,” her mother
said and rushed out of the house.
“Shhh, shhh,” she soothed as
she stroked the heavy black hair and rested her cheek against the top of his
head. “Everything’s going to be all
right. Help’s coming, and we’ll get you
to bed. It’s going to be all right, it’s
going to be all right.” She closed her
eyes and squeezed out the tears and feared deep inside that this man was dying
in her arms.
FOUR
The first thing he gradually
became aware of was the blunt throbbing behind his eyes. His body felt as if it wasn’t even there, and
he floated formless. He tried raising
his eyelids, but it was like they were cast of lead and refused to obey his
command to rise. He took a deep breath
and it brought out a strangled groan.
Something cool and wet was
placed against his forehead, and his hand instinctively tried going to it, but
gentle fingers grasped his wrist and held it back. Again he tried opening his eyes and this time
succeeded, but only a crack. He tried a
couple feeble blinks in an effort to clear the gauze from his vision and slowly
became aware of someone sitting next to him.
At first only a glob of colors all jumbled together, it steadily became
Celia Munroe, and she appeared to be smiling.
“Mrs. Munroe,” he rasped in a voice that came from someone he didn’t
know as lucidity seeped in.
“We were beginning to think
you were going to sleep all day.”
“All… day… What time…?”
“It’ll soon be supper. I doubt you’ll feel like coming to the table
so I’ll bring you something. You gave us
quite a fright. What happened?”
“Head… ache.”
Her stomach bunched. For a headache to bring down a man such as
this one it had to be excruciating. And
from what she’d seen in his eyes the night before she knew it had gone well
beyond that. She took the compress from
his forehead, rewet it and began bathing his ashen face. Swallowing hard, she bucked herself up for
what she was about to do. “Is there
anybody you would like for us to get a hold of?
A family member or a friend that…”
“No,” he said through gritted
teeth and turned his head away.
“All right,” she said as she
pulled her hand back. “We’ll be your
family, and we’ll get through this together.”
He slowly looked at her and
the trust she saw dwelling there made her bite her lower lip. She rewet the cloth and placed it back on his
forehead. “It’ll be all right. Now you rest, and I’ll go see about something
to eat.” With a reassuring pat on the
back of his hand, she got up and left the room.
As soon as she got into the
kitchen her defenses collapsed, and she began to cry as she leaned her hands on
the table. “How could I have ever been
mad at him?”
Her mother went to her and
put a comforting arm across her back and held her shoulders. “We both were, dear, and you must admit that
he said some pretty terrible things to you.”
“I know, but in his place I
can’t be sure I wouldn’t’ve said a whole lot worse. There I was prattling on and him so terribly,
terribly sick, maybe even in pain at the time.”
“You had no way of
knowing.”
“I should have the moment I
saw him, he’s so pale and thin.” She
shook her head, and her soft, wavy hair bounced. “When I was holding him I could feel him
shaking so hard, and when I looked into his eyes… I’ve never seen such
misery.” Her chin quivered as she tried
to calm her weeping. “Oh, if only I’d
known he was so sick.”
“Neither of us did.” Mrs. Hutchins hung her head. “And I was finding amusement in it the other
morning.” She looked at her
daughter. “If I could take back what I
said I would, but I can’t. And you can’t
blame yourself for not knowing.”
“Well, at least we’re here
with him,” Celia said strongly as her head came up. “Where’s his family through this? A man like that has to have somebody. Where are they? Don’t they even care?” New, fresh anger crept in and not at him this
time. “Did they drive him away or care
so little that he left?”
“Or care so much? He may’ve left because he didn’t want them
seeing him like this.”
“Then all the more reason to
let them know where he is,” Celia said with renewed hope.
“That’s not up to us. For whatever reason he left, it’s because
that’s the way he wanted it and it’s not our place to interfere.”
Celia felt complete and utter
defeat as she threw her arms around her mother and her crying reestablished
itself.
As she went back to the room
with his supper she found him sitting up on the side of the bed, his head
resting in his hands. “Are you out of
your mind? You need to get right back
into bed. You’re seriously ill, and you
should take it easy.”
“It wouldn’t help, believe
me. And it’s not like it hasn’t happened
before. I have a pretty good idea what
my limits are.”
“Nobody does. We always think we’re capable of more than we
actually are. Now you should lie back
and…”
“I said I’m all right,” he
said tersely then got up and barely made it out of the room.
*****
It was well after
“It’s a beautiful night, if a
little chilly,” Celia said as she stepped around him, snuggling her robe around
her. “Aren’t you cold?”
“No,” he said flatly as he
continued to bounce.
She came and sat down next to
him, forcing him to stop. “This time of
night is always so peaceful. I enjoy the
calmness though I’m rarely up to see it.”
“Realistically speaking, this
is morning. And about the only ones
still up are some hardheaded miners and anybody stupid enough to drive cattle.”
“Drive cattle. Is that what you do?”
His fierce eyes flashed around
at her, and he bounded from the swing and began restlessly pacing. “Why do you have to ask so many
questions? You’re the most inquisitive and annoying woman I’ve ever known.”
She was learning not to let
his quick bouts of temper or petulant words get to her. “I’d just like to know a little more about
you. You don’t have to tell me who you
are or anything about your background.
If Ross Benjamin isn’t your real name you don’t even have to tell me
that. But I don’t think it’s going to
hurt anything for you to tell me if you’re a cowboy or not. With so many in this part of the country,
what’s one more?”
He stopped his nervous
stalking and looked into her face.
Something about her had a calming effect and it reached out to him. And right now that was an influence he
needed. Without Pa, he needed someone to
lean on and confide in, if only a little.
“Come sit down and let’s
talk,” she said as she patted the seat next to her. “You can tell me only what you want to and
I’ll try not to ask anymore questions.”
A mischievous grin turned her elegant mouth, and her eyes crinkled at
the corners.
Her very presence eased his
edginess as she held her hand out to him.
And as his touched hers some of the old Adam Cartwright returned as he
sat next to her. “Do you like
Shakespeare?”
*****
It was a Sunday so Adam had
the day off from work, and it was time for the next step in his plan. Two days before he’d been to the bank to
deposit his life’s savings that he’d withdrawn from the one in
It was a beautiful summer day
and a good one to be alive, but then they all were, even the bad ones. He walked along the boardwalk until he came
to the sheriff’s office and let himself in.
“Afternoon, Ross,” Ham Tyler
said from inside one of the two cells he was sweeping out. “After church I figgered you’d be spendin’
the rest of the day with the ladies.”
“I had something to take care
of and it’s waited too long as it is.
And you’re the best one to help me with it.”
“Well, you know I’ll do
anything I can,” Ham said as he came out and put the broom in a corner behind
the desk. “What is it?”
Adam reached into a back
britches pocket and took out three envelopes.
“This tells you what I want done when I’m buried,” he said without a
trace of emotion as he handed one of them to the sheriff. “And don’t worry, there’s money enough to
take care of all the arrangements.”
Ham looked straight into the
unwavering dark hazel eyes as he took it.
“This is a letter to my
family that I want you to mail as soon as it’s over. Where to send it is in the first envelope,”
he went on as he handed the second one to him.
“And this one,” and he held up the third, “is to Miss Celia and her
mother. Wait until things have settled
down a little before you give it to ‘em.”
Ham sat back hard on the desk
and just stared at them. He pushed his
hat back – releasing a shock of red hair – and nodded. “All right,” he said tonelessly and looked up
at him. “But why me? Why not Mr. Lenly over at the bank?”
“Because I know I can trust
you to do it,” he took a firm grip on the man’s shoulder, “and because I think
of you as my friend.”
He scrubbed at his nose and
ducked his head. Few men had ever
entrusted him with something like this, and this one he’d only known for just
over a week. And yet he trusted him to
see to his final arrangements and with what money he had, which probably wasn’t
very much. He came up off the desk and
looked him in the face. “I’d be glad
to.”
“And I have one other favor
to ask of you.”
“You name it.”
“If Ben Cartwright, or any
Cartwright, for that matter, ever comes looking for me, you just tell ‘em I’m
not here. Tell ‘em anything you want,
but don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”
“All right,” he said. “Now I’d like to ask you something. Who’s Ben Cartwright to you?”
Adam glanced down at his
hands as they wrung together. “I think
you’re entitled to know that, but it can’t go outside this office, at least,
not until it’s over.”
“You’ve got my word on it,”
Ham said, and his right hand went out.
Adam took it and pumped it
firmly. “Let’s sit down.”
FIVE
“Whoa, whoa, easy, son,” Adam
said soothingly as he tried calming the big black. The horse’s temperament didn’t lend itself to
calmness in any way, shape or form. He
was high-strung and startled easily, but he was stout and sturdily built and
was known for his endurance. Adam picked
up the chicken that had fluttered into the stall. “Unless you wantta wind up stomped into the
ground I suggest you stay outta here,” he said as his fingers tightened on it
then he gave it a throw over the divider and went back to currying the horse.
“Hey, Jake,” Ham said behind
him. “Where’s Ross?”
“Right here,” Adam said as he
laid the brush aside and left the stall.
But the minute he saw his friend he knew that something was wrong. His mouth drew into a grim, flat line, and
his eyes had a hard glint to them.
“What’s wrong, Ham?”
“Ben Cartwright and one of
his sons came lookin’ for you just like you said he might. And I did just like you told me to.”
The blood drained from Adam’s
face making him even whiter, and he went hollow. “Where are they now?”
“They’re headed out of town
at a slow walk,” Ham said.
Adam went to the open doors
and looked out into the street. His
fingers dug into the doorjamb as he watched the backs of the two men as they
headed slowly away from him. The
silver-haired man was on a big buckskin and the younger one on a little
black-and-white paint. He almost wished
he hadn’t seen them, but another part of him was glad he had.
“I still think you’re wrong,”
Ham said as he stepped next to him, and his eyes followed his friend’s fervent
gaze. “I mean, if I knew I was gonna die
I’d wantta be with my family. But it’s
your life, and I can’t tell you what’s right for you. And I figger a man’s got a right to make his
own decision about where and when he’s gonna go if he gets the chance. And you did trust me enough to tell me when I
asked.” Then he reached out and gripped
his friend’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Ham,” Adam said as a
single tear ran down his cheek and longing swelled in his chest. Nothing had ever cut so deeply or hurt so
dismally. He yearned to run out into the
street and call them back and know he was once again with those who loved him
most. But he couldn’t do that, to spare
them any further grief, he just couldn’t do that. “Good-bye, Pa…. Joe.”
