Journey of the Heart (6 page)

When you left
, thought Elizabeth.
And what are you now, Caitlin?
She smiled to herself. Her daughter was a young woman, of course. Why was it so hard to accept how a mere two years, though it had felt like forever at the time, had changed her daughter?

“You can always change his name if you want to,” said Michael. “He’s probably in the near pasture so Gabe can work with him.”

“Gabe?”

“Gabe Hart, our new hired hand, Cait,” said her mother. “Your Da finally took my advice and got himself some help with the horses. Some
good
help.”

“Why, you said you’d never let any bronc buster near your horses, Da!”

“And I wouldn’t. But Gabe works them gently, like I do. He’s done a fine job, so far, halter-breakin’ the yearlings and trainin’ the two-year-olds.”

Caitlin felt cheated of something she thought was supposed to be hers. Her horse was hers to train. She’d had him following her around before she left. Of course, she hadn’t expected her father would actually ignore the horse for almost two years. He would have had to be halter-broke. Maybe lunged a little. But a complete stranger working him? She decided there and then she wasn’t going to like Gabe Hart and she most certainly wasn’t going to have him training her horse.

“Here we are, Cait.”

The long, low ranch house looked the same, with its soft, weathered cedar shingles and bright blue door and window frames. There were chamisa bushes on the side of the house and in the front, a profusion of herbs and flowers that Elizabeth had managed to grow over the years.

Inside the floors were covered with rag rugs and on the wall were hung a trio of Navajo weavings by Serena, Cait’s godmother. There was a small piece that Serena had given Caitlin years ago, and two larger ones that were more recent.

There were fresh flowers on the table and Cait turned to her mother and said, “It looks lovely, Ma. I am so glad to be home.”

“Thank you, dear, though I’m sure it’s nothing to compare to some of those fine houses in Philadelphia you’ve been visiting.”

Elizabeth made the comparison lightly, for she knew she was an inspired gardener and good housekeeper. But Caitlin was ashamed to confess to herself, as she took her bag up to her own room, that she had been making a comparison. How little they had, she thought, as she sat on her bed and gazed around her small room. Her own wall was hung with her mother’s watercolors and one of Serena’s newer weavings that showed the influence of aniline dyes and store-bought wool. There was a small bookshelf that her father had built that held her cherished three shelves of books, a few pottery shards, and the beaded pouch her father had brought back from his trip to Idaho years ago.

It was very different from Susan Beecham’s room. Even the spare room, where Cait stayed when she visited the Beechams’, was at least three times the size and luxurious compared to this. The house and her room greeted her, saying you’re home where you belong, just like her parents had. And she responded. How could she not? But at the same time, she was seeing it with new eyes. Or as a new person. The young girl she had been rejoiced to be home. The young woman she had become wondered how her mother had lived all these years with so few pretty things. New Mexico was a hard place to live, especially for women, thought Cait. I’m so lucky that I have Henry and the possibility of a richer life.

When Gabe arrived at the sheep camp, Eduardo was out with the flock and so he started unpacking the supplies himself. Within a half hour, the sheepherder had returned.

“
Hola, Eduardo. Usted me recuerde?”

“
Si, señor, pero donde esta Jake?
”

“Jake is keeping an eye on things at the ranch while the Burkes pick up their daughter in Grants.”

“Ah, Señorita Caitlin,” said Eduardo, his eyes lighting up. “They will be happy to have her home.” He and Gabe began to carry the supplies to his wagon. “So,
amigo,
you must be good with horses or Mr. Burke would not have hired you.”

“He likes the way I work them. And I like his horses. I like the Burkes very much too,” added Gabe as they got the sacks of flour inside.

“He is a good man, Michael Burke. A good neighbor, too. Do you want something to eat before you head back, Señor Hart?”

“Call me Gabe. And sure, I could use something. I’ll be getting back to the ranch after they’ve finished off supper.”

It was the usual beans and biscuits, but Eduardo had added chile to the beans and his wife had sent him some homemade chokecherry jam.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to move after all those biscuits, Eduardo,” said Gabe, licking his fingers. They sat there, drinking their coffee until Gabe broke the silence.

