No One But You (11 page)

From now on, she would make certain her children had reasons to laugh. If she couldn't do it, she'd ask Salty. She was going to promise something else, too. She was going to start all over with him, pretend she didn't know anything about him. She was going to judge him by what he did, not by what other men had done. It was becoming increasingly clear that she wasn't able to control her attraction to him, so she was going to stop fighting it. She wasn't in love with him, exactly, and never expected that she would be. Still, it would be nice to have a man as a friend, one she could turn to when she had a question, needed some advice, or just needed a shoulder to lean on. She didn't want him to do everything for her, but she wanted something she didn't have now. She wasn't sure what it was. Maybe she would have to define it as it began to take shape, but she was going to take the risk.

She wondered if that's what most women wanted in a husband.

* * *

Salty noticed Sarah's attitude toward him change after the water fight. It had been a silly thing to do, something he hadn't done since he was a child. Maybe he'd been around Zac Randolph too long.

Maybe he shouldn't blame it on Zac but rather on his own immaturity. He'd always given himself credit for a sense of humor, but he'd never considered himself immature. It was probably just a natural response to Ellen's
icky
comment. That was the first time she'd seemed in a playful mood, and he couldn't help but encourage her. From there things had accelerated until Sarah joined. Watching her throw water on him while laughing as hard as either of her children had been the biggest surprise of all. She was so serious, she made the air around her feel heavy. Now, as they neared her ranch—he had to start thinking of it as
their
ranch—he had to decide what his reaction was going to be.

“This is Mr. Wallace's land,” Ellen was telling him. “He doesn't like us. He wants to buy Mama's ranch.”

As they drew closer to the San Marcos River, the rolling hills had given way to nearly flat land covered with groves of elm, hackberry, cottonwood, and grassy meadows. Stagnant pools populated with frogs and sunning turtles alternated with open grasslands shared by cows and white-tailed deer. The air was softer, warmer, more moist. Spring would be here soon.

“Mr. Wallace doesn't want to pay enough for the land,” Jared added. “Mama says he's a mean-spirited old skinflint.”

He'd never heard Sarah make a derogatory comment about anyone except her husband, but Salty was convinced a spirited woman existed under the staid exterior. All she needed was the right reason to let that side of her come out. He didn't know what that reason might be, but he thought it might be fun to find it. Everyone ought to have a reason to smile from time to time. It was the good moments that made the bad ones bearable.

“Arnie said he was trying to steal our cows,” Ellen said.

“I don't think he's trying to steal our cows,” Sarah told her daughter, “but he has tried to make things so difficult I would give up and sell to him. Adding my land to his would give him the biggest ranch in the county.”

They were riding abreast, Salty and Jared in one wagon and Sarah and Ellen in the other, but it was hard to carry on a conversation over the noise of the horses' hooves and the wagons rattling along the rough trail.

“Arnie said Wallace was so stingy he wouldn't hire enough men to take care of his herd,” Ellen said. “He said we could steal from him if we wanted.”

Arnie didn't sound like the kind of man who ought to be around impressionable children, but Salty supposed Sarah hadn't had much to choose from when she was looking for hired hands. Between the brutality of war and the loss of everything they valued, many men had become hard and cruel, not hesitating to take advantage of others. Women and children were especially vulnerable.

“Mama says only bad people steal,” Jared told Salty. “Have you ever stolen?”

“Jared, that's a rude question.” Sarah sounded shocked. “Apologize to Salty immediately.”

“That's not necessary,” Salty said. “I can't expect him to answer my questions if I'm not willing to answer his.”

“He should take for granted that you're honest.”

Salty turned to face Sarah. “None of us can take anything for granted until we've faced temptation that seems impossible to resist.”

“Have you ever faced temptation like that?”

Salty turned to Jared. “Many times.” He wasn't going to tell them about the times he had been tempted to suffocate his father and put them both out of their misery, or the times he was tempted to let him starve rather than fix a meal that would be thrown back at him. “Sometimes during the war we didn't have anything to eat or money to buy food. I didn't steal anything myself, but I ate food others stole. That makes me just as guilty.”

“Mama says if the ranch doesn't get better, we won't have anything to eat. Will we have to steal?”

“No matter what happens with the ranch, you'll always have something to eat.”

“Does that mean you're going to make us have a really big garden?”

Ellen sounded so horrified Salty couldn't repress a laugh. “Yes, it means we're going to have a really big garden. But we'll also have pigs, chickens, and a milk cow.”