*****
Celia could hear him up in
his room. He’d been quiet all evening
since coming home from the stable and now he was up there pacing, his footfalls
loud and heavy. She couldn’t concentrate
on her crochet, and her eyes stayed on the ceiling.
Finally, she’d had
enough. “I’m going up there,” she said
as she slammed the needlework down on the side table by her chair and yanked
herself to her feet.
“No, you’re not,” Mrs. Hutchins
said as she continued with her own work, glancing up at her.
“But something’s wrong. It’s not like him to be so quiet and did you
see the grim look on his face when he came in?
I am going up there.”
“I said you’re not,” Mrs.
Hutchins said, her hook continuing through the thread. “If he wants to talk to us he will, but you
know I’ve never liked interfering in the private lives of our boarders.”
“But Mother…”
There was a knock at the
front door.
“Since you’re already on your
feet you can answer that.”
With a huffy jerk, Celia
stomped into the entryway and wrenched the door open. She was surprised to see the sheriff standing
there, his hand raised to knock again.
“Evenin’, Miss Celia. Is he
here?”
“Upstairs in his room. I was just about to go up there.”
“No, you weren’t and you
aren’t. Come in, Ham.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hutchins,”
he said as he stepped inside with his hat in his hands. “How long’s he been up there?”
“Ever since he came home,”
Celia said as she followed him into the parlor.
“He didn’t eat a bite, and he hasn’t said more than two words, actually
more like grunts. He went in and slammed
the door, and I can hear him pacing around.
I’ve never seen him this way, and I have no idea what’s wrong.”
“I do,” Ham said
solemnly. “His family came into town
today lookin’ for ‘im.”
Celia gasped and Mrs.
Hutchins finally put her crochet down.
“I gather they didn’t find
him,” Mrs. Hutchins said.
“Nope, ‘cause I told ‘em he
wasn’t here, that he’d rode out three days ago.”
“Oh, you didn’t!” Celia
blurted. “Why would you do that?”
“Cause he asked me to. Said he didn’t want ‘em to see ‘im like he is
now. And I got no right to judge ‘im or
go against his wishes. I told ‘im I
thought he was makin’ a mistake, but I couldn’t go against what he wanted.”
“Of course you could
have. This is his family, and right now
he needs them so much.”
Right then Ham made a
decision, and he hoped it didn’t cost him a friend. “I couldn’t go against what a dyin’ man
asked.”
“You don’t know he’s dying,
you’re not a doctor!” Celia flared. “How
do you know?”
“Cause he told me,” Ham said
evenly. “He was bit by a rabid wolf and
there ain’t no better for ‘im. I
promised not to tell nobody, but I thought you should know with him right here
in the house.”
The room went silent and
empty as a cave as the words crystallized into consciousness.
“His family, Sheriff, who are
they?” Celia asked softly, still stunned.
“I can’t tell you that,
leastways, not yet.”
“You mean, when he… when he’s
gone… you can,” Celia said, her voice saturated with sadness.
“That’s right,” he said
matter-of-factly. “Then it won’t make no
difference.”
“That’s cruel.” Celia dropped into the chair she’d been
sitting in.
“Yes, Ma’am, that’s
cruel. A lot of things’re cruel out
here,” he said sharply. “And it hurts
like blazes to watch a good man go through what he is, but these things happen. I know, that’s cruel too, but there ain’t
nothin’ any of us can do about it.”
Upstairs a door slammed and
then Adam burst down the stairs. They
watched him as he jerked the front door open and dashed out before anyone could
say anything.
“I’d best go after ‘im,” Ham
said as he started backing out. “In that state he’s just liable to hurt hisself
or somebody else. Night ladies.” Then he put his hat on and rushed out.
Mother and daughter simply
looked at each other, silence hanging in the air like a thick fog.
Ham hurried across the street
for Flower’s livery. He had a good idea
where his friend had gone, and he had to try to stop him before he rode out and
possibly broke his neck. Of course, he
knew he could be wrong, and maybe he wasn’t there at all, but he had to look
there first.
As he got closer he could see
soft lantern light bleeding out into the ever encroaching night and knew he’d
guessed right. When he walked inside
Adam was saddling the big dun with jerky movements and grim determination was
etched deep into his face.
“Where you goin’, Ross?” he
asked as he stepped closer to the gelding’s stall.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t
matter just as long as it’s out of this crummy, one-horse town.”
“I don’t think that’s such a
good idea. We both know you ain’t up to
it and…”
“It doesn’t matter what you
think. Nothing matters anymore.”
“You’re wrong about
that. You matter to a lot of folks,” Ham
said gently as he touched his shoulder.
“Now why don’t you…”
Adam slapped his hand away
and whirled with the fiercest kind of hatred burning in his wild eyes. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? I don’t need you! I don’t need anybody!” Then he went back to saddling the horse.
“I’m not gonna do that,” Ham
said as he tried getting between Adam and the animal. “Not until you settle down some.”
“I said leave me alone!” Adam
roared as he grabbed the lapels of the sheriff’s vest and bodily threw him from
the stall then went right back to work.
Ham reeled back but was
undaunted. This man was not going ride
out in the state he was in, even if he had to lock him up for the night. He went right to him, more forcefully this
time. “I said you’re not gonna do
it. Now if I havta…”
Adam suddenly jerked around,
and his fist connected with the man’s jaw and knocked him to the floor. Ham lay where he’d fallen, addled by the
surprise blow. It was like getting
kicked in the face by a mule. When he’d
collected some of his wits he looked up and the blood froze in his veins. Adam Cartwright was standing over him with a
pitchfork, and he knew better than to move lest he be run through. In all his years of sheriffing he couldn’t
remember fearing for his life any more than right now. Something ferocious and animalistic was alive
and stirring in the onyx eyes that sent a chill of the purest fear through Ham
Tyler. He fought to slow his breathing
and his raging heart, and still he didn’t dare move. “Adam,” he said softly, but with an air of
authority that was unquestionable.
The commanding voice cut
through like nothing else could and thoughts of his father dashed into Adam’s
mind. Gradually, the real world closed
in on him, and he realized what he was about to do. His arms began to tremble and burning tears
scorched his eyeballs, and as he looked at the man on the ground four other
faces flashed before him. With a moan of
unadulterated misery he threw the pitchfork aside and ran out into the night.
Every muscle in Ham’s body
relaxed and relief washed over him like a cloudburst. With an expulsion of breath, the release was
complete, and he could gather his frayed wits and go at it again. It was no telling where he’d gone this time,
but he knew he had to find him.
Ham busted into the entryway
of the boarding house without knocking or being admitted. Celia and her mother had gone back to their
crochet, though the girl’s mind really wasn’t on it. They came up out of their seats with the
abrupt intrusion.
“Hamlyn Tyler, what’s the
meaning of this?” Mrs. Hutchins demanded.
“Is he here?” he asked with
breathless urgency. “Did he come back here?”
“No, he didn’t,” Mrs.
Hutchins said curtly. “We haven’t seen
him since he rushed out of here with you after him.”
“What happened?” Celia asked
as she moved toward him, her fists clenched in anxious anticipation.
“I tried to settle ‘im down, and
I thought he was gonna kill me, and I was afraid he might’ve come back here.”
“Kill you?” Celia said, her
hands knotting tighter. “And you were…”
“I gotta find ‘im before he does hurt somebody, even if it’s
hisself. Do you have any idea where he
might’ve gone?”
“No, he’s never talked to us
much about that sort of thing.”
“I do,” Celia said and ran
out.
“Celia!”
“Don’t worry, Ma’am, I’ll
watch after ‘er.” Then he took out after
the girl.
Celia ran down the path that
ran along the side of the house and snaked its way to the grove of trees that
you could see from the back bedroom windows.
Her heart was beating like a frenzied tom-tom as her feet skimmed the
ground in their haste. She had to find
him, and she recalled seeing him here the other day when she’d come out to feed
the chickens.
As she moved in among the
large trunks, rough and foreboding in the darkness, she became aware of another
figure that wasn’t a tree. “Mr.
Benjamin…. Ross,” she said timorously hardly above a whisper.
After almost a minute she was
beginning to think she’d been wrong and thought to go back when the words
came. “I almost killed ‘im. May Heaven help me; I almost killed ‘im.” The warm baritone was so full of pain it made
her ache.
She decided not to say anything
now and let him get it out of his system.
“It’s like it wasn’t me
standing over him what that pitchfork, but whoever it was wanted to kill him.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. By the Grace of God, I didn’t, but I wanted
to.” He took a deep breath and it
drifted through darkness. “Now, you’d
better go back to the house, I’m too dangerous to be around. And the thought of ever hurting you…” He went silent again and began moving away
from her.
She lightly touched his shoulder,
and he spun around to face her. “Did you
hear what I just said? Now get outta
here before I do something that neither of us’ll be able to live with! Go on!” he stormed and gave her a not so
gentle push.
“No, I can’t do that, and I’m
not afraid of you.”
“You should be you little
fool! You have no idea!”
“Yes, I do. The sheriff thought we should know.”
“He gave me his word he
wouldn’t tell! It doesn’t matter
anymore! Now get outta here!” he shouted
and gave her another push. “I don’t want
you! And I don’t need your meddling!”
It felt like someone had
struck her with a rock and the pain ran as deep as the deepest river. “All right.
I don’t stay where I’m not wanted,” she said in quivering words. With a heavy sigh she started back toward the
house, but a faint whimper – actually more a glimmer of one – made her stop and
turn around. Vaguely, she made out the
form of him as he dropped to the ground.
She instantly went back and gropingly found him. She could feel him shaking, and he was tense
and shivering.
“Miss Celia!”
“Down here, Sheriff!” She looked around as a golden dot of light
bobbed along the path and steadily grew in size.
The small area was soon
illuminated by welcoming lamplight as her mother came to stand behind Sheriff
Tyler. Now they could see what she held
– the crumpled form of Adam Cartwright writhing in the throes of agony so
intense that they couldn’t have imagined it until now.
