Dorothy Garlock (16 page)

“We can’t pay you, Mr. Malone,” Rosalee said firmly. “Ben and I are lucky to graze twenty head and they stray off to the good grass.”

“Ya can pay me bed ’n board, ma’am.”

Logan and Case were studying each other; each, with his own thoughts, making decisions that would affect their lives for years. Case left his proposition hanging in the air and waited. Finally Logan spoke.

“You know, I’ve got to get the hell out of here. I can’t take the Spurlocks with me and I can’t fight Clayhill from here.” He spoke slowly and only to Case. “You’ll stay here, stand between them and Clayhill?” Case nodded. Logan leaned back and rested his head against the wall. “It’s a deal, Malone. Take him on as foreman, Rosalee. And Case, when the time comes, I’ll be grateful for your advice. I’ll need an experienced man to show me the ropes and you can take your pay any way you want it: cash, cows, or shares in my ranch.”

“Suits me fine.”

“I’ll put it in writing if you want.”

“Handshake’s good enuff for me.” He let the front legs of his chair down to the floor and unfolded his long length to get to his feet. “Ma’am, where do I throw my bedroll?”

“Hard-Case Malone! You’re an . . . unpredictable man,” Mary said, but she was smiling.

Mary and Case walked away from the house while Josh hitched the bays to the buggy. Mary wore her wide-brimmed hat and stood with her back to the late afternoon sun.

“Case . . .” She placed her hand on his arm and he immediately covered it with his. “Why did you decide to stay and help them?”

“May be that Clayhill reminds me of a story my pa told ’bout a feller that came to Van Zandt County back in the forties. He had a mouth on ’im like Clayhill. He hogged the range ’n the water ’n tried to stomp out the homesteaders till my granddaddy got his craw full. But the time he was through with that ol’ boy he’d pulled in his horns and hightailed it out of the country. Guess I’m like my granddaddy. I got a craw full of Clayhill.”

“He’ll not pull in his horns until he’s dead! I told you what he was like when you first came here. It sure took you long enough to see that I was right.”

“I knew ya was right all along, Mary honey. He just hadn’t done nothin’ up to now, ’n it was a job.”

“You don’t need a job, Case. Damnit! You and Hank have just as much land as Clayhill. Go home before you get yourself killed!”

“I come for ya, Mary. I’ll not go home without ya.”

Mary looked up into his quiet face. There was no mistaking the love that shone from his eyes.

“We’ve gone over this a hundred times. I’ll never go back to Texas. Word of what I’ve become would spread like a prairie fire. I’m used to the role of the scarlet woman here, but I’d rather be dead than embarrass my family or yours.”

“Then I’ll just have to stay here.”

“I’ll not marry you, Case—ever. Go home. Find . . . someone else.” She lowered her head so the brim of her hat covered her face. He lifted the floppy brim and looked into her misery-filled eyes.

“Ya might as well ask me to cut off my arm. I won’t ask ya again why ya married Tom. I reckon it was ’cause I’d been gone so long and I never come right out ’n told ya my feelin’ for ya.”

“Tom was a good man, Case. He always treated me well.”

“He didn’t take care of ya like I’d’ve done. But that’s water over the dam. If ya won’t come home with me, I’ll stay here with you.”

“You can’t stay here indefinitely. You’ve been gone almost two years! It isn’t fair to Hank.”

“Hank’s runnin’ things just fine.”

“It isn’t fair to Logan to let him count on you to help him get started,” Mary argued. “It may take years for things to smooth out here. You can’t stay that long. And Case . . . you could be killed! Clayhill would think no more about ordering you killed than he would smashing a bug. He’s that kind of man.”

“I’ll be here if you are, Mary. I shoulda bought that range myself ’n brought up some Texans to hold it. I never even thought ’bout it. I had other things on my mind.” His eyes roamed her face lovingly.

“I’m going to worry myself sick about you,” Mary threatened in a tight voice.

A smile crinkled the lines around his eyes. “I’m right glad to hear it.”

“Case! What am I going to do with you?”

“Ya can marry me. Close that house down, burn it, let Meta and Josh have it. I’ll—”

Mary turned and walked rapidly toward the buggy. Case walked beside her, his hand on her elbow. He helped her up onto the seat, his eyes anxious.

“Take care of yourself, Case.”

“I’ll get my horse ’n ride a ways with ya.”

“There’s no need for that. We’ll not be bothered. Clayhill is smart enough to know that he doesn’t have a man who would harm me and jeopardize his visits to my house. That may not be exactly true after I post a blacklist naming Shorty Banes and company,” she added dryly.