“Have you seen any of Mackie’s men around lately, Eduardo?”

“The other day,
dos hombres
over on that ridge,” Eduardo said, gesturing to the southwest. “Will you stay around if there is trouble?”

Gabe swallowed the last of his coffee and stared into the fire. “I suppose so,
amigo.”

“Are you good with your gun, Gabe?”

“Some might say very good, Eduardo,” he said with a wry smile.

“You can’t be too good with that Juan Chavez around.”

“Tell me something about this Chavez.”

“No one knows much about him,
señor
. He is maybe Mexican, maybe not….”

“What do you mean?”

“He could be from one of the older families, with his light hair and green eyes. He speaks Spanish like a Mexican. But he speaks English
sin accento
too. Anyway, Anglo or Mexican, whatever he is, he is one bad
hombre.
They say Mackie hired him because he is so good with a gun.”

“Well, you’d better take care of yourself then, Eduardo. Mackie’s more likely to go after Burke’s sheep than his horses.”

“
Yo se, Gabe, y tengo una pistola
as well as a shotgun,” said Eduardo, pointing to the pistol tucked into his belt.

“Thanks for supper, Eduardo. And tell your wife her jelly was the best thing I’ve had on my biscuits since I left home.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that,
amigo.
”

“Do you have any children?” Gabe asked as they walked over to the horses.

“
Tres hijas y uno hijo
,”
said Eduardo with a proud smile.

“I thought sheepherders didn’t get home much,” joked Gabe.

“Yes, but those times that I do…” Eduardo answered with a wink.

“
Adios,
Eduardo.”

“
Adios
, Gabe.”

He hadn’t said much, this Gabe, thought Eduardo as he watched the man ride off. But somehow he gave the impression that he was damned good with his gun, too.

Gabe rode slowly, the almost full moon lighting his way. It was past midnight by the time he got back to the ranch and he had to unsaddle the horses and water and feed them before he could fall into his own bed. He didn’t sleep well. Maybe it was all the coffee he’d drunk or all the chile he’d eaten. Or maybe it was because of what was going on in this valley, he thought, as he awoke from another dream of Lincoln County.

* * * *

It had all seemed so clear in the beginning. He’d found a job with John Tunstall, an Englishman who owned a small ranch near Lincoln. Gabe had hit it off with him immediately because of their shared love of horses, and Tunstall had won him over completely when Gabe saw him with Colonel, a chestnut the army had rejected because of blindness. Tunstall had taught Colonel how to obey voice commands and could even make the horse understand when they were coming to an uphill or downhill part of a trail.

After years of wandering, Gabe had thought he’d found a place to call home. He’d fallen in love with the schoolteacher, Caroline Bryce, and joked in his letters to Sadie how he was following in his pa’s footsteps. He’d saved a little money over the years and figured he might even be able to buy himself a small spread. Then Tunstall was murdered and all hell broke loose in Lincoln County.

In his grief and fury, Gabe joined a posse led by Dick Brewer, Tunstall’s foreman. Brewer was one of the best-liked men in town and when he had himself sworn in as deputy constable, it seemed as if justice might prevail. But the system was corrupt, from the local sheriff all the way up to Thomas Catron, the U.S. attorney, and Gabe found himself riding with a group of men who were now considered vigilantes. At least that’s what Caroline had called them. The Regulators, as they called themselves, had been declared illegal by the legally constituted authorities.

“But those authorities are corrupt!” Gabe protested.

“If they
are
corrupt, then they will be voted out,” she would patiently explain to Gabe as though he were one of her schoolchildren and she was giving him a civics lesson.

“And in the meantime, do we let ourselves be taken over by men like John Kinney?”

“He’s a Texas Ranger, Gabe.”

“Goddamn it, Caroline, he’s an outlaw responsible for destroying the peace in El Paso, and now he’s going to do it here. The fact that he’s wearing a badge doesn’t mean shit.” Caroline blushed and Gabe apologized, but they quarreled every time they were together.

“I don’t know if I can marry someone who chooses violence over the law, Gabe,” Caroline finally told him.

“You
know
I’m not a violent man, Caroline.”