Ham crouched and placed a
hand against his chest. “We’re gonna
need help gettin’ ‘im back up. After
tonight I don’t think it’ll be safe for you ladies to have ‘im around, so we’ll
take ‘im to the jail where I can lock ‘im up.”
“You’ll do no such
thing. You’ll take him right back to the
house and put him in our room. Is that
understood?” Mrs. Hutchins said firmly.
“Yes, Ma’am, but I don’t
think…”
“There’ll be no more
discussion.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Ham said and
pushed himself away from the ground then started off briskly, carefully picking
his way.
Mrs. Hutchins knelt in the dewy
grass and held the lamp closer. “Poor
man,” she said as she pushed back the black hair. “Poor, dear man.”
SIX
Adam sat on the end of the
porch of the boarding house, his long legs hanging over the side, and his hands
clasped in his lap. Time was drawing to
a close, and he knew it. The headaches
were becoming more intense and more frequent and his temper more
uncontrollable. “Please, don’t let me
hurt somebody,” he whispered as he cast his eyes up. Maybe he should ride out now to die in the
wilderness.
From inside and unbeknownst
to him, Celia was watching him through the parlor window.
“Celia,” her mother said
behind her, “it’s not polite to spy on him.
I thought I’d raised you better than that.”
“You did, but somebody needs
to keep an eye on him. It’s been three
days since his family came looking for him, and he’s gotten even quieter than
before. He’s moodier, and he’s had
another one of those headaches that we know about, and he hasn’t been back to
the stable. Jake Flowers was here this
morning asking why he hadn’t come back.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“That he’d been sick, and he
still didn’t feel well. Mother, he’s
just getting weaker, and I can almost see him fighting to hold onto his
mind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody
fight so hard for anything.” Her voice
broke, and her fingers tensed in the lacey curtain. “He looks so lonely. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like for
him, and he needs somebody to be with him, and I’m going out there,” she said
forcefully.
Celia pulled back from the
window and started for the entryway, but stopped and looked back to her
mother. “Aren’t you going to tell me not
to interfere?”
“No, dear.”
That was when she knew that
it was more than all right, it was encouraged.
So with a smile she slipped outside.
She questioned if he heard her as she came quietly up behind him and sat
down next to him. “I remember when Nick
died,” she started tentatively. “I
thought my whole world had ended. I’d
known him since I was fifteen when we first came to this town; in fact, he was
one of the first people I really got to know.
He was seventeen and the dashing older man,” she said as her brow
dropped into a semi-frown. “At first we
were the best of friends and then we became more as time went on.” A sad smile turned her lips. “When he asked me to marry him I could have
walked on eggs without breaking a one.”
He didn’t move and continued
to stare out across the street, and she wondered if he’d heard what she’d said.
“When he wanted to go
“Why are you telling me
this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we just have to let others know that we’ve suffered too. I think there’s the basic need in all of us
to share our pain.” Her head lowered,
and her shoulders began to shake ever so slightly as the sobs she contained
within herself ran their course.
Soundlessly, warm, long fingers wrapped themselves around hers and
squeezed and their touch was comforting.
And the fleeting thought that he would soon pass from her in the
cruelest fashion tormented her like nothing ever had.
Mrs. Hutchins watched them
from the window in the front door and silently wept for both of them. She could see the promise of a relationship
stillborn and wondered what it could have become. She couldn’t miss how Celia had attached
herself to this dark-eyed, dark-haired, pensive man and guessed how it would be
when he was gone. And the thought of it
shredded her like an old newspaper.
With a sniffle into her linen
handkerchief she turned for the back of the house. Maybe she could find something in the kitchen
that would take her mind from all this, though she seriously doubted it.
*****
It had been another glorious
He stood on the front porch
steps, his eyes scanning the night. More
on instinct than anything, his right hand went to his hip and the reassurance
of the pistol, but it wasn’t there. After
what had happened after Pa and Joe came looking for him, Ham had taken it from
him. He frankly didn’t blame him, truth
to be told, he was glad he had, but it still rankled. Why couldn’t he simply trust him? His hands wadded, and he went down into the
street.
“Do you mind if I come with
you?”
“If you’d like,” he said
emotionlessly without breaking stride.
Celia pulled up the collar of
her robe around her neck and took a place alongside him. She was content to just be with him, and
she’d learned on these little strolls that it was best to let him break the
silence, if he wanted to. The first time
she’d dared to speak before him, he’d snapped viciously at her. And yet, even after all that had happened,
she felt no sense of danger in being alone with him.
She could feel his presence
more than anything because it was very dark.
His boots crunching against the dry ground accompanied her own along
with the swishing of her hems over the ruts in the road.
“It’s very dark tonight,” he
said evenly. “It’s like being in a deep
cave where nobody can find you.”
“I like the night too; it’s
not as noisy and hurried. I like the
calm and the way the blackness wraps around you. It makes me feel more like facing another
day.”
“You’re not just saying that
to make me happy, are you?” he asked sharply.
“Not a bit. When I was a little girl my sense of
adventure would take me out into the night after the rest of my family had gone
to bed. It made me feel a little naughty
and almost shameless. And then Nick started
going with me and we would walk and talk.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Oh, just things. About what we wanted to do when we got older,
places we’d like to go and people we’d like to meet. I’d read books about
“No, it doesn’t. I once dreamed of slaying dragons.” He took a deep breath and the pitch of his
voice changed. “But I guess this is one
dragon I can’t kill.”
At that moment she wanted to
take him in her arms and hold him forever and protect him from the
inevitable. But knowing that she
couldn’t – that no one could – wrenched her heart. As they continued on toward
the other end of town, she reached out to him and touched his hand, but he
pulled away.
“No,” he said gruffly.
Nothing else was said and
they simply walked until she dared to break the silence. “Tell me some more about Shakespeare.”
*****
It had been four days since
Adam had been to work at the stable, and he wanted to get back to it. He didn’t really feel up to it, but he’d
taken a job and it was his obligation to do his best. And it helped placate his growing
restiveness. Jake Flowers had been good
to work for, though the pay had been nothing to crow about. But the lack of money didn’t put him in dire
straights, and he worked because he’d worked most of his life and – like
breathing – it had become a habit.
He was sitting on a sawhorse
mending a leather harness, pulling the lacing through with quick, edgy
jerks. His mind was on it and nothing
else as Jake came in leading the big black.
He’d taken the horse outside and tied him under the tree along with
three others to let them get some fresh air and sunshine and crop the green
grass. Jake was very considerate of his
animals and took care of them almost like children; it was one of the things
that Adam like and admired about the wiry, little man.
But as they came in through
the doorway they stirred up a nest and the birds fluttered near the horse’s
ears. He tugged his head, literally
bringing Jake’s feet off the floor. “Whoa,
Adam was immediately at
Jake’s side, but the horse’s agitation only stoked the flames of his already
jangled nerves. “Calm down, son,” he
said harshly. “You’re all right.”
But the horse wasn’t used to
this voice using this tone with him and it only suited to rouse the big
animal. He reared with both men hanging
onto his harness, and as he did his knees bumped Adam in the chest, not enough
to hurt him, but it did knock him off balance.
He lost his grip and stumbled back.
His face glanced against a divider, and he fell into the straw in a
heap.
Jake finally got
*****
Celia came from the back of
the house at the frantic pounding on the front door. It told her that something was wrong and
simple logic told her it was Ross. She
yanked it open and was aghast when she saw two local men carrying the long,
unconscious body of Ross Benjamin, blood running down the side of his face.
“Bring him in this house this
instant,” Mrs. Hutchins commanded at Celia’s elbow. “And put him in our room on the big bed.”
“All right, boys, you heard
‘er,” Ham said as he stepped aside.
The two men manhandled him inside
and started through the entryway.
“Be careful with him!” Celia
snapped. “He’s not a sack of
grain!” Then she ran on ahead of them.
By the time they got into the
room Celia already had the larger of the two beds turned down. The men deposited their load on the soft
mattress and were dismissed by the sheriff.
Celia filled the wash basin with its matching milky white pitcher. She took her apron off and wet it, then sat down
on the edge of the bed next to him and began washing the blood away.
“What happened, Ham?” Mrs.
Hutchins asked as she and the sheriff stood the foot of the bed.
“That big black horse of
Jake’s got outta sorts and knocked ‘im into a stall divider. Jake said he went out like a light.”
“I don’t wonder,” Celia said
brusquely as she wiped his hair back from his face. “After what he’s been through I don’t wonder
at all.”
“Well, I’ll come back by
tonight and check on ‘im again.” Then
with a quick, painful glance at his friend he politely excused himself and
left.
Mrs. Hutchins stepped next to
her daughter and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Bless his dear heart. He’s suffered so much and now this.”
“Well, that doesn’t look so
bad with the blood washed away,” Celia said enthusiastically. “He should be up and around in no time.” She placed her hand softly against the side
of his face. “And then you can tell me
some more about Shakespeare.”
But in a dark place Mrs.
Hutchins knew what her daughter didn’t want to see. She knew that soon the house would be empty,
and she would miss the rich baritone.
She wasn’t going to tell Celia that, anyway, not yet. “Yes, dear….
I’ll bring you some more towels.”
Then she left and quietly closed the door.
“Now, let’s see if we can
make you more comfortable.” She removed
his boots and sat them by the footboard, and then she took the belt from its
loops. She decided to try taking the
vest off, but it was difficult with the long arms so she decided to wait until
the sheriff came back. Swallowing hard,
she pushed back against the terrible dread that was building inside her. “No,” she said ardently on a breath and shook
her head. “No.”
Into the night she sat with
him, only straying from his side to use the chamber pot in the small closet,
but never leaving the room. And no amount
of coercion from her mother could make her eat, and she only took water when
she had to.
The mantle clock in the
parlor struck two in the morning as she sat in the rocking chair and watched
him breathe. But his chest was all that
moved and gave any sign of life, and she hung on every breath. She continued to cling to the notion that
soon he would wake up and once again she would marvel at the dark hazel eyes
that sparked with intelligence. Eyes
that could look into a woman and dig out her deepest desires and feelings. Tenderly, she traced the edge of his fine
mouth with her fingertip and found herself envying all the women it had ever
kissed. For here, lying before her; was
a man as perfect as any mere mortal could be.
