Joelle's Secret (17 page)

Benny’s reply broke Aiden’s heart. She put her arms around him and held him close. “I’ll always love you no matter what.” But she knew he was afraid—afraid that he’d lose her as his father had lost her.

* * *

BENNY HAD GONE TO bed early, but Aiden stayed up. When Davis returned, he was surprised. “You still up? I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I’ve got to talk to you, Davis.”

“All right.” He put his rifle into the wagon and sat beside her. “What is it? Is something wrong with Benny?”

“No—well, yes, there is. He talked to me tonight about you and me.”

“I didn’t know that he talked to you, but he talked to me about that too. Hard on a young fella, isn’t it? His parents are his whole world, pretty much. That’s all he’s got when he’s twelve, and his world’s broken-up.”

“He asked me if I loved you, and I told him no. He said—” She choked up, and when she turned to him, he saw her eyes were glistening with tears. “He asked me if he failed me, would I not love him anymore. Oh, Davis, it broke my heart.”

Davis recognized that the wall between the two was his own making. He took her hand and held it in both of his. “I’ve made so many promises and broken them to everyone, but something’s happened to me. I’ve lost everything that’s worth anything in this life, my son and my wife. I’ve been the world’s biggest fool, Aiden, but I’ve been reading the Bible, and I’ve
been thinking about God, and one thing is pretty clear. God forgives us for anything. I don’t know if a human being is able to do that, but if you could forgive me, without any promises on my part, I’d feel mighty good about it.”

Aiden studied his face. He was a handsome man, always had been, and now there was a seriousness about him she hadn’t seen in a long time. She knew this was the moment that would either destroy her life or give her back something. She knew it was going to be hard as it had been in the past. She had no idea whether he could keep this unspoken promise.

She said, “When we first met, I was so much in love with you, Davis, and when we were first married, I thought no woman had ever loved a man as I loved you.”

Davis stared at her, and his voice was husky. “Is any of that love left, Aiden? Any at all?”

In an instant Aiden Hall knew that despite their rocky road, the fights, and all the wrongs she had endured, there was something there. “Yes, Davis, there is.”

They sat there, he holding her hand, and then he squeezed the hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. His voice was low and husky as he said, “Aiden, I’ll die before I’d ever go to another woman. I’ll blow my own brains out. I know I don’t deserve this chance.” He touched her hair. “You always had the most beautiful hair I ever saw.”

She suddenly put her arms around him, and he held her. “We’ll find each other again, Aiden,” he said. “God put us together for always.”

She sat quietly in his embrace and wondered,
Can a miracle like this happen? Can he be the man he used to be? Could
our love come back again?
And suddenly she knew this was the
second chance that some people never get. She breathed a prayer,
God help me to be a good wife to this man.

* * *

OWEN HAD BEEN SADDLING up his big bay horse, ready to go for a hunt, and Joelle said, “I want to go with you.”

“All right. Come on.”

Joelle had saddled Blackie, and the two of them rode out. It was a mystery to everyone on the train how Majors was able to bring in game when no one else could. They rode several miles from the train, and he led her into a small arroyo. “Tie the horses here.” She tied her horse and saw him take a white cloth out of his saddlebag “Watch this, and you’ll see the secret of the mighty hunter.” He led her away from the arroyo a hundred yards and tied the strip of the rag to a yucca. It fluttered in the breeze, and he said, “There.”

“What is that for?”

“Come on, you’ll see.” He led her back to the arroyo, and they hid themselves in the small gulch.

“Now then we have to wait awhile.”

“Wait for what?”

“Wait for the antelope to come. A man’s too slow to catch an antelope so the antelope have to come to him.”

Joelle said, “You’re funning me, Owen.”

“No, I’m not. Here, just be quiet.”

Joelle crouched beside him, and from time to time he would whisper something about the train, and they carried on a quiet conversation. Finally he looked up cautiously. “There. See?”

Joelle looked up and saw a small herd of antelope. They were nervous and jumping, but they were all looking at the white bit of cloth.

“What are they looking at that for?”

“Just nosy. Curious like a woman, boy. Get your rifle ready. When I count three, you take a shot, and I’ll get one too.”

Joelle pulled her Spencer out and cautiously leaned over the rim of the gulch. She heard him count. On three, she pulled the trigger and was thrilled to see an antelope fall. She heard Owen’s rifle sound twice, and two more antelope fell.

“See how simple it is. Everybody thinks I’m a great hunter. All it takes is a little bit of knowledge. Come on. Let’s get these critters back to camp. I like to hunt them, but I hate to dress them out. We’ll give two of them away.”