“I don't like pigs and chickens,” Ellen told him.

“I don't either,” Salty responded. “That's why we're going to eat them.”

Ellen giggled. “If you eat the chickens, you won't have any eggs.”

“We'll only eat the ones that are too lazy to lay eggs.”

That started Jared and Ellen making chicken jokes. Salty glanced over at Sarah and was surprised by the look on her face. It was a bemused, sort of amazed, look. She probably thought they were all crazy, and she was wondering how she was going to get through the next ten to fifteen years.

“Is this the turnoff to your ranch?” The trail was faint, but Salty guessed it had to be.

“Can't you see the wheel tracks?” Ellen asked.

“Yes, but I don't see a house.”

“That's because it's hidden by the trees,” Jared told him. “Mama said Grandpa didn't like the wind whistling around his house in the winter so he built it in the middle of a bunch of trees.”

“Sounds like your grandpa was a smart man. I guess that's why you and Ellen are so smart.”

“Salty thinks Ellen and I are smart,” Jared told his mother.

Sarah turned to her son with a softened expression. “Of course you are. How many times have I told you that you're the smartest children I ever knew?”

“You're our mama,” Ellen said. “Arnie said mamas
have
to think their children are smart.”

“You'd better be smart,” Salty said. “I'm depending on you and Jared to help me with the ranch.”

“Ellen can do that,” Jared said. “I can't ride.”

Salty was about to say that they'd have to see about that when Sarah's exclamation surprised him. “What's
he
doing here?”

Salty followed Sarah's gaze until he saw a man on the trail ahead who didn't look like a prosperous rancher.

“Is that Wallace?”

“No,” Ellen said. “It's Arnie.”

Arnie had been leaning against a tree by the side of the trail like he was waiting for someone. He looked to be in his forties, stocky of build, and dressed in clothes that showed hard use. He stepped into the center of the trail when the wagons came into view.

“I thought you said Arnie quit,” Salty said.

“He did,” Sarah told him.

“Then what is he doing here?”

“I don't know.”

Salty eyed Sarah. “Do you want him here?”

“No, and I intend to tell him so.”

“Maybe it would come better from me,” Salty suggested. “Knowing I'm your husband ought to convince him he's no longer needed.”

He could see Sarah struggle with herself. “I want to know why he came back.”

“Can't you guess?”

She might not have thought it before, but she did now. “Maybe it would be better if you talked to him.”

“Pull your wagon behind mine. Ellen, jump down and ride with your mother.”

He had expected Ellen to object or demand a reason, but maybe the tone of his voice told Ellen this was a time to do as she was told and save her questions.

“What are you going to do?” Jared asked in a whisper. He had caught the tenor of the situation better than his sister.

“That depends on Arnie.” Like so many other times in his life, Salty was going into a situation virtually blind. He'd survived before. He expected to survive this time as well.

Arnie moved out of the trail to let Salty pass, but Salty brought his wagon to a stop next to him. Despite his downtrodden appearance, Arnie was a respectable-looking man who appeared to enjoy good health. His questioning smile showed good teeth; his cheeks sported a beard that was probably only three or four days old.

“Howdy. My name is Benton Wheeler. What can I do for you?”

Arnie's gaze slid past Salty and came to rest on Sarah. “Nothing. I'm here to see Sarah—I mean Miz Winborne.”

Salty forced a smile. “She's not Miz Winborne anymore. She's Mrs. Wheeler now.”

Arnie's gaze had been focused on Salty as he spoke, but now his gaze whipped around to Sarah. “You're married?”

“Yes,” Sarah replied.

“But you didn't know him a week ago.”

“I was introduced to him by someone whose opinion I respect.”

“I would have married you.” Arnie balled his fists in anger. “Why do you think I talked everybody in Austin out of working for you?”

“Considering the things you said before you left, there was no way I could have guessed the nature of your feelings.”

“I was angry you didn't feel the same.”

Salty decided it was time to stop this useless conversation. “I can sympathize with your situation, but I really can't have you talking to my wife like this.”

“Did you really marry him?” Arnie looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“Yeah, she did,” Jared answered for his mother. “Ellen and I were both there.” The boy's confirmation seemed to deflate Arnie.

“How long have you been here?” Salty asked.

“Three days.” Which explained why he didn't have a bedroll or a knapsack with him. “I thought Sarah would come back when she couldn't find anybody to work for her.” Which would have put her in the position of having to accept him on his terms.