She leaned back in the chair,
and her eyelids fell as she listened to the soft, steady rhythm of his
breathing. And it didn’t take long for
it to lull her to sleep.
SEVEN
Celia rocked slowly and
watched him and still refused to believe he wasn’t going to come out of
this. In her deepest, hidden recesses
she knew better, but she denied the existence of such knowledge. The door opened behind her, but she didn’t
turn around.
“Afternoon, Miss Celia,” Ham
said as he stepped into the room. “How’s
he doin’?”
“About the same, but I expect
him to be awake before the day is out,” she said as she continued to rock. “He took a pretty hard knock and it’s just
taking a little time.”
Ham looked over at Mrs.
Hutchins standing next to him, and she shook her head with the hint of a frown.
“Miss Celia.”
“He’s going to be all right,
we have to believe that he is,” and her rocking quickened. “And I’m going to be right here when he wakes
up.”
“You know I ain’t one to give
up on nobody, but we all know that just ain’t so. You’re just foolin’ yourself into believin’
what you want to.”
“He’s going to be all right,”
Celia said sternly, and her rocking became even more frantic.
“Yes, Ma’am…. I’ll come back by tonight so I can…” but he
didn’t finish the thought and turned and left with Mrs. Hutchins.
The rest of the day drug by
like a snail and still Celia never left him.
It was around six when her mother came in with a bowl of soup.
“I’m really not hungry.”
“Not eating isn’t going to
help him one bit…. What would he tell you?”
After a long minute she
looked around at her mother. “He’d tell
me to eat, even if he couldn’t.” She
took the bowl and – though she loved her mother’s vegetable soup – this had no
flavor, it was simply hot, and she only ate about half of it.
It was a little after eight
when Ham returned as he’d promised and was disappointed to find no change, not
that he expected to.
“We’re all foolin’ ourselves
if we think he’s gonna come outta this.
Look at ‘im. He’s just plain too still,
and he didn’t hit hisself that hard.”
“No,” Celia said strongly,
“he’s just tired. We all know that he
hasn’t been sleeping. He’s just catching
up and we have to patient with him. It’s
only been a little over a day.”
“Celia, dear, you heard what
Ham said, he didn’t hit himself that hard.
Yet, he’s lying there like he’s already…”
“Don’t say it,” Celia
stormed, her eyes flashing around cold and blue. “Please, don’t say it.”
“This ain’t right,” Ham said
dolefully. “From what I’ve heard of the man
he wouldn’t want us settin’ around and pityin’ ‘im.”
All attention turned to the
sheriff.
“That’s right, you know who
he really is,” Celia said, instantly drilling in on him. “Then don’t you think his family should
know.”
“Yes, Ma’am, I do, but the
plain simple truth is, he don’t want ‘em to.
That’s why he come here. He
couldn’t stand havin’ ‘em watch this, so he just up’n slipped out in the night. Took off without hardly anything and didn’t
even have a gun. He had to buy what he
needed before he rode away from his home for good. Cleared out all the money he had in the bank
and just lit out.”
“His home, Sheriff, his
family,” Celia said, her hands tightening on the arms of the chair. “Won’t you tell us who they are?”
“I promised I wouldn’t until
it was over, but I don’t think it makes much difference now,” his sienna eyes
drifted from one lady to the other. “But
first you gotta give me your solemn word you won’t try to tell ‘em where he is. That’s my job, when the time comes.”
“You have mine, Ham,” Mrs.
Hutchins said resolutely.
“Miss Celia.”
Celia looked at each of them,
then to the still one on the bed. She
wanted to know, and she wanted to contact them, but she knew Ham Tyler well
enough to know he wouldn’t be forthcoming without her promise not to. And once given she could never go back on
it. “All right, Sheriff,” she said on a
breeze, “you have it.”
The pause was unnerving and
the resulting silence deafening. Then
Ham gripped a bedpost one handed. “He’s Ben
Cartwright’s oldest son, Adam.”
The quiet was as shattering
as it had ever been. Everyone in
Gordon’s Junction knew the Cartwrights and had heard of the four men that made
up this strong family. Ben’s love for
his sons was legendary and anyone with half a wit knew better than to come
between him and his boys or, Heaven forbid, harm one. The big one called Hoss was a gentle giant
that brooked no tampering with his father and brothers. Joe, the youngest, was lightning fast on the
draw and the temper, but was as intensely loyal to the family. And then there was Adam, the sensitive,
intellectual, college educated one that was more than willing to put himself in
harm’s path for those he loved. And he
was the one lying before her.
“Adam Cartwright,” Celia
whispered, unable to tear her eyes from him.
*****
The next two days were
uneventful and followed the same pattern.
Celia wouldn’t leave the room, her mother left her alone most of the
time except when checking on him and trying to get her daughter to eat, and Ham
came at least three times a day to see
about his friend. Celia had wanted to
put him in a nightshirt, but her mother and the sheriff had figured it a waste
of time, and she reluctantly relented.
It was early in the evening
when Mrs. Hutchins brought her daughter her supper. She knew it was a fruitless effort, but she
continued to try. Her heart sank as she
entered the room, and she saw him gradually slipping from life. He already appeared nearly dead, his thick
black eyelashes resting on his pale cheeks.
“How is he?” she asked as she
placed the tray on the bed table. It was
an unnecessary question, but she asked it anyway.
“Four days and nothing’s
change,” Celia said drearily.
“Why don’t you go upstairs
and get some rest? I can sit with him
for a while.”
“No.”
“Why not, child? You’re only tiring yourself out, and it isn’t
helping him.”
“Because he might go while
I’m gone, and when he leaves I want to be here.” She turned sad eyes to her mother and
struggled to get out the next words.
“This is it, isn’t it? He is leaving us.”
Mrs. Hutchins put her arm
securely around her daughter’s shoulders and looked down at him. “Yes, dear, I’m afraid he is.”
Celia fought down the anguish
that wanted to burst from her. How could
she make herself do this? How could she
make herself watch this wonderful creature pass from life she didn’t know? She only knew she couldn’t let him go without
her being there.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Mrs.
Hutchins said as she gave her a squeeze.
“Try to eat. I’ll be in the
kitchen if you need anything.” Then she
left the room and eased the door together.
Celia sat back in the chair,
the food completely forgotten. She
watched him for any sign of the cessation of life that she had been forced into
admitting was close at hand. Carefully,
she picked up one of the elegant hands, and it was cool. She placed it against her palm, uncurling the
long, tapering fingers and admiring their strong beauty. The memories of the times they had held hers
came back with a force that nearly knocked her over.
“I wish you could hear me,”
she said faintly as she smoothed back the heavy black hair. “I wish you could hear me, Adam
Cartwright. There are so many things I’d
like to say to you. And so many things
you could tell me that you couldn’t before.”
Her head bowed, and she
clasped his hand between both of hers.
The tears finally let go as she shut her eyes and made their way past
the long lashes. She didn’t try to curb
her weeping and gave her grief all the expression it required. Her pitiful sobs echoed through the room
giving release to the intense sorrow dammed up inside her.
Then the crying ceased as her
head suddenly shot up, and she gawked at his hand, her heart beating
madly. She stared at it as if willing it
to do her bidding. She was beginning to
believe it was only her imagination and fervent desires when the fingers
twitched. Her eyes widened, and their
blue grew more vivid by the second.
“Please, do it again,” she whispered.
But nothing happened, and she feared her hopes were in danger of being
hurled against the rocks when she looked to his face. She gulped, and her mouth fell agape. “Mother,” she said softly. She placed his hand back on the bed and
bounded from the chair, almost tripping on one of the rockers. “Mother!” she shouted as she flung the door
back.
The plate Elvira Hutchins had
been drying hit the floor with a resounding crash – breaking on impact – as she
whirled around. “Oh, Dear Lord,” she
said as she rushed for the hall.
As she came through the
entryway her daughter was standing with her back against the doorjamb. But as she got closer she saw not grief but
an odd, twisted expression that hinted more of amazement. “Celia?”
She took her mother’s arm and
Mrs. Hutchins could feel her all aquiver.
“Look,” Celia said and pointed toward the bed.
As Mrs. Hutchins looked
around an involuntary gasp left her and a hand slowly went to her throat. She and Celia stepped to the bed, and her
surprise only increased. “Hello,” was
all she could say.
EIGHT
Mrs. Hutchins was sitting on
the front porch where it was a little cooler, peeling potatoes, when Ham came
up the front steps. “Good morning, Ham,”
she said brightly. “You’re late. You’re usually here right after breakfast.”
“Ah, Tren Patterson and Lou
Jordon got into a fight at Dempsey’s and I had to throw ‘em in the jug to sleep
it off,” he said dryly as he pushed his hat back, releasing a shock of
hair. “How’s he doin’ today?”
“The same as yesterday and
the day before and all the ones before it.”
“Still just lays there and
looks at you, but never says nothin’, huh?
Is he still not eatin’?”
“No, with that he’s doing a
little better. That’s why these
potatoes. I’m going to cook them for our
dinner and give him the broth. And he
still can’t feed himself.”
“You reckon it’d be all right
if I went in to see ‘im?”
“You always ask that, and I
always say yes, so go ahead.”
Celia put the book aside and
rose from the chair to answer the knock.
“Sheriff Tyler, you’re late,” she said as she opened the door.
“Trouble at Dempsey’s,” he
said as he stepped inside. “Your ma says
he’s eatin’ better. And he looks better;
he’s got a little more color. Mornin’,
Adam.”
Adam was propped slightly on
two pillows and was wearing a nightshirt that had belonged to Celia’s
father. The dark hazel eyes only seemed
to look through Ham, interrupted briefly by a long, lethargic blink.
“Still ain’t said nothin’?”
“No, but it’ll come with
time.”
“Miss Celia, it’s been a week
since he woke up. He don’t talk, he
can’t feed hisself, he just lays there like a baby. He looks at you, but I wonder if he sees
you.”
“Oh, he sees you all
right. I’ve noticed his eyes following
me. And he can hear just fine. I’ve been reading to him, and he seems to
enjoy it.” She moved back to the bed and
picked up the book from the bed table.
“It’s a book of poetry. And in a
few days we’re going to sit on the front porch.”