“I hadn’t thought so until now, Gabe,” she’d replied sadly. She pulled gently at the garnet ring he’d given her and held it out.

“Caroline, don’t do this. You know I love you.”

“I am sorry, Gabe, but you’re not the man I fell in love with.”

“Then you didn’t fall in love with Gabriel Hart, but someone you thought I was or would like me to be,” he said bitterly.

But when Brewer was killed, Gabe knew things were out of control and he left Lincoln, wandering from job to job, breaking horses when he could, herding cows when he had to. He avoided violence and figured he was just not meant to settle down.

Now here he was, after years of running away from those memories, committed to supporting Michael Burke, with his gun if necessary. “Well, a man has to stop running sometime,” he told himself.

* * * *

When he got up the next morning, he’d gotten only about three hours of sleep.

“You look like hell, cowboy,” he said, groaning as he splashed cold water on his face. He had black circles under his eyes and a bitter taste in his mouth. “And you’ve got three colts and three two-year-olds to work this morning.”

The horses knew how tired he was, of course. They had a sixth sense for these things, always knowing when a man was hung over or just not on top of things. Of course, they took advantage of it, the yearlings acting like they’d never seen a halter before, much less been led around for days, and the two-year-olds refusing to trot in a circle, much less reverse directions or do figure eights for him.

Gabe was so tired and so angry at himself and the horses that he had no idea when he’d gained an audience. He only saw the girl sitting on the corral fence when he was lunging the last two-year-old. Shit. He’d thought the morning couldn’t get any worse and here was Miss Burke just home from school back east watching him make a fool of himself.

He felt a little better when he actually got the last two-year-old to reverse and do a figure eight at a walk. Maybe he didn’t look like a complete fool.

And maybe he did. The look of disgust on Miss Burke’s face was fleeting, but it had been there.

He took off his hat and smoothing down his hair, said: “Good morning. You must be Miss Burke.”

“And you must be Gabe Hart, the new wrangler,” she said coolly, not bothering to extend her hand. “My father told me about you. He said you were very good with the horses,” she added in a tone that was polite enough but held enough skepticism to annoy Gabe, even more than her obvious reluctance to shake his hand. Little snob was what she was, he thought, and he wouldn’t have expected it of Burke’s daughter.

He only said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“My Da says you’ve been working with Heathcliff.”

Gabe frowned. “Heathcliff?”

“The black two-year-old,” said Caitlin, blushing a little. She
would
have to change his name.

“Oh, Sky?” Gabe hesitated. “What did your father tell you about him?”

“Just that you’d been training him, Mr. Hart. But now that I’m home, I’ll be working with him, so you can concentrate on the other horses.”

It was clear that Michael Burke had not yet told his daughter of Sky’s accident and Gabe certainly didn’t think it was his place to enlighten her. He supposed he could understand her desire to train her own horse, especially after seeing him with the others this morning!

“I guess that’d be a decision for Mr. Burke to make,” said Gabe quietly, looking up at Caitlin.

His eyes, which were a dark blue, looked up at her steadily. Cait was annoyed that he was trying to make her feel unable to make such a decision for herself, as though she were incompetent. If anyone was incompetent, it was this Gabe Hart. Heathcliff was her horse, after all. Two years ago she would have blurted this all out. But she was eighteen now and a grown woman and could act with as much dignity as this irritating Mr. Hart.

“It is a decision that my father and I will make together, Mr. Hart,” she replied.

It was a verbal slap in the face and they both knew it. But Gabe just tipped his hat, saying, “Good morning, Miss Burke,” as she climbed off the fence and walked to the house.

He’d put in a lot of time with her horse, he thought, as he went into the barn. He didn’t
think
Michael Burke would let her take Sky, not until Gabe had determined if he would ever be ridden. But on the other hand, Burke sure had been looking forward to his daughter’s return. If she was the apple of his eye, he just might take the horse away from Gabe. It would be bad for the horse and unfair to Gabe. And what the hell kind of name was Heathcliff for a horse anyway!

* * * *

Her father was out checking the fences in the southwest field all morning, so it wasn’t until lunchtime that Caitlin had a chance to speak with him.