“Have you been taking care of the ranch?” Salty asked.

“What else would I have been doing?”

Besides plotting the downfall of an innocent woman? Salty thought to himself. “My wife and I appreciate your looking after the place. I believe standard wages are thirty dollars a month, so we owe you three dollars.”

“You don't owe me nothing,” Arnie growled.

“Yes, I do, and I like to pay my debts.” Salty pulled out his money pouch and extracted three silver dollars, which he held out to Arnie. “I don't like to appear rude, but we've got a lot of work to do to get everything settled in before dark.”

Arnie ran his gaze over the second wagon, the cow, the pigs, the chickens, and Salty's two riding horses. Salty wondered if he could tell Jared and Ellen were wearing some of the clothes Rose Randolph had given them.

“Looks like you found yourself a husband with money,” he said to Sarah.

Salty didn't like what he said or the way he said it. A little more, and Arnie would find that Texas husbands didn't like it when men hassled their wives. He announced, “I think five minutes will be enough time for you to be saddled up and riding out. If it takes more than that, I may have to lend a hand.”

“You fancy you can make me?”

Arnie was heavy and muscular, but his movements were slow. A man with Salty's wiry strength could wear him down while dancing out of range of his heavy fists. “I always had a reputation as a good fighter, and no jury would convict a man for defending his wife, no matter how he decided to do it.”

Arnie hesitated a moment before uttering an oath and turning on his heel.

“I wish you'd hit him,” Jared said.

“I had enough of fighting during the war,” Salty replied. Enough of fighting the murderous McClendon clan and Cortina's rapacious rustlers. Enough fighting his father just to get through one day in peace. All he wanted out of life was a bit of land to call his own and someone to love. Sarah had given him a way to get the first. He hoped her children would provide him with the second.

He was relieved when he followed the trail into a grove of post oaks and found himself facing a small but well-built house. He brought the wagon to a halt, put the brake on, and wrapped the reins around the handle.

It was one of those crisp, late winter/early spring evenings when the air looked blue despite a weak sun's efforts to warm it. Despite the lingering cold, Texas mountain laurel was already showing flower buds, while bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush were thrusting their heads toward the meager shafts of sunlight. A grandfather of yucca plants thrust its shaggy neck toward the sky, its crown of spiky leaves a sunburst of dull green. A chorus of birds, each looking for the best resting place for the coming night, quarreled among the treetops.

Sarah's house stood in the center of the open space within the circle of trees, its weathered wood, cracked and blistered with age, meshing with the background. A stone chimney rose only a few feet above a roof of shingles bleached gray from summers of harsh sun and winters of cold rain. A door and two curtained windows, looking unnervingly like a nose and two eyes in a weather-beaten face, welcomed the family home. It wasn't anything like his father's house in Georgia, but somehow it felt more like home than any place Salty had been in the years since.

“Ellen, you can help your mother take your luggage into the house. Jared and I will take care of the livestock.”

“Jared can hardly walk,” she reminded him.

“We'll figure something out.”

Salty wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he was determined Jared wouldn't go on feeling he couldn't do anything except sit around the house. The first thing would be to devise something that would enable him to walk on his own, something like the various crutches his father had discarded without giving any of them an honest try. After that, he would tackle teaching the boy to ride.

“You need a hand?” he asked Sarah. She had climbed down from the wagon and was reaching for a bag of clothes Ellen was handing her.

“Ellen and I can take care of everything here. I'll start supper as soon as I get everything unloaded.”

“There's no need to hurry,” he told her. “It's still early yet, and Jared and I have a lot to do.”

“I'll send Ellen to help as soon as we get everything unloaded.”

“I want to take care of the horses,” Ellen called out. “Arnie always let me.”

“I'll save that job for you,” Salty promised. “Now Jared can show me the shed where I'll be living.” Sarah had already told him there was no room for him in the house. He lifted the boy from one wagon to the other, climbed up next to him then took the reins and started the horse forward. “You'll have to tell me where all the animals go.”

“There isn't any place,” Jared replied. “The chickens used to roost in the trees, and the sows go wherever they want.”

“What about the horses?”

“We have a corral, but there are so many holes in it our horses keep getting out.”

Salty had hoped to be able to start working with the herd soon, but it looked like he was going to be occupied around the ranch proper for longer than he wanted.