“Now, Miss Celia, don’t you
think you’re gettin’ a little bit ahead of yourself? I mean, he ain’t even set up yet.”
“He will,” she said and
smiled as she looked at Adam. “We’ll
work on it.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said with a
dubious scowl. “Well, I best be gettin’
back to the jail and see how those boys are doin’. I’ll come back by tonight.”
“All right, Sheriff,” she
said without turning around.
The minute Ham stepped back
out on the front porch Mrs. Hutchins glanced up at him and couldn’t miss his
troubled look. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yes, Ma’am, I gotta…” he
started as he headed for the steps. But
he stopped and turned to face her, his eyes flicking toward the bedroom
window. “She says he’s gonna come out on
the front porch in a few days.” He shook
his head and tousled his hair. “He can’t
even set up or feed hisself, so how’s he gonna do that? She says they’re gonna work on it, but,
Ma’am, it’s been a week, and there ain’t nothin’ changed.”
“I know,” she said and let
her hands rest in the bowl. “I’ve tried telling
her that she may be hoping for too much, too soon…. And that maybe he’ll never be any better than
he is right now, but she won’t have it.
She insists that he’ll be up and around and talking before you know it,
but I’m afraid I can’t be so hopeful.
And I wonder if she believes as much as she lets on.”
“I know what you mean,
Ma’am. After knowin’ ‘im like he was and
seein’ ‘im like he is now… well, it’s just hard to…”
“I know.”
“Well, I best be gettin’ on
back. I told Miss Celia that I’d be back
by tonight.”
“We’ll be right here.”
He put his hat on and tipped
it politely then left. She shook her
head then went back to her peeling.
“Mother! Mother, can you come in here?”
The urgency in her daughter’s
voice drove Mrs. Hutchins inside. Celia
was standing in the bedroom doorway, and the look on her face bordered on
defeat.
“Celia, dear, what’s wrong?”
“I need some clean sheets and
a fresh nightshirt.”
Mrs. Hutchins face fell as
she glanced past her daughter. “Oh,
bless his dear heart.”
“I don’t know what we’re
going to do.”
“Wash ourselves to death,”
Mrs. Hutchins said with a kindhearted smile and touched her daughter’s
arm. “But he’s worth it if we have to do
washing until our knuckles bleed.”
“I know, but I was just
thinking.”
“That maybe it would’ve been
better if he hadn’t…”
“No, don’t say that,” Celia
said as her head came up.
“But we’ve both thought
it. For him to go through the rest of
his life like this is no life at all.
And sometimes it’s crueler to live.”
She gave Celia’s arm a pat. “I’ll
get the sheets and the shirt.” Then she
took her bowl of potatoes and left.
Celia leaned her head against
the doorjamb and closed her eyes. She
wanted to cry; how she wanted to cry.
Was he going to live out his days as helpless and dependant as an
infant? For the first time since he’d
opened his eyes, she felt utterly beaten.
Her optimism was beginning to wane no matter how hard she fought against
it. But for him she had to stay strong
for he relied on her, and she couldn’t let him see her this way. Not that she was sure he would notice
anymore, but even if he didn’t she would never give up on him. She wasn’t put together that way, and she had
to believe.
*****
Supper had been a resounding
failure, what with appetites damaged by the present sense of futility that was
slowly taking root. But Celia kept up
her cheerful, optimistic front, as did her mother when she came in where he
was. She hadn’t given in, that she could
never do, but sometimes, like now, it
was hard.
Celia sat in the rocking
chair, her bright head bowed over the little book of poetry. Her soft voice filled the room and wafted to
the ceiling and walls.
He saw her, and her delicate
voice filled his ears, and his thoughts that were slowly beginning to reform
themselves. This woman he recognized,
but a name to go with the face still hadn’t come to him. The words she was reading to him were like a
song without music, and he found comfort in them. She was so beautiful, and he wanted to touch
her, but his arm wasn’t in the mood to cooperate with him. He’d tried before and it had steadfastly
refused to do as he wanted it to. He
managed his first frown and concentrated on making his disobedient limb obey.
Celia was on the third stanza
of the current poem she was reading when she felt a light touch on her
elbow. Long, tapering fingers rested
there and it made her pulse quicken. Her
eyes rose to his, and she knew she discerned a reemerging intelligence lurking
in their amber-sparked depths. “You knew
you could do it,” she said and the words trembled. “And down deep so did I.” She took his hand, and her fingers laced with
his and it very nearly took her breath.
Her mouth turned into a reassuring smile, and she vowed they would get
through this together, now matter how long it took.
She turned back to the book
and – as she continued to hold his hand – she picked up where she had left off.
*****
“It’s been five days since
you first moved your arm. You’re sitting
up in bed, and I think it’s time you started feeding yourself,” Celia said
optimistically as she placed the tray on his lap. “We have some of Mother’s famous turnip
greens broth.”
His nose wrinkled and one
eyebrow rose as he looked down into the bowl of yellow-green liquid.
“I know you don’t really care
for it but it’s good for you. And you
need to rebuild your strength.”
“Celia,” Mrs. Hutchins said
as she stood by the smaller bed across the room near the door, “don’t you think
maybe you’re asking a little too much of him so soon? Don’t you think you could be moving too
fast?”
The dark eyes came swiftly
around to the older woman, and Celia caught it right now. “He heard you, Mother. I keep trying to make you and the sheriff
understand that he’s still in there. He can
hear, and he can see, and he can think, though maybe not as clearly as before,
and he’s having trouble making the rest of him do what he wants it to. He will, but he needs help, and I don’t think
waiting around for it to happen is going to
make it happen.” Then, with a light
touch, she placed the spoon in his hand and rested it on the side of the
bowl. “Now, give it a try, and if it
takes all day, then that’s just what it takes.
I’m not going anywhere.” She sat
back in the chair, and her eyes never left him.
Adam knew what he wanted to
do, but his arm didn’t seem to. It could
be petulant at times and didn’t always do what he told it to. He looked at his hand, then the spoon, then back
to his hand. His mind began furiously
trying to put thought and images and movements together, but somehow they
seemed jumbled around, and he was having difficulty straightening them
out. His frustration was growing by the
second; he wasn’t used to being so helpless.
He’d heard the sheriff call him a baby and right now he felt as
dependant as one. His aggressively
self-reliant spirit was tortured by his total inaptitude and it was eating away
at him like billions of carnivorous red ants.
His mind still couldn’t make the connection between action and result,
and his arm was taunting him. Then –
with sudden violence – he hooked his other hand under the tray and pitched the
whole thing. The broth splashed onto
Celia’s skirt as she came to her feet and everything wound up in the floor.
Mrs. Hutchins gasped and moved
closer, startled by the impulsive action.
“Did you see what he just
did?” Celia asked, eyes sparkling.
“I most certainly did,” her
mother said as her face pulled into a concerned frown.
Celia sat on the edge of the
bed next to him and took his shoulders firmly and looked deep into his
face. “I’m so proud of you. I don’t think you understand what you just
did, but I do. It took great effort to
do what you did, and I’m so very, very proud of you.” She put her hand tenderly against the side of
his face and kissed him on the cheek.
She could read confusion in
his eyes, and then they went to the mess he’d made. They lingered on it for several seconds, but
when they returned to her she knew she caught dawning comprehension in them. He was on his way back, and they both knew it
even if no one else did.
*****
“I don’t know about this,
Miss Celia,” Ham said as he managed to get Adam sitting on the side of the bed.
“You and Mother are always
saying that, and I’m personally getting tired of your constants doubts. If you don’t try how can you ever know if
it’s time or if you’re ready?” she said as she moved the rocking chair aside
then stepped back to stand by the footboard.
“If he’s not ready, at least this way we’ll know. But he’ll never learn to walk again by
staying in that bed.”
“And if he’s ain’t ready?”
“We’ll try again later, but
we will try again. Now, see if you can get him onto his feet.”
“All right,” Ham said and
shrugged noncommittally. Adam was pretty
much dead weight since he wasn’t helping out, but with a lot of grunting and
tugging the sheriff was able to get him standing.
“Good,” she said and held her
arms out. “Adam, can you take a
step? Just one. Can you come toward me just a little? You don’t have to worry about falling. The sheriff will hold onto you, and I’m right
here.”
Adam blinked and looked down
at his feet. He tried concentrating on
what it was she was asking of him. As
with lifting the spoon he was having trouble making the connection between what
he wanted to do and what would happen when he did. He continued to stare at them as if he could
make them move with his eyes. But
nothing happened, and he could feel his frustration coming back on him. He looked back to her and the yearning in her
eyes made him want to do it for her more than anything, and he put everything
he had into it.
“He did it!” she
squealed. “He moved his right foot!”
And then his left foot moved,
Ham still right at his side. “Good work,
buddy,” Ham said and patted him on the shoulder.
“I knew you could do it,” she
said, taking his face in her hands and – in her exuberance – she kissed him
right on the mouth. But when she
realized what she’d done her face turned a deep pink.
Ham held back on a grin. She’d gotten carried away, and he understood
why. His hands tightened their grip, and
he felt the sting in his eyes. His
friend, once so near death, had just taken two steps and, now, for the first time,
he thought that maybe things would get
better.
*****
Adam sat in the front porch
swing in his new robe and slippers.
Since he would be outside for others to see, Celia had thought he should
be seen with dignity. She’d gone to
Henry Merchant’s store and bought them, along with a new nightshirt. He’d been wearing the ones that had belonged
to her father, and she wanted him to have one of his own. Celia sat near his feet, her legs curled
demurely beneath her skirt and petticoats while she read to him. His hands were in his lap, but his eyes were
directed off across the street.
“Afternoon, Miss Celia,” Ham
said as he came up the steps. “It’s a
right nice day to be outside.”
“Yes, it is,” she said as she
closed the book and laid it down. “Even
with the window open that room’s a little stuffy. And a man can’t stay in bed all the time.”
“I can’t believe he’s come
this far in only five days,” he said with a perplexed shake of his head.
“Well, after those first
steps,” she said as she looked at Adam, “I knew it wouldn’t be long. A man that fights as hard as he has to live
is going to fight this just as hard.”
“Yes, Ma’am, but I think he’s
surprised near everybody but you.”
“Oh, I’ll admit that he’s
surprised me a few times as well.”
“Every time I come here he’s
lookin’ off and always in the same place.”
