Cole's Redemption (Love Amongst the Pines) (32 page)

             
When, at last, he reached that small, warm center of her, he found her moist and ready. In the early morning light, she looked like a painting by some obscure artist, her skin flushed and radiant. He stood seconds from abandon when he gazed at her one last time; the soft blonde curls of her hair contrasting with the sharp red shape of her mouth, the wine colored tips of her breasts hard and expectant, waiting for his kisses. He slid his hands down her firm, flat belly, where he imagined one day a child would grow, perhaps one born of this final union between them. From there, he slid his hand further and further down into to soft nestle of curls between her thighs. This was his love, his being, his soul, and he surrendered himself to her with every last once of his energy.

             
Natty did not move so much as a muscle as she lay beneath him. They had spent their last time together reclaiming a life that would soon be taken from them. She prayed to God for him, but she knew that there were some things even He was not capable of fixing. Evil existed in the world, she was certain. Just as the sun rose and set, so did hatred and anger tread upon the
earth.

             
He lay on top of her, now; his long body between her legs, his head resting in the valley between her breasts. Natty gently caressed his forehead, and timed her breathing with his. For this moment, they were sated, they were spent, and the world was a safe and precious place.
For the moment.

             
Natty barely breathed as time ebbed around her. Even though the two of them had just made love, she felt a new thirst of desire beginning again in that place where he'd just touched her. She knew no amount of lovemaking would ever be enough to quench it.

Natty cried out when Cole stirred to rise from her. His expression was stricken as well, when he leaned over one last time and kissed her deeply.

             
"It's almost time," he whispered, as he began pulling on his clothes. Natty, did the same, straightening her skirt, and buttoning her blouse.

             
The door from the jail office rattled. She heard someone approach, and then the jangle of dishes being carried on a tray. The door opened and Sheriff Watkins and Judge stepped inside. Behind them were Doc Evans and Preacher Dean.

             
"It's almost seven," Judge told them. "We'll let you stay another hour or so, Natty, but then we're going to have to start preparations. We brought you some breakfast. When you're done, just holler out, and we'll get the dishes."

             
He turned as the other men set down their burdens on the small table in the corner of the cell.

             
"How're the hands?" Doc asked as he approached to check his patient.

             
"Fine, Doc, just fine."

             
The other man nodded as he examined his wrappings. "If you need something to help your nerves, I've got my bag in the other room."

             
"No, thank you. I'll be all right."

             
That was when Preacher stepped up. "Perhaps we should spend this last hour in prayer, from our mouths to God's ears?"

             
Cole nodded. "I've never been a truly religious man, sir, but I would like very much to give Him thanks for all that he's given me."

             
Natty stood up then and walked towards the window. Desperation filled her. She was torn between wanting to stay the last hour with her husband, or go to the man responsible for it all. She knew she had to try one last time to convince him that her husband should live.

             
"Cole, I have to run an errand. You need this time to be alone, and I have to do something."

             
Cole shook his head. "I know what you're thinking, Natty. Don't go begging for me. I know you think it might do
good
, but it won't. I understand if you don't want to stay here, though."

             
"I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you. But, Cole, I've got to try. Please, let me do this for you."

             
She watched the emotions play across his face.
First anger, then fear, and finally acceptance.
He swallowed hard, and nodded.

             
"You've always been your own woman, Natty. You do what you think is best. I won't go anywhere without you."

             
As the crowd started to gather at the other end of town, Miriam,
Melly
, and Dermott arrived at the jail. They met Natty coming out.

             
"How is he?" Miriam asked. She watched her daughter-in- law's face for any sign of trouble, but the other woman gave no hint of anything other than her own anxiety.

             
"He's as well as can be expected. I'm going to go see that ranger. Might be I could change his mind."

             
"You'd better hurry, Miss,"
Melly
said. "We just came from there, and he's doing rather poorly this morning."

             
"Damn near thing.
Mebbe
he'll cross the river of death before you get there," Dermott added.

             
Natty only nodded. "Just the same, I'm going to go have a talk with him."

             
Doc Evans came out of the jail behind her. "Let's go Natty; we've not got much time, either way."

             
Miriam stood silent while she watched the two
walk
away.
The tall, gangly form of the doctor and the smaller, petite form of her son's wife.
Less than a week before, if someone had told Miriam that she'd have yet another daughter-in-law to contend with, she would have gone into a fury. But, watching the dignity the woman carried as she headed to the doctor's office, Miriam gained a new appreciation for the jewel her son had found in the middle of the desert his life had become.

             
"We'd best go, Mrs.
Remmington
,"
Melly
said gently beside her.

             
"Of course." Without looking back, she entered the jail.