They tied the game on the back of their horses, small creatures and not the best of eating, but better than no meat at all.

When they reached the camp, Owen left one antelope with the Picketts. They were always short of grub, and he talked with Delbert and teased Jennie. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to skin antelope. I’d make your dad do it if I were you. You just sit around and be pretty.”

“You’re funning me, Mr. Majors.”

“I always flirt with the pretty girls. You watch out for the men in this train. They’re not all honorable like I am. Come on, Joe. Let’s do a good deed.” He stepped back in the saddle. “Let’s give this extra antelope to Cherry and the rest of Ash’s crew.”

“They won’t appreciate it.”

“No, but it’ll make them think what a nice, generous fellow I am. Next time I play poker with Ash, he’ll give me a break.”

The two crossed the opening until they pulled up in front of Ash’s wagon. There was a poker game going on, and he called out, “Hey, Cherry, I’ve got a Christmas present for you.” Cherry had not been in the game, and she laughed.

“It’s not Christmas, you fool.”

“Well, your birthday then.” He untied the antelope, and holding it by the hind legs, he started toward them. “You’ll have to get Ash to dress this. He won’t mind.”

At that instant Jack Benbow rose and cursed him. “We don’t need your dumb antelope! Get out of here!”

“Take it easy, Jack,” Ash said.

“I’m tired of his ways.” Benbow lost his mind when he drank, and it was gone now. He reached down, pulled his gun in one smooth motion, and fired. It missed Owen by a hairbreadth. Owen was not carrying a pistol. He saw Benbow raise his gun to take a steadier aim, and then heard another gun fire. A black dot appeared over Benbow’s left eyebrow, and he stepped back, slowly fell to his knees, and then faced forward. Owen whirled to see Chad Hardin lower his pistol.

“Good riddance, Owen. Maybe you’d better start carrying a gun all the time.”

Owen started to answer, and then he heard Ash shout, “Look out for the young fellow!”

Owen whirled to see that the top of Joelle’s chest was covered in bright, scarlet blood, and even as he watched, she fell limply to the ground.

Owen knelt beside Joelle. “He’s hurt bad!” Chad said.

“You go get Temple, Chad. I’ll carry him to the tent.”

As he turned and picked up the limp form, Ash ran forward. “I hope the boy’s all right. I’d have shot Jack myself. He was crazy, but I didn’t have a chance.”

Owen didn’t answer. He went at a half run, conscious of the lightness of his burden. “Come on, Joe, you’ll be all right.” But the scarlet blossoming on the shirt spurred his worst fears.

When Owen entered Ralph Ogden’s tent, he put the limp form on the cot. He saw Temple rip open the black bag and roll his sleeves up. “You got to do something, Doc.”

“How’d it happen?” Logan Temple asked, but his hands were working.

“It was Benbow. He took a shot at me, but it missed and hit Joe here.”

Temple said, “Blasted shirt he wears!” He ripped the buttons, tore it off, and then suddenly he paused. He stared at the rounded form of the youngster known as Joe Jones and glanced at Owen. “Did you know this is a woman, Owen?” His voice was harsh and accusing.

Owen stared at the curved form. The garment was a tight white chemise, but there was no questioning the feminine gender.

“No, I didn’t know,” he said slowly.

Logan stared at him and then shook his head. “The bullet hit high.”

“She was on a horse, and he was on the ground.”

Logan lifted Joelle and ran his hand over her back. “We’re lucky,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The bullet hit high up and missed the lung. It’s right here under the skin. Didn’t come out.” He reached down, got a scalpel, slit the skin, and popped the bullet out.

“I’ll wash these wounds,” he said. He laid Joelle down, and when he turned to get the alcohol he used to clean wounds, Joelle opened her eyes. Owen was staring at her.

“I thought he killed you,” Joelle said weakly. When Owen didn’t answer, she said, “I’m glad you didn’t get shot.”

Owen still didn’t answer, and she looked around and saw that her vest was soaked with blood. Realizing that her secret was out, she had a moment of fear. She tried to speak, but Logan was back. He was cutting away the thin, cotton chemise, and he cleaned the wound with alcohol. It burned like fire, but all she could see was Owen’s face. She remembered at that moment how he had once been devastated by a woman who had deceived him.

“I—I wanted to tell you, Owen,” she began, but he whirled and left the tent, his face tense.

Logan was cutting away the blood soaked vest. “I’ll have to bandage you up a little bit. What’s your real name?”

“Joelle Mitchell.”