Ham followed his gaze, and his eyebrows went up. “It’s the livery he keeps lookin’ at, ain’t
it?”
“Yes, and that’s one reason
I’m glad you came by,” she said as she stood.
“I want you to help me get him down the steps, because we’re going over
there.”
Adam’s head came around, and
he looked straight at her.
“I don’t know, Miss Celia, do
you think that’s such a good idea? I
know it’s not that far a walk, but after what he’s been through, do you think
he’s up to it, that is, if we can even get him down those steps?”
“There’s only one way to find
out.” She looked into Adam’s direct
gaze. “And he wants to.”
Ham reluctantly agreed, and
he helped her get Adam to his feet. The
slippers scuffed over the hardwood of the porch floor. Celia got in front of him and took his hands
while Ham gripped his arm. It was a
tricky descent and the four steps looked like forty, but everything was going
well until the third step. Adam’s right foot
turned, and he pitched toward Celia. She
let go of his hands and grasped his upper arms as Ham caught him in a bear
hug. But it was no good, and all three
of them tumbled to the ground, and the dust whiffed up as they landed in a
wad.
Ham was the first to collect
himself and sat up. “Dang,” he said as
he ruffled the dirt from his hair.
Celia’s skirt and petticoats
were back over her head, and her pantalettes were out for the entire town to
see. Bracing her hands on the ground,
she sat up as well and puffed at the stray strand of hair that dangled over her
forehead. But her immediate attention
went to Adam. He was lying on his back
looking up at the sky. “Adam, are you
all right?” she asked as she placed a hand against his chest.
“Is he all right, Miss
Celia?”
“I don’t know. Adam.”
But as she got a good look as his face she saw that one corner of his
mouth was turned ever so slightly. “You
think it’s funny.” She snickered as she
glanced at the sheriff. “He’s trying to
laugh.” Then she began laughing – a
little at first – but it soon ran away with her.
And the contagion spread to
Ham as his robust guffaws joined her.
Celia took Adam’s hand and bent over it, and her laughter resounded in
him. He could feel the vibration as her
life and energy flowed through him. His
eyes went to the exquisite face contorted in hysterical mirth, and his fingers
tightened.
The screen door slammed as
Mrs. Hutchins came out onto the porch, and her hands went to her hips. “What in the world is going on here?”
Ham and Celia looked up, and
their laughter only intensified, and Adam’s eyes never left Celia’s face.
NINE
After the fiasco with trying
to get him down from the porch, Adam had been taken back to his room instead of
trying to go on to the livery. The
tumble and subsequent landing had seriously tired him, and Celia had decided
he’d had enough for one day. Now, three
days later, they were on their way.
Again with Ham’s help, they’d successfully navigated the treacherous
steps. Adam seemed to have a bit more
strength in his legs and Celia was confident that he could make the walk.
It was another beautiful
summer day. They sky was the clearest of
blues and filled with wispy white clouds.
Birds filled the trees and skittered and flitted among the leaves and
branches and sang with the pure joy of life itself.
With Celia on one side of him
and Ham on the other, Adam had no problems.
His anticipation was growing as they drew closer to their destination,
and he wanted to go faster, but it just wasn’t in him. He hadn’t seen Jake since the accident, and
he loved being around the horses. And,
in spite of what had happened, he felt a kinship with the big black, and he was
eager to see both of them.
As they stepped inside the
cool, gray interior of the stable, a mélange of smells assailed him. It was a mixture of horse, straw, manure and
weathered wood that cloaked him in familiar surroundings. Ham called out and the little man magically
appeared from a back stall.
“Well, well, well,” Jake said
as he approached Adam, “ya look a durn sight better ‘n ya did the last time I
seen ya.
How are ya feelin’, son?”
“He’s doin’ pretty good,
though he ain’t sayin’ anything these days,” Ham said with a clandestine frown
at Jake. “But he wanted to come see you
and the horses.”
“And it was just too nice to
stay in the house,” Celia said.
“It is that, Mrs.
Munroe. Purtiest day I think I’s seen
all summer.” Then an idea flitted over
Jake’s face and he disappeared into one of the stalls. When he came back he was leading Adam’s big
dun gelding. “I been takin’ real good
care of ‘im.”
Adam started pulling his arm
away from Celia, and she let him.
Slowly, and with a slight tremble, he began stroking the big animal’s
well groomed coat. Then he let his hand
rest on its withers, and his eyes roamed the stalls as if searching for something.
“If you’re lookin’ for ol’
Celia caught a look in Adam’s
eyes the moment Jake mentioned
“You may be right, Miss
Celia.”
“It’s been right good seein’
ya again, son,” Jake said then took Adam’s right hand. “An’ any time ya want your job back, it’ll be
waitin’ for ya.”
They said their good-byes and
thanked Jake and went out. But they no
sooner had when a scraggly-haired boy of about ten ran across the street headed
straight for Ham. “Sheriff! Sheriff Tyler!”
“What is it, Leroy?” Ham
asked as the excited boy stopped in front of him.
“It’s Tren Patterson,” he
puffed. “He says he’s gonna bust up
Dempsey’s.”
“All right, boy. I’m sorry about this, Miss Celia.”
“We’ll be all right. We’ll sit right under this tree and wait for
you.”
Ham helped her get Adam
settled back against the tree’s trunk then he took off with Leroy. But Celia didn’t mind the intermission. Since a child, she’d liked sitting in the
soft grass and now the company she found herself in made it all the more
pleasant.
“Hello, Mrs. Munroe.”
Celia looked around at the
abrasive voice of Ike Ratherton. Even
though not quite twenty-one he considered himself big stuff, but he had a
grating way and Celia – among many others – didn’t like him. Even so, he was usually harmless unless he’d
been drinking, and Celia could smell it from where she was. “Hello, Ike.
What’re you doing today?” she said in her best effort to be cordial.
“Juss passin’ the time o’
day.”
“So are we,” she said and
looked away from him.
“Juss you an’ the dummy?”
Her head shot around and fire
blazed up inside her. “Don’t call him
that. He’s more of a man than you could
ever even dream of being.”
“Well, now, why don’t you
juss come on over here an’ make me stop.
Or are you too much of a lady to be seen with the likes o’ Ike
Ratherton?”
Celia’s jaw clenched and she
got up and flounced over to him. “He’s
never done anything to you, and I don’t know why you would want to talk about
him like that.”
“He’s with you, and he’s too
stupid to even know what a good thing he has,” he hissed as he grabbed her arm.
“Ike, stop it, you’re
behaving like a child.” She tried
pulling away from him, but he grabbed her other arm. “You’re hurting me!”
“You think you’re so good,
always have,” and he started trying to kiss her. “Well, I’m gonna show you what a real man’s
like.”
“Ike, stop it! You’re drunk!” She continued trying to free herself from him
and avoid his unwanted advances.
“Not so much that I can’t get
all worked up over a beautiful woman,” he kept trying to pull her to him and
garner a kiss. “An’ you’re the best
lookin’ one in this dinky little town.”
“I said stop it! Let me go!”
But then Ike did stop, and
she looked around and saw that Adam was standing next to her.
“Well, if it ain’t the dummy
come to the lady’s rescue. An’ juss
what’re you gonna do?”
That was when she noticed the
dangerous glint in Adam’s eyes and it chilled her.
Kkkill… yyyou,” Adam said
softly.
She saw every ounce of blood
drain from Ike’s face, but then he snorted derisively and staggered back. “Ah, there ain’t a woman worth gettin’ killed
for or killin’ over. You’ll learn
that.” Then he wobbled off. “Dummy.”
But she wasn’t concerned with
him. Adam had walked without help and
spoken and that was all she knew. A
warm, gentle glow filled the dark eyes that looked down on her and it made her
heart thump.
“Ceeelia.”
Her lips turned, and she
placed a hand softly against his cheek.
“Yes, Celia.”
*****
Mrs. Hutchins stood near the
open parlor window and listened to the weak but still rich baritone. He was reading from the little book of poetry
she’d given her daughter for her birthday the previous year. It was slow and paused frequently, and her
daughter would help it along. She was
surprised at the progress he was making in such a short time. But she knew that his stubbornness and
Celia’s nurturing and gentle coaching had much to do with it. She was patient and understanding and never
lost her temper. In fact, she’d never
know the girl to have that much of a temper to speak of.
“Hhhow do I… lllove thee…
llet…”
“Me count,” Celia put in.
“… me ccount… the… wwways,”
he picked up.
But then it went quiet. Mrs. Hutchins eased the curtain back and
peeked out. A look was passing between
her daughter and this tall, dark man that was unmistakable. Rather than make her smile, however, it
worried her, because at this pace she knew he would leave before so awful
long. Being a Cartwright, he had family
and a home that – as with the geese in the spring – he must return to. And then there was the real possibility that
what they were feeling wasn’t love based on what it should be. She shook her head and took a deep
breath. Heartache was inevitable, and
she knew it.
Sadly, she turned and went
back into the kitchen to start supper.
*****
Adam’s appetite had long
since returned, yet this was his first time at the table. Celia’s inclination was to fill his plate for
him, but she knew that he needed to do it for himself, and given to his
independent nature, she knew he preferred it that way. She also had to hold her mother back from
waiting on him as well.
His eyes went to the bowl of
fried apples, and Celia read in his gaze what he wanted and handed it to
him. But as he took it from her his hand
gave out, and he dropped it. It hit his
glass of milk, turning it over. Celia
sprang to her feet as a white stream came in her direction.
“It’s all right,” she said as
she grabbed her napkin and began blotting.
“There’s plenty more milk and the apples aren’t harmed.”
“Scuse me,” he said then
slowly left the dining room.
“Oh, Mother,” Celia started
as she plopped into her chair, her face twisted in anguish for him, “sometimes
he tries so hard it makes me want to cry.”
“I know, dear, but he’s come
so far. To tell you the truth, I didn’t
think he’d ever even make it back to this.
And I, for one, am very proud of both of you.”
“Me?”
“Well, if it weren’t for you
working with him constantly I don’t think it would’ve happened. You’ve never given up on him, even when
others have.”
“There was a time when I
almost did. When we were changing him
and cleaning him like a baby I thought…”
But before Celia could finish
Adam appeared in the doorway. He was
wearing a long pillowcase tucked into the front of his shirt as a bib and a
wicked gleam shone in his eyes. “Tttry
again.”