The shed had apparently begun as exactly that, open at the front and on both sides, the roof slanting down from front to back. Since then it had been closed in with ill-fitting boards. It had a doorway and single window in the front.

Arnie was coming out of it as they drove up. He threw an angry glance at Salty before heading toward his horse with two bundles under his arms. Once he secured the bundles on his horse, he headed back to the shed, only to emerge a moment later with a sack that sounded like it contained a collection of metal items—probably his coffeepot and everything else he used to cook and eat his meals. After tying this to his saddle, he turned and approached Salty. He looked over the livestock before he spoke.

“It's good you've got some money. It's going to take some to pull this place through.”

“If you don't have any money, how did you think to marry Sarah?” Salty asked.

Arnie didn't answer. Instead he said, “There's not one man in a thousand who gets a chance for a woman like that.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I wanted to be her husband, not her hired hand. I never figured on her finding somebody like you.”

Salty chastised himself for judging too hastily. From his tone, Arnie seemed to have a genuine affection for Sarah. “I'll take good care of her,” he promised the man.

Arnie glanced at Jared then back at Salty. “The boy seems to like you. He never did me.” Jared was leaning against Salty as though for protection. Arnie looked out over the expanse of grass at the tree-covered hill in the distance. “Tell Sarah I'm sorry I said the things I did. I never said anything bad about her, just about the ranch.”

Salty and Jared remained silent while Arnie mounted and rode away without looking back.

After he disappeared beyond the trees, Jared said, “I still don't like him.”

“That's okay,” Salty said. “You can't be expected to like everyone.”

“I didn't like the way he looked at Mama.”

Salty could easily imagine that the hunger in Arnie's eyes was noticeable to a child as sensitive as Jared. He didn't have to understand it to be frightened by it. “He's gone now, so let's see what my home looks like.”

“Ellen says she'd like to stay out here, but Mama says it's hardly fit for humans.”

Salty lifted the boy down from the wagon. “Since I have to sleep here, maybe your mama doesn't think I'm human.”

“Mama is afraid of men.”

“Why?” The question was inappropriate, but he was so surprised by Jared's statement the word slipped out before he could stop it.

“I don't know.” Jared's face wrinkled in thought. “Ellen isn't afraid of anybody. I don't think I'm afraid of anybody, either. But I don't like some people.”

“That's perfectly normal,” Salty assured him.

He opened the door and stepped inside the shed. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but beyond providing a roof and walls, it offered virtually nothing in the way of comfort. The meager light coming through the door and window revealed no bed.

“I hope your mother intends to let me eat at the house. If I built a cook fire in here, I'd die of smoke inhalation or burn the place down.”

“All the hired men ate with us,” Jared told Salty. “Mama said she had to make sure they had something to eat so they could work hard.”

“Let's get my stuff inside. Then we can decide what to do about the livestock.”

Jared propped himself up against the wall while Salty brought in his few belongings. He dropped his bedroll in the corner with an inward sigh over the lost comfort of his bunk bed at the Circle Seven. After a moment he told the boy, “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Outside, he unhitched one of his horses, jumped on the animal bareback and spurred him into a fast canter. It took only a few minutes to catch up with Arnie. “Will you do something for me?” he asked as he pulled alongside.

“What?” Arnie didn't appear too eager to help.

“I've got some lumber being sent out from town in a few days. Could you ask the man to bring a mattress as well and add it to my bill?”

“I slept on the ground for more than a year.”

“I slept on the ground for four years during the war, and I'm not eager to do it again.”

At first it looked like Arnie was going to refuse. But as nearly always happened, learning Salty was an ex-soldier altered people's attitude.

“I fought for two years until I was captured,” Arnie told him. “They let me come home after I promised not to reenlist.” Arnie nodded his agreement to deliver Salty's message then continued his journey.

When Salty got back to the shed, Jared asked, “Where did you go?”

“I asked Arnie to have the lumber man send me a mattress.”

“You don't have a bed,” the boy pointed out.

“I'll make a frame with some of the lumber.”

“Can I watch?”

“You can help.”

Jared didn't smile. “You don't have to keep pretending I can do things.”

Salty knelt so he could look the boy in the eye. “There'll always be things you can't do. That's true for everybody. However, there are lots of things you can
learn
to do. I'm not ready to talk to your mother about it yet, but I plan to teach you to ride a horse.”

“Do you think I can?” The hope and excitement in the boy's eyes were wonderful to see.