             
In all the years before she'd left her home on the lake in Boston, Miriam had never ventured far. She'd stayed to the security of the huge brick mansion, the local church, a few friends' homes, shopping, and an occasional trip to the country. She'd never even been inside a jail her entire life, but since setting out on this pilgrimage, she'd visited every hoosegow between Massachusetts and South Dakota. On the surface, this place was no different.

             
A layer of dust covered everything in the building save for one oak desk and the two chairs that occupied it. There was a single fireplace, the coals long gone out, and a door that led to the back rooms where the prisoners were kept. Along one wall was a locked cabinet; she guessed it was a gun rack inside. Another cabinet sat beside it. The top drawer was half open with a scattering of papers
visible,
all were stuffed in willy-
nilly
.

             
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the course smell of stout cigars and old coffee. Glancing around, it was easy to tell that this was a man's place and would be so until the end of time.

             
"Mrs.
Remmington
," Judge said softly from the doorway. "Cole says he'll see you now."

             
The preacher and the Sheriff exited the room. Both were visibly shaken, and gave her a polite nod before hurrying past her. Steeling herself, Miriam took a final breath before entering. No amount of preparation would keep away the pain of seeing her only child behind bars and
awaiting
his final moments on earth.

             
"Mother," Cole said quietly. He was seated on the
cot,
his shoulders hunched forward and his head bent. He held his hands clasped in his lap. He looked tired and world-weary. Miriam did the only thing she could think of to do. She rushed forward and knelt before him, drawing him forward until his head rested on her shoulder. Wrapping her arms around him, she shared his tears as mother and son for one final time.

             
Natty ran up the two-story house that served as the doctor's
clinic and into the room where Evans examined his patients. The place smelled of liniment and rubbing alcohol. The memories of her mother's sick bed struck at her with full force. For a moment, she was back in their cabin on the mountain, holding her dying mother's hand.

             
Taking a deep breath, she pushed those memories aside and walked to the room where the lawman had been since he'd been wounded. Opening the door, she stepped inside.

             
The Texan didn't look all that scary when he was gut shot and
laying
on the bed. His color was pale and sort of yellowish. He was unshaven, his beard growing in patches and peppered with gray. But, his eyes were the most alarming of all. A vibrant blue, he looked at her entrance, proving that although his body was failing, his mind was still quite intact.

             
"You come to watch me die, girl?" Greene said in a harsh, thick voice.

             
"I came to talk to you about my husband," she countered.

             
He laughed. "Why not. Everybody else has. I wouldn't be surprised if the late General Custer shows up." He closed his eyes. "I guess I'll be
seein
' him soon enough."

             
"You're
gonna
go to your grave knowing that you killed a man that didn't deserve
dyin
'?"

             
"Your husband was found guilty, was sentenced to die, and will be executed accordingly. That's all there is. Now go blather over your
murderin
' gunslinger somewhere else. I'm trying to die in peace."

             
"I
ain't
goin
' until I have to," she stated quietly.

             
"What?"

             
"I said
,
I'm
stayin
' right here. If you're so big and bad, then you get up outta that bed and throw me out. Otherwise, I
ain't
budging."

             
"Are you crazy, woman? You think you can stare me into changing my mind? I'm a man grown, and when I make my mind up to something, I'm not about to change it. You understand?"

             
"Perfectly." Natty started wandering around the room. She leaned over the table by the bedside, examining the medicines Doc Evans had set there. From there, she wandered to the window. It wasn't until she moved to stand beside the desk that he spoke again.

             
"You get out of my things, you she-devil." When Natty didn't respond, he called out. "Doctor! Get this woman out of here. A man deserves his privacy when he's
dyin
'."

             
"What are you so afraid of?" Natty asked, calmly. She had a niggling intuition that something was not right. She saw a scrap of yellowed paper that lay folded on the table. She reached out her hand for it. Picking it up, she felt the stiff, crinkly texture of the parchment. The edges of the document were tattered, as though it were very old and had been handled extensively.

             
"You get away from there or I'll have you thrown in jail." He strained against his covers, half sitting up. His face turned a deep, angry red and his breathing burst forth in long, gurgling gasps. Doc Evans rushed into the room. Judge was right behind him.

             
"Natty," Judge asked, "
what
in tarnation are you doing?"

             
"Nothing. I just came to visit the ranger, is
all.
I came to beg him for mercy, hoping that he would change his mind. I know now that
ain't
possible,
seein
' as there
ain't
no mercy in him. I think instead, I shall just feel sorry for him. Sorry that he can't ever be the kind of man he's intent on
seein
' die today."

             
"You don't know nothing, girl. You hear me? That man is guilty, and he's going to pay for his sins."

             
Judge stepped forward. "If you're so damn set on letting that boy die, then you're going to be there, too. I don't care if I have to carry you on my back, by damn; you're going to witness it along with the rest of us."