The women looked first at him
then at each other and burst out laughing as he returned to the table and sat
down. Adam’s indomitable will and wit
had survived.
TEN
Cooler weather set in as
September eased up on everybody. The
leaves were beginning to turn and the winter coats of the dogs and cats were
becoming quite shaggy. The seasonal
birds were leaving in droves for warmer climes and squirrels had long been busy
storing nuts and seeds in their larders.
Adam had come a long way
since near dying back in July and improvement showed daily. For the past two weeks he’d been spending
more and more time with Ham and their friendship had formed into an unbreakable
bond.
Celia answered the knock at
the front door and wasn’t surprised to find the sheriff. She invited him in just as Adam was coming
gingerly down the stairs. Against
Celia’s disapproval he had moved back into his old room.
“Are you ready?” Ham asked as
he looked to him.
“Yes,” Adam said with a nod,
“but I haaven’t… told her yyet.”
“Told me what? What’re you two up to?”
“You’ll see,” Adam said as he
took her elbow and led her out onto the front porch.
Amid her protestations they
took her across the street and started for the livery.
Her eyes widened as she
grasped where they were headed. As they
approached, Jake led the sheriff’s saddled horse and the big dun rigged out in
Adam’s gear outside. Celia’s heart leapt
into her throat as she understood what was going on.
Without any discussion Ham
went to his horse and climbed into the saddle.
Celia watched anxiously as Adam took the reins from Jake and eased up onto
the dun’s back.
Her mouth fell open, and she
glanced at Ham. “So this is where you
two have been slipping away to.”
“Wwwant to… cccome with us?”
Adam asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the
world.”
But as she turned to look for
Jake the little man had already brought out a sleek roan all ready for her. He
helped her get mounted, and the three of them headed for the opposite end of
town at a walk.
Celia was not what one would
call an accomplished horsewoman, though she had ridden some. She kept her mount close alongside Adam’s and
Ham did the same on the other side. But
they had to go into single file – Celia in the middle – as they took a little
used path that led off from the main road that ran through town. It wound through pines and came close to the
edge of a small stream in spots. Once
they flushed a family of deer, a buck, doe and twin fawns that bolted away and
disappeared into the brush.
“It’s beautiful here,” Celia
said. “I haven’t been out this way in a
long time.”
“Neither had I, Miss Celia,”
Ham said, “till me and Adam started comin’ up this way on our rides.”
“I don’t know how you were
able to keep that from me for so long.”
“We’re sneaky,” Adam said.
As he turned in the saddle
and glanced back at her she caught a crafty grin and the dark eyes that
glittered mischievously in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the
trees. This man had a zest for life that
inspired her and instilled in her awe and admiration. He’d fought death to a standstill and now seemed
to be winning against the state he’d been left in as the result. Her knees tightened involuntarily against the
horse’s side, and the roan began to sidle and dance sideways. A comment from the sheriff made her realize
what she was doing, and she eased up, and the horse settled down again.
They rode on a little farther
and dismounted near a rocky outcrop that overlooked the deepest part of the
stream. The horses grazed while they
stepped to the edge and looked down into the water and around them.
Adam felt a stirring in his
heart as he let the countryside take hold of him. This was so like the creek that cut through
the edge of Strawberry Meadow.
Strawberry Meadow, Gobbler’s Ridge, Grizzly Creek, Rattlesnake Gorge;
all names that conjured up images of home.
Chubb, Buck, Cochise and his beloved Sport. Roy Coffee: sheriff of
“Well, I think we’d best be
gettin’ on back,” Ham’s voice broke the spell.
“I don’t want the town fallin’ apart while I’m gone.”
“Or do wwell, and they
reealize they… don’t neeed you.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Ham said
with a wry smirk.
They got mounted and started
back along the path. Adam was eager to
get back to town; he had more work to do.
*****
Adam was quiet that night at
supper, even more so than what was usual for him since his illness. Celia and her mother exchanged concerned
glances; they had known him long enough to know when something was seriously
bothering him. He stabbed at his food
with his fork and chased it around his plate, and his eyes stayed drilled in on
the tabletop. At a light touch on the
back of his hand his head shot up, and Celia gulped at the restlessness she saw
there. What she feared most was drawing
closer and she read it in his distant gaze.
“Can’t you eat just a
little?” she asked.
“Not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since dinner
and it you don’t you’ll get too weak to do anymore riding.”
The corner of his mouth
turned. “Yes, Mmmother.” He gathered up his plate and glass of water
and pushed away from the table. “Gggoing
outside to think.” Then he walked out.
Now Celia had lost interest
in her own meal, and she continued to stare after him.
“We both knew that the day
would come when he would leave us. At
first we thought death would take him and now it’s his home and family
beckoning. You can’t hold him away from them.”
“I know that,” Celia said as
she looked slowly around. “And I
wouldn’t even want to try, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dread the day when he
rides out of my life, maybe for good.”
“You have to let him go. But if he loves you, truly loves you, he’ll be
back.” She placed a comforting hand on
her daughter’s arm. “And you need to
make sure that what you feel for him is love and not something else.”
“What else could it be?”
Celia asked, her eyes narrowing.
“I think you know. You’ve watched after him and taken care of
him; you’ve helped and been there for him.
When he fell, was confused, when he wasn’t even sure who he was you’ve
been right there. You’ve gotten used to
having him rely on you, and I just don’t want you to confuse love with the
sense of being needed. You’ve been hurt
enough, and I don’t want it to happen again.”
“It’s already happening
again.” Celia smothered a whimper and
cupped her hands over her mouth and nose.
Her eyelids closed tightly, pressing out the tears that ran down her cheeks. Her mother’s fingers tensed on her arm, and
she almost wished she’d never seen Adam Cartwright. Almost.
*****
Adam sat on the porch step
watching the night sky. He was having
his first sleepless night since he’d been so deathly ill. Death. Why had it decided to throw him back after it
had gotten such a, well, death grip on him?
He was nothing special, no more than anyone else who’d had what he did. So why did he survive when so many others
like Jamie Pierce hadn’t? He shook his
head and ruffled his hair. The answer to
that question wasn’t for him to know, and he’d only drive himself insane trying
to figure it out. And while he was about
it he had another question to ask himself.
And this one was just as impossible to answer. How did he really feel about Celia
Munroe? She was a beautiful woman to be
sure, and her personality only heightened it, but did he love her in the way a
man should love a woman?
“You’ll dddrive yourself…
crazy trying tto… figure that one out, Ccartwright.”
He had to go home when the
right time came and let his family and friends know he was still among the
living, but what about Celia? He groaned
and rested his head in his hands. This
thing was getting knottier than an old pine.
Well, it wasn’t time to leave yet and maybe by that time he’d have it
figured out.
Wwwho’re you trying to kid?”
In a pique of anger he
slammed his fist into the porch post. He
couldn’t just spring his speech impediment on his father. Ben Cartwright’s perfect son was now flawed. He snorted and shook his head. “I alwways have been… buut Pa juust couldn’t
see it.”
No, when he went home he had
to be as good as he could be. He knew
that Pa would love him no matter what, but he couldn’t stand the look on his
father’s face when it took him ten minutes just to recite the alphabet.
He groaned again and went
back inside. The house was dark except
for the faint light that came in through the lacey curtains. He looked toward Celia and her mother’s
bedroom door and wished he could tell her how he felt, but he wasn’t even sure
himself so how could he? Slowly, he
started up the steps, sliding his hand along the banister, but he only got as
far as the top landing. He sat down and
leaned his elbows on his knees. Why go
back to his room when he wasn’t sleepy?
He’d sit here and think a little while longer and maybe he’d figure some
things out.
*****
Adam was grimly determined to
clear up his speech, so beginning right after breakfast he would read
everything he could get his hands on. It
was one of the few things he’d settled in his mind through his sleepless night.
He went straight to Mrs.
Hutchins and asked if there were anymore books lying around.
Her soft blue-gray eyes
twinkled as she dried her hands on her apron.
“Come with me.”
He followed her obediently as
she climbed the first flight of stairs to the second floor, then she opened a
door that he’d often wondered about. She
led him up a narrow stairwell and a second flight of steps to an attic. It was stuffy so she opened its two windows
to get a good cross draft. The room bore
no cobwebs and hardly any dust, and he could imagine Mrs. Hutchins coming up
here and dusting on a regular basis.
There were barrels and trunks, an old chair with an arm off and a wooden
rocking horse that had definitely seen better days. If it had been a real horse someone would
have shot it a long time ago, he mused.
Without a word she went to a
large dark brown leather-bound trunk and opened back the lid. As Adam stepped next to her his eyes nearly
popped from his head. It was filled with
books.
“Is ttthat all boooks?”
“Yes, they belonged to my
husband. He loved to read. I can remember him reading to me and the
girls when they were small.” She bent
down and took one of them off the top.
“He loved all his books, but I think this one was his favorite.”
Adam took it from her and
opened it to the title page. “The Lllast
of the… Mmohhhicans by Jaames Fenimore Cooper.”
“I can still hear his voice
as he added feeling to it,” she said with a fond grin. “It’s not surprising that it’s Celia’s
favorite too.”
“Is it aaall right iif I look
through… ttthem?”
“Go right ahead, dear. I know Simeon would be delighted that
somebody’s enjoying them again,” she said as she gave him a pat on the
arm. “I’ll be back in the kitchen if you
need me.” Then she went back downstairs
and left him in his own world.
He sat down in the floor and
crossed his legs. As he started through
them he couldn’t believe what he was finding: Frankenstein by Mary Shelly, The
Last Days of Pompeii by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Twice Told Tales by Nathaniel
Hawthorne, Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens and Essays by Ralph Waldo
Emerson. With each new volume he
discovered Adam felt like he was in the Library at
*****
Mrs. Hutchins turned from the
table where she was mixing pie crust.
She knew she’d heard Celia come in and expected her to bring in what
she’d gone to the store for. She went out
into the entryway, but it was empty.
“Celia,” she said softly and looked in their room, but her daughter
wasn’t there. When she came back through
she thought she caught the faint trace of a voice so she started upstairs. As she got closer to the source she realized
it was decidedly more masculine. She
went to the doorway that led to the attic and found her daughter sitting on one
of the steps, the groceries next to her.