“Well, Joelle, you’re a lucky young woman.” He bandaged the wound, then said, “You’ll need something to wear. I’ll fetch some of your clothes. You just lie here.” He saw that the young woman was trembling and staring at the tent. “He’ll be all right, Joelle. Quite a shock for him. He must not be very observant.”

Joelle barely heard him. “He knows that I’m not a man. He hates me for it, Dr. Temple.”

“He must be blind. I knew you were a woman the first time I saw you.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I thought you had a reason, Joelle. If you want to tell me about it sometime, I’d like to hear it.”

Joelle briefly told Temple why she ran away, disguised as a man, and tears came to her eyes. “I wanted to tell Owen, but a woman deceived him once. Now I’m the second one. He’ll always hate me.”

Logan Temple was a healer of bodies, but he saw this young woman needed healing of the spirit. Joelle Mitchell was hurt worse by Owen’s look than by the bullet that had torn through her. She closed her eyes to keep back hot, scalding tears, wondering what would come of all this.

“WELL, LET’S HAVE A look at that scar.”

Logan Temple had made his rounds and at last had reached Joelle. It was not yet dark, and the canvas flap was raised so he could see her face plainly. He didn’t miss the flush that touched her cheeks and thought,
Why anybody could ever take
her for a man is beyond me!
He saw her hesitate and was surprised. As a doctor he had found that most women had some kind of modesty, and he learned to deal with it. In a businesslike fashion he said, “Come now. Unbutton that shirt and let me take a look. I need to change the bandage.”

Logan rummaged through his bag until he found fresh bandages, and when he turned back, he saw that Joelle had unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it down over her shoulders but kept her breasts covered. He appreciated this because he always liked to see modesty in young women. He began to remove the bandage, and when the wound was uncovered, he examined it closely.

“Why, that looks good. You’re very lucky. If that bullet had been a little bit lower, it would have gone through your lungs. Then you would have had trouble.”

Still no answer from the young woman, and Logan continued to speak as he applied a fresh bandage and tied it on as best he could. When he finished, she quickly buttoned her shirt.

Logan hesitated, wanting to know more of the girl’s story, but he saw that she was pale and probably in no mood to answer questions. “Don’t do anything stressful. Ride in the wagon tomorrow. In a few days you’ll be as good as new.”

“All right, Doctor.”

Logan repacked his bag and said, “Good night, Joelle.” He stepped out of the wagon and saw that Harry Jump had a fire going and coffee brewing. “I could use a cup of that coffee, Harry.”

“Sure, Doc. Sit down here. I’ll have some stew ready pretty soon if you want to eat with us.”

“Maybe I’ll come back. I need to go see that Pickett child. He may have measles. I sure hope not.”

Logan sat down on a box, took the cup of coffee, and sipped it. His eyes opened wide, and he gasped, “That’s strong coffee, Harry!”

“You know, Doc,” Harry Jump grinned amiably, “the worst cup of coffee I ever had in the world was real good.”

For a while the doctor nursed the cup of coffee until it grew cooler, and finally he asked, “Where’s Owen?”

“Oh, he’s out hunting, I guess.”

“I guess I’m as curious as everyone else in this train, Harry. What does Owen say about Joe—or Joelle, as she says her name is?”

“I dunno, Doc. He don’t say nothing really. Stays gone most of the time. Helps with the critters in the herd. Goes off hunting. Takes night guard.”

“A strange situation. Don’t know as I ever heard the like of it. Most people think that Owen knew Joelle’s secret all the time.”

“Well, I don’t think he did.”

“I know he didn’t. When I told him about her, he looked like a man who had been punched in the stomach.”

“He’s behaving a little strange, Doc. I don’t think he’s said ten words to her. I don’t really know their history. I wanted to ask her, but I didn’t figure it was my place. Figured she’d tell me when she got ready.”

“I guess she will. Well, thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome, Doc. Come back after while. This stew is going to be right good.”

Harry watched the doctor as he moved off into the growing darkness, then ran his eyes over the campfires that had sprung up. He checked on the biscuits in the Dutch oven. The wagons had stopped early that day, and he’d had time to use his starter mix. He saw they were a nice golden brown on top. A motion caught his eye. He smiled. “Well, Rachel, you come to have supper with me, I reckon.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you set right there. I’m gonna give you something like you’ve never had before.” Taking one of the biscuits from the oven, Jump slit it in half. He opened a small glass jar and soaked the tops of the two halves with golden syrup, then closed the jar. Handing one half of the biscuit to the young girl, he said, “That’s sourwood honey, the best honey there is. See how you like it.”