Mary saw the pain flick across Case’s face before a cloak of impatience covered it, and she wished she’d had the good sense to keep her mouth shut. She could see a muscle twitch in his jaw as he ground his teeth together in frustration.

“Keep a lookout, Josh. I’ll ride to the top of the bluff yonder. If I see anythin’ ya ought to know, I’ll fire a couple a shots.” He looked at Mary with bleak eyes, squeezed the hand that lay in her lap, and stepped back. “I’ll be out to see you in a few days.”

The springs on the buggy yielded to Josh’s weight. He flicked the backs of the bays with the reins and swung them in a wide arc around the yard and headed them toward town.

“Bye, Mary. Bye, Josh,” Rosalee called from the doorway.

Ben, holding Charlie by the collar, waved.

Mary waved back, let her eyes linger for a moment on Case’s face, then looked straight ahead. The team seemed to sense they were headed home and stepped lively down the trail. In half an hour they had left the hills and were on the plain. The sun was a red ball above the horizon before they spoke. It was Josh who broke the silence between them.

“That man loves ya a powerful lot.”

“Don’t you start in on me, Josh! I know how he feels and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Of course I love him. I can’t remember when I didn’t love him. Our parents grew up together, we grew up together. Oh, God, Josh! I’ve made such a mess of my life and now I’m ruining his.”

“Why didn’t ya marry him in the first place?”

“Because I was sixteen and stupid. Case went back East for a year and I was lonely. I got caught in the hayloft with Tom Gregg. Nothing happened, but my parents insisted that I marry him.” Mary sighed remembering her mother’s anguish. She had to do the
decent
thing. She had to marry poor, spineless Tom Gregg or else be in total disgrace. “We married and came out here,” Mary added slowly. “Case came home and went to war.”

A lump rose up in her throat that she found difficult to swallow. She had forgiven her mother long ago for forcing her to marry a man she didn’t love. But she knew in her heart that, had her mother lived, she would never have forgiven
her
for what she had become.

She listened to the jingle of the harnesses and the thump of the horses’ hooves and tried to wipe out the painful memories of the past.

*  *  *

Rosalee was putting the leftovers of the noon meal on the table for supper when she heard the pounding hoofbeats of a running horse. She went to the door just as Case pulled his horse to a quick stop beside the woodpile where Ben was chopping kindling for the cookstove. He spoke to the boy, then dismounted and came to the house.

Logan, alert when he heard the horse, lay on the bunk with his eyes on the door. He raised up when Case came in.

“Can ya get on yore feet, Horn? We gotta get ya and Miss Spurlock outta here. I took a look ’round with my glass from the top of the bluff. There’s a dozen men squattin’ ’round a cookfire ’bout four miles off to the west. I figure it’s Clayhill’s bunch ’n they’ll be acomin’ in to get ya tonight. More’n likely they got orders to burn out this place.”

“Tonight?” Rosalee’s heart stumbled, then beat hard against her ribs. “He won’t burn us out. That was just a threat,” she scoffed weakly.

Logan sat up on the side of the bunk. “Good God almighty!”

“Miss Spurlock’ll drive ya in the wagon. I know it galls ya to run, but like I said afore, pride don’t shield ya when the bullets fly. There’s a place south and east where ya can hole up. I don’t think the Clayhills know ’bout it. Leastways it wasn’t spoke of. I’ll start ya off and tell ya how to get there. It’ll take a couple a hours in the wagon. Ya should make it before dark. Gather up food, blankets, ’n what ya need to get Logan on his feet, ma’am. Ben’s hitchin’ up the wagon.”

“Ben can drive the wagon. I’ll stay here.”

“No, ma’am. That won’t do. There’ll be just me astandin’ between you ’n them. Men in a pack is worse’n a pack a dogs.”

“But . . . Ben is just a boy.” Rosalee began to fill a basket with the food Mary had brought.

“That’s it. He’d be a heap safer’n you if we’re caught.”

“He’s right, Rosalee.” Logan was standing with his palms on the table to support himself. “Goddamn! I’m sorry I brought this down on you.”

“It would’ve happened anyway. If you and Mr. Malone hadn’t come Ben and I would’ve had to face it alone. Mr. Clayhill wants this land. He thinks if we stay others will come.”

“What about the people with land toward the east?” Logan asked.

“They’re over the ridge,” Case said. “I doubt he’ll go after farmland. It’s range he wants. He’s afraid it’ll be taken up.”