Celia looked at her and held one finger against her lips. The soft baritone floated down the stairwell
and filled it with a reading from Keats that the house hadn’t known for many
years. Mrs. Hutchins sat down next to
her daughter and they just listened.
ELEVEN
As Adam stood on the front
porch a chilled breeze blew, and he shivered.
He was almost ready and it would soon be time for him to start back to
the Ponderosa. He and Ham had talked
about it, and he could see by the way she watched him that Mrs. Hutchins sensed
it. But he hadn’t said anything to
Celia. Since that night – not so far
distant, when he couldn’t sleep – he’d come to realize something, and he wasn’t
quite yet sure how to put it into words.
Well, the time for him to work up the guts to do it had come.
The door opened behind him
and a warm arm slipped around his. He
looked down at her in the decreasing light, and his lips found hers.
Now he was confused more than
before. He’d expected the kiss to tell
him how he felt and it only served to confound him even more. The plan had been to tell her as soon as he knew
– one way or the other – but this had not been what he’d expected.
“Supper’s ready,” she said
quietly, and her arm tightened on his.
Maybe he could lie to her,
but what would that accomplish? In time,
both of them would come to regret the lie and possibly hate each other for it. No, the truth was the best way, no matter how
painful, but he knew that the longer he drew it out the more difficult it would
be. For tonight, however, he would
simply enjoy her company and tomorrow, well, tomorrow would take care of
itself.
Turning her gently, they went
back into the house, and the sky continued to darken.
*****
As had become common practice
after the evening meal, Adam read while Celia and her mother crocheted. His voice had become smooth and even with
hardly a pause or drawing out of his words.
The rich baritone had also gained strength and resonated with power
renewed. Adam was returning to the man
Celia had never known and she found increasingly a stranger in her midst. He’d begun speaking of things that were
totally alien to her and of people she didn’t know, and she could see his
yearning to return home grow with each passing day. His independent nature had also reasserted
itself, and he relied on her less and less though his physical self still had a
way to go. She could see herself losing
him to his other world and, it hurt as badly as she thought it would.
Glancing up at him, she
smiled. She knew it was time to let him
go and – even though she knew it would sting – she was glad that she’d played a
part in returning him to his family.
*****
The weather was growing
progressively colder and more inclement and it seemed to augment Adam’s
restiveness. He’d gone to check on his
horse and maybe visit with Jake a little, Celia was standing at the front screen
door when she saw him returning, his long-legged stride, still slightly
uncertain; driving home what she knew was at hand.
“That’s the fourth time he’s
been to the livery this week,” Mrs. Hutchins said as she stepped next to her
daughter.
“I know,” Celia said
sullenly. “He said it’s to spend some
time with Jake, but I saw Mr. Flowers yesterday, and he said he comes to check
on his horse and make sure his saddle and bridle are in good order.” Celia went silent as she watched him draw
closer. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t
leave at the end of the week.”
“I, for one, will be sorry to
see him go. I’d forgotten what it was
like to have a man around that was something more than a boarder. When he reads to us…” a sad smile turned Mrs.
Hutchins’ mouth and tears misted her eyes, “it’s like having your father
back. A woman’s house is so empty
without a man’s voice.”
Celia took her mother’s hand
and squeezed it. “I know, and he has
such a beautiful voice. I was afraid for
a time he’d never use it again.”
“What a loss that would’ve
been. But thanks to my stubborn, caring
daughter he did and so much more.”
Adam came lightly up the
steps and crossed the porch to them.
“What’s for supper? I’m
ssstarved.” And then his bright mood
tarnished some. “And I have something to
tell you.”
Mother and daughter glanced
at each other as he came in behind them and neither had to tell the other that
she knew.
*****
After supper and a reading
from Shelley, Adam dropped his little bombshell and it drove Celia out onto the
porch and into the biting night air.
Adam snagged her shawl from the coat tree in the entryway and went out
after her. As he came up behind her, he
draped it over her shoulders, and she clutched it together in front.
“I’ve known for some time
that this was coming. I’ve been watching
you grow more restless everyday…. And if
I really listen I can hear your family calling to you.” She turned to him. “And it’s long past time they learned that
they haven’t lost you. You should’ve let
somebody contact them before this.”
“I wasn’t reeady, and they
weren’t reeady to see me like I was.”
“If they love you it wouldn’t
matter,” she said and turned away from him.
“I mattered to me.” His eyes roved over her, and he knew that he had
to say the rest of it. Putting it off
wasn’t going to make it go away. He
grasped her shoulders firmly and turned her to face him. “There’s something we need to get
sstraightened out and putting it off won’t help the matter…. Celia, wwe’ve come to mean a great deal to
each other but now it’s time to get things out in tthe open.”
She let her eyes trace over
his troubled features in the lamplight coming from inside the house. “You mean how we really feel about each
other.”
“That’s right. Wwwe need to know if what wwwe feel is love
or something else masquerading as love.”
“You aren’t in love with me.”
“Yes, I am, but I’m just nnot
sure if it’s the way a man should love a woman he intends to marry. You mean a lot to me. You saw me through the darkest ttime in my
lllife, and when I first opened my eyes there you were. You were there every step of the wwway, and I
love you dearly for it but…”
“But you just don’t know if
it’s love or gratitude.”
“That’s exactly it. And I need ttime to sort it all out.”
“I need time too,” she said
softly. “I’ll never forget what we’ve
had together. You’ve given me some of my
most cherished memories and for that I adore you. But am I in love with you or is it something
else? I don’t know. Mother said to make sure and right now… I
just don’t know.”
At that moment he thought his
heart would break, and he threw his arms around her and clutched her to
him. How he wished he could in all
certainty tell her that he loved her that way beyond a shadow of a doubt, but he
couldn’t. And it wouldn’t be fair to her
for him to enter into something just to keep from hurting her when – in the
long run – he could hurt her even more.
*****
Adam said his good-byes to
Jake Flowers then led the big dun – all saddled up and ready to go – out of the
stable and started for the boarding house.
The sun had been up for probably a little less than an hour. He’d wanted to get a bit earlier start, but
he wasn’t going to steal away like a thief in the dark. And the night before Mrs. Hutchins had
insisted that he wait until he’d had a decent breakfast. Bacon, fried apples, gravy, scrambled eggs
and golden biscuits with butter and molasses certainly qualified.
As he came up to the porch
Ham and the ladies were waiting for him by the front steps.
“Well, friend,” Ham said, “it
looks like this is it. You sure you
don’t want me to ride half way with you just to make sure you’re gonna be all
right?”
“I’m sure, Ham. After the care I’ve had, I can make it.” Adam’s hand came out. “Thanks for being the kind of friend a man
can rrrely on.”
“That was the easy part,” Ham
took his hand and shook it. “But turnin’
my back on a trust…”
“You did what you thought was
rright, and I can’t fault you for that. I
should’ve ddone it myself, but I wasn’t thinking too clearly then.” He gave Ham a slap on the arm. “And about those letters.”
Ham took three envelopes from
his shirt pocket and handed them to him.
Adam took them and stuck them inside his coat and nothing more was said
between them.
Then Adam moved to Mrs.
Hutchins. He couldn’t miss the sadness
in her face or the tears in her eyes.
“I’m glad you didn’t let me mmove to the hotel.”
“Oh, don’t mention that,” she
said with a wince. “The thought that I
could have ever been mad at you for anything makes me feel ashamed. You’ve been the perfect boarder, no; you’ve
been more than a boarder, you’ve been part of my family. And I’ve enjoyed your reading; it brought
back so many wonderful memories. So much
so that I want you to have this,” she said and took a cloth wrapped item from
under her apron and handed it to him.
He eyed it for a second then
removed the covering and found a tan leather-bound book. He opened it to the title page, and his eyes
widened. “Poetry by Byron. It’s one of your hhhusband’s books. I can’t take this,” he said and held it out
to her.
“Yes, you can, dear,” she
said and closed her hand over his. “I’d
only give it to somebody who’d enjoy it as much as Simeon did. Now you take it, unless you want to hurt an
old woman’s feelings.”
“I’ll take it and prize if
for the rest of mmy life.” He bent down
and kissed her on the cheek. Then he
looked to Celia, and his expression changed.
“Ham,” Mrs. Hutchins said
briskly, “what would you say to a cup of hot coffee?”
“On a day like this I’d say
just lead me to it.”
Ham and Mrs. Hutchins went
inside and Adam glanced after them.
“Your mother has the tact of a diplomat.”
“I know,” Celia said, and her
voice quivered, “she always has. Are you
absolutely sure you don’t want to stay one more night?”
“No, but I’m absolutely sure
I need to get mmoving. It’ll soon be
October, and I don’t want to get caught in the ssnow.”
She nodded and tried to be
brave about the whole thing, but it wasn’t exactly working. Putting her hand to her mouth she began to
cry. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,”
he said as he put his arms around her and held her close. “You cry all you waant to. Even though we know it’s better tthis way it
doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.” He turned
her face up to him and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Remember, we’ll give ourselves a year
apaart. That should be ssufficient time
to know. And if we’re meant to be
together, we will be.”
“But a whole year.”
“It’ll ffly by before you
know it.”
She let herself meld into
him, and she knew she was a fool to let him go.
But, like him, she had to know, one way or the other, and it was too
late to turn back now. Even if it hurt
like no other pain.
He looked into the bottomless
wells of her eyes, and knew he would take them to his grave. Her lips were so inviting, and he knew that
an opportunity missed was an opportunity lost.
It didn’t bother him one bit who saw him as his dark head lowered, and
he kissed her. He put the little book in
his coat pocket and brought the collar up around his neck and shaggy black
hair. He checked the bag of provisions
tied to the horn then climbed into the saddle and wondered if he was making a
mistake. With one last look at her he
turned the big horse and started away from her and maybe away from a true
chance at happiness. But he’d always
heard that absence made the heart grow fonder and time would tell. He nudged the dun with his heels and picked
up speed and didn’t look back. He just
wanted to get out of there. Home lay
ahead of him, and he needed to see his family.
And maybe, just maybe, someday he would return to Gordon’s Junction and
Celia Munroe. Only time would tell.
THE END