Rachel bit into the biscuit and smiled. “That’s good. Why do you call this sourwood honey?”

“Because it’s made by bees that visited a sourwood tree. Oh, it’s the best kind of honey.” Jump bit into his half of the biscuit and chewed thoroughly. “Always was partial to honey.”

Rachel was silent for a time as Jump spoke about making honey, and finally she said, “Where you from, Mr. Jump?”

“Kentucky is where I got my start.”

“Did you have lots of brothers and sisters?”

“Had seven. Four brothers and three sisters.”

Rachel asked questions between bites of biscuits that Harry kept pulling out of the Dutch oven. Finally she said, “Are you married?”

“Me? Why, no, of course not.”

“Ever been married?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“What woman would want to marry a no-account, ugly gent like me?”

Jump was watching the vulnerable, innocent little girl. One day she would grow up to be beautiful. In fact, she already was, but her shyness and reticence didn’t seem natural. Jump thought,
It must be because she’s been around her mother who
can’t hear. I guess that’s it.

“I wish Mama would get married.”

“Do you now?” Jump said with surprise.

“She gets lonesome. When I grow up and get married, she won’t have anybody.”

“Sure she will,” Jump said quickly. “She’ll have you and your husband and Ralph and Cleo.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Jump found no answer. He didn’t know much about children, not having had close contact with any. There was something about the young girl that drew him and pleased him. He pictured what she would be like when she was eighteen.
Going
to be a pretty young woman,
he thought.
That’s good and bad.
Pretty women have a good time, but they can have a hard time,
too, the way men use them.

“You think you’ll ever get married?”

Jump laughed shortly. “I don’t think on that much. It seems—” He turned and saw Lily approaching. He got up and keeping his face turned toward her, said, “You’re just in time, Miss Lily. Going to give you some of my own special biscuits with sourwood honey. It’s good, ain’t it, Rachel?”

“It’s real good.”

Lily bit into one of the biscuits. “Why, this is the best honey I ever had!”

“’Course it is. Nothing but the best is good enough for us.”

“Can I take a biscuit and some honey to Benny, Mr. Jump?” Rachel asked.

“Sure you can.” Jump sliced another biscuit, put it on a saucer, and soaked it with honey. “Go on and get that youngster a bite of something good.” He watched as the girl scurried off into the gathering darkness and shook his head. “Well, we better hurry up and eat before Chad and Owen get back and eat it all up from us. Sit down there, Miss Lily. I’m going to give you some of my special varmint stew.”

Lily had been watching his lips, and now she smiled. “Varmint stew? It doesn’t sound very good. What’s in it?”

“Any kind of varmint I shot. I had one once that had possum and snake and a little bit of coon.”

“Sounds awful, Harry.”

“Well, us old bachelors have to do the best we can. I’m a pretty good cook though. Let’s eat up.” He found two bowls, filled them carefully with big spoonfuls of the stew, and then sat down. “Try it out.”

She took a bite and said, “This is good! You don’t want to tell me what’s in it?”

“No. I eat a meal once with some Sioux Indians. I ate what they had. It was a stew, and I found out later what was in it. Never ate no more with the Sioux.”

“What was in it, Harry?”

“Puppy dogs mostly.”

“How awful!”

“I remember it wasn’t too bad. We’ll be in California pretty soon. What do you reckon you’ll do out there?”

“I guess I’ll help my sister and take care of Rachel.”

She was quiet, and suddenly Harry turned and looked off. A coyote sounded closer than usual.

“What was it, Harry?”

“Just a coyote. They sure make a mournful sound.”

“I’ve never heard one.”

“I’m sorry about your hearing, Lily.”

She leaned forward and held the bowl in both hands, and there was a longing in her face he had seen before. She confirmed that she missed her hearing when she said, “I’ll never get used to it. I miss so much.”

Jump wanted to reach out and touch her but felt that would be out of place. He leaned forward, and the flames illu
minated the craggy contours of his face. He was a rough-hewn man, this Harry Jump, used hard by the West, but there was no sign of cruelty or meanness in him. Somehow he had escaped this, and now he said slowly and thoughtfully, “I had a sister once named Janie. She got kicked by a horse in the back of her neck.” He looked down at the bowl and didn’t speak, but then when he looked up, sorrow was written plainly on his face. “She was plum paralyzed. We had to do everything for her. She could talk. She used to talk about what she was missing, like going fishing down at the river and going with me when I hunted coon at night. I tried to help, but there wasn’t much I could do. That’s when I gave up on God.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Harry.”