“Do you think they’ll burn the house, Mr. Malone? Mama’s trunk . . . Pa’s wood carvings . . . Odell’s . . .” Rosalee’s voice trailed away. She took a short breath and turned her face away from the men so they wouldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes.

“It’s a rock house ’n the roof won’t burn. It’ll take ’em a spell to get it started and I won’t be sittin’ on my hands.”

“Take Rosalee and Ben to Mrs. Gregg, Malone. I’ll stay here. He wouldn’t be coming here but for me!” Logan said desperately.

“With that kinda thinkin’ how’d you Yankees win the war? One, even two against a dozen is more’n I want to tackle. It’s no disgrace to back off and pick yore time.” He picked up a pillowcase and stuffed it with the wood carvings on the mantel. “Where’s yore ma’s trunk?” Rosalee nodded toward the lean-to. He ducked his head beneath the low door, went inside, and came out with the trunk. He set it beside the door.

Ben drove the wagon up to the front of the house, tied the reins to the brake handle, and jumped down. Rosalee met him at the door and put her arms around him.

“I don’t want to leave you here, Ben.”

“Mr. Malone explained it to me. It’s the only thing to do. You go on, now. He’s helpin’ us the best he knows how and we do what he says. What’s Mama’s trunk doin’ here?”

“Put it on the wagon, son, along with this bag of your Pa’s birds. If the worse comes, ya’ll have ’em.” Case turned to Logan. He had put on his shirt and moccasins. His face was wet with weak sweat. “Ya got some good horse flesh. Will the mare ’n foal trail?”

“They’ll follow the stallion. How’s my dog, Ben?”

“He been in the corral all day. I took him a pan of water and part of a rabbit Charlie caught, but he wouldn’t touch it until I left.”

Logan walked to the door carefully, balancing himself with a hand against the wall. “I’ll whistle for him or you’ll not get near the horses.”

Case was throwing things in the wagon. Pushing the blankets and the food under the canvas stretched across the bed. “Ben said ya got a pack in the shed. I’ll get it. Ben, go hitch up yore wagon. While I’m agettin’ yore sister headed out right, load up what ya can ’n light out for Mary’s. If they see ya they’ll think yore pullin’ out like Clayhill said.”

Logan whistled a couple of short blasts, and soon Brutus came around the corner of the house with Charlie bouncing around him, wanting to play. The big wolf dog ignored him. Logan leaned against the side of the wagon.

“Are you up to working, boy? You’ll have to keep the girls in line, see to it they don’t fall behind or stray off.” Brutus whined and got down on his belly, but kept his eyes on Logan’s face. The gash the bullet had laid across the top of the dog’s head was clean and wet. Logan glanced at Charlie, who sat with his head cocked to one side and his tongue lolling. “He did a good job, Brutus. You’re in fine shape. Given time I think you could make a man out of that kid.”

Rosalee had been so busy flying around the cabin gathering up things to take with her that she hadn’t had time to think. She stood in the doorway and looked back at the home that had been hers for the past four years; the hated dirt floor, the small glass window that furnished their only daylight during the long winter months. Would she ever see it again? Mama’s clock! She took it from the mantel and wrapped it in her cloak and extra dress. Odell’s doll head! Where was it? She ran to the lean-to and snatched it from the shelf.

“Ma’am,” Case called urgently.

Logan was on the wagon seat, sitting on a feather pillow. Rosalee had wondered how in the world he had managed to climb up there. She put her foot on a spoke in the wheel and sprang up into the wagon and sat down beside him. She crossed the long shawl around her shoulders over her breasts, tucked it beneath her thighs, and picked up the reins. Mercury was tied to the back of the wagon and the mare and colt stood nearby. Case came out of the cabin with the water bucket crammed with things from the kitchen shelves and an arm full of bedding from the lean-to. He threw them into the back of the wagon and mounted his horse.

“We’re runnin’ outta time, ma’am. Move out.”

Rosalee looked for Ben to kiss him good-bye, but he and Charlie were not in sight. “Bye, Ben,” she called. “Bye. Stay with Mary till . . . I come back.” Her eyes were swimming with tears and her voice shook, but she held her chin up and sailed the whip out over the backs of the team with far more force than necessary to get them moving.

The horses strained at the harnesses, then the wagon moved to swing out and around her vegetable garden and past the low-branched oak tree Odell liked to climb. Rosalee kept her eyes straight ahead. Things near and dear to her were being torn from her grasp and there was a clammy, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.