“I know it. Foolish, ain’t it? Man’s a foolish creature full of sinful emotion, but I loved that girl.”

Lily straightened and gave Jump a direct look. She smiled, which made her look younger. “You’re telling me I ought to be thankful that I can see and walk. You’re right, Harry.” She got to her feet abruptly and said, “Don’t let Rachel be a bother to you.”

“Won’t ever happen.” Jump rose to his feet. “She’s like a ray of sunshine. You know this is a pretty dark world, Lily, but some people glitter.”

His words delighted Lily, and she gave him a careful look. “What a nice thing to say!” she exclaimed.

“Well, it’s true.”

“What did you two talk about tonight?”

“Oh, she mostly asked questions. She sure is full of questions.”

“What did she ask you tonight?”

Jump was uncomfortable, and she saw it in his face. “It must have bothered you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I can tell by your expression. What was it? What did she ask you?”

“She asked me why I never got married.”

For a moment Lily didn’t answer, and then she asked, “What did you tell her? I’ll ask her what you said so you may as well tell me.”

“Aw, Lily, you know. I said no woman would ever have a rough fellow like me.”

She whispered, “I guess we’re alike then, Harry.” She abruptly left, and Jump watched her go. He refilled his coffee cup, but the coffee grew cold while he sat in the flickering light of the flames, thinking long thoughts about women, young girls, and how the two were different.

* * *

JOELLE HAD REMAINED IN the wagon after Logan Temple left. Her wound was still giving her considerable pain, but she ignored it. She had intended to get out to fetch water, for her mouth was dry, but she was interrupted when Rachel and Lily had visited Jump while he was cooking the supper. She held herself stiffly, trying to avoid all painful movement, and she was not able to think very clearly. Ever since the shooting, she had felt disoriented and more cut off and alone than ever before. She also felt shame; her secret had been discovered. She thought that what she had done was wrong. Recalling all
her actions, she tried to think of another way she could have escaped from her stepfather, but nothing occurred to her.

After Lily and Rachel left, she moved to the end of the wagon. She gave a small grunt of pain as she positioned herself to get down to the ground. At once Jump was there beside her. “Now, what are you doing, missy? You ought not to be moving around.”

“I want to get down, Harry.”

“Sure. Here, let me help you.” Jump simply reached up and lifted her to the ground. “Come on over here and set down on this here box,” he said. “I bet you could use something to drink and maybe something to eat.”

“I’m so thirsty.”

“You sit right there. I’ll fetch you some nice fresh water.”

Joelle watched as Jump went around to the side of the wagon. He came back bearing a large cup of water. “Here,” he said. “You drink this. We hit a fresh river just about right over the ridge there. It’s mighty good.”

Joelle eagerly took it and gulped the cool water. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Tell you what. I got some nice biscuits and some stew here. You set right there and let me wait on you.”

“I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t. You just let me do this now.”

Joelle was pleased enough to let Harry wait on her for she still felt confused. He returned with a bowl of fragrant stew and a spoon. “Here, you take this, and I got some biscuits. You might want to crumble them up in there,” Harry said. He turned away and came back with a biscuit.

She tasted the stew and said, “This is good.”

“Well, that’s about the limit of my cooking, I guess. I can fry bacon and make stew.” He sat down beside her on the ground, his legs crossed and a curious light in his eyes. “Reckon I’ll have to know your name. Can’t go on calling you by that boy’s name.”

“Well, actually a lot of people did call me Jo. My name’s Joelle Lynn Mitchell.”

“Joelle? Why, that’s a right pretty name.”

There was a sound of laughter from one of the wagons, and Joelle looked up. “I guess people are talking about me, aren’t they, Harry?”

“Well, you know on a wagon train there ain’t a whole lot to talk about. So, something like this comes up—it’s just people’s nature.”

“It’s something I had to do.”

“Sure. We all have to do things like that. Get away from things, so to speak,” Harry said.

Overhead the stars were beginning to appear, making tiny, brilliant dots in the sky. “Going to be a full moon tonight. Right pretty.”

Joelle was grateful to Jump. “Aren’t you going to ask me anymore questions?”

“Reckon you’ll tell me when you get ready. I’m not one to poke around other people’s business much. Anyways, you’re gonna be all right soon. The doctor tells me that that bullet missed your lung. You’re lucky there. Could have been a heck of a lot worse.”

“I know it. I’m really thankful.” She was quiet for a while, and then she said, “I had to run away from my home, Harry.”