Texas Rifles (11 page)

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Authors: Elmer Kelton

BOOK: Texas Rifles
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The captain said sharply, “I already feel badly enough about this. Don't make it any worse for me.” Turning away, he said to Miguel, “Take a few men and go bring that bunch of stolen horses up here. Some of us need remounts.”
He walked on out across the grass, halting just once to look back.
Cloud said with satisfaction, “It's eatin' at him. That's a good sign.”
The older prisoner said, “Truth of it is, Mister Cloud, I wasn't really thinkin' much about the captain when I done it. I could see that gun lyin' out there, and I didn't
have one. I wanted that gun. I didn't care about the captain.”
Cloud held down a grin. “For God's sake, don't you tell
him
that!”
Later that afternoon they came back by the abandoned wagon. Footprints showed the old man and the old woman had gone on to Moseley's, as suggested. The captain let the two brothers hook their recovered horses to the wagon and drive it. The company camped for the night at Moseley's place.
Several times Cloud saw the captain looking at the two brothers and their family. With Lige Moseley, he discussed the uncertainty he could see in the officer's face.
“Lige, I think he's about made up his mind. Only question is, how can he do it and get by with it. You got a couple of extra horses you'd be willin' to swap to that old man—a couple of
fast
horses?”
Lige Moseley pulled at his whiskers. “I don't want you gittin' the idea I go along with your Union leanin's, 'cause I don't. But I kind of took a likin' to them two boys.” His white teeth showed in a smile. “I just
might
have a pair of horses, sure enough.”
Presently the captain came over to Moseley. “Mister Moseley, yesterday you offered to guard our prisoners. I have a lot of tired men needing rest. Would you still consent to do it—to guard them tonight?” While Lige considered, the captain added pointedly, “Now, I wouldn't want you to go to sleep. Of course, you being a civilian, I couldn't do anything to you if you did. You
would
stay awake, wouldn't you?”
Lige grinned. “Sure, Captain. You can count on me to do what's right!”
 
Next morning Lige and Elkin walked up to the captain just at daylight and shook his shoulder. The captain turned over on his blanket and raised up on one elbow, blinking.
Lige said, “Captain, I'm afraid them two prisoners has gotten away!”
“Gotten away?” Barcroft asked with little show of surprise. “Now, I wonder how they did that?”
“Reckon I went to sleep, Captain, even after the promise I made you. Tireder than I really thought. Boys taken a couple of my horses and headed south. Must've gone sometime early in the night.”
Elkin asked Barcroft, “Should we go after them?”
The captain shook his head, a shadow of a grin about him. “They have too much of a lead on us now. There'd be no use in it.”
Elkin began to understand, humor playing in his eyes. “We
could
notify some of the companies to the south of us.”
The captain looked at the smiling Cloud, then cut his gaze back to Elkin. “Yes, I guess we could. I'll write a letter to Austin—first time I think about it.”
I
NDIAN RAIDS EXCEPTED, IT WAS ONE OF THE MOST exciting days Brush Hill had ever known. The word came in that Easter Rutledge's brother was due to arrive. Down at the Lawton house, Mother Lawton and Hanna and several other women bustled about in good-natured confusion, trying to get Easter prepared for the meeting. But if anything, they were just making her more and more flustered, more and more nervous.
Cloud went down to see what was happening and found Hanna working with Easter's hair while Mother Lawton sewed one of Hanna's dresses, taking it up to fit Easter. Other women were cooking up a feast—or such a feast as an isolated frontier community could ever have.
Looks like they're fixin' to feed fifty people,
Cloud thought.
Ain't but one brother, is there?
Without any patrol duty to perform, and somehow getting the feeling he was underfoot in all this feminine company,
Cloud rode off down the south trail alone and took up a station in the shade of an oak. Loose-tying his horse, he sat on the ground. With one eye watching the trail, he idly sketched maps in the sand, then wiped them out and started over. This, to him, was a worthwhile pastime in that it helped firm in his mind the outline of the various parts of the country he had ridden in.
Tiring of his mapmaking, he finally settled down to watching the trail, looking for a sign of a rider. He asked himself a dozen times what kind of man Easter's brother would turn out to be. He asked himself if Easter would really be happy when she found her own family. Maybe she would. He had seen the glow in her eyes a while ago. She had been depending strongly upon this, for there was little else she
could
depend upon anymore. She had left so much behind her … .
Cloud almost wished they had never found her brother. Again and again her words came back to him:
Would you marry me, Cloud? Would you marry me?
He clenched his fist.
Why didn't I tell her yes? Why couldn't I be man enough to forget about that Indian?
Now, he knew, it was too late. This was a big country. Once she went south, chances were he would never see her again. He might not even be able to find her if he tried.
A man can be a fool sometimes. If he really loves a woman, he ought to be able to forget about everything else. Why couldn't I?
He saw the wagon a long time before it reached him, and somehow he knew this would be the man. Slowly he stood up and stretched himself, then stood stiffly and watched the wagon approach. As it neared, he stepped out away from the tree and toward the trail. He held up his hand.
The man hauled up on the lines and spoke to his team.
“Whoa, there, whoa-a-a.” The dust from the wheels swirled up around him and then drifted out leisurely on the breeze from the north. The young man twisted his face at the taste of the dust, then turned toward Cloud and asked, “How much farther to Brush Hill?”
Cloud eyed him carefully, looking for some resemblance to Easter. “You're almost there.” The man was perhaps a couple or three years older than Easter. He had the skin of a man used to staying indoors. Storekeeper, perhaps. But there was something about his eyes that showed he was related to Easter, no mistake about that. “Would you by any chance answer to the name of Rutledge?”
The young man nodded. “I would.” He quietly looked Cloud over from head to foot. “And what might be your business with me?”
Cloud shrugged. “No business, I reckon. I just rode out to get the first look at you, and help you find your way in. Cloud's my name.” He extended his hand. Rutledge hesitated, then took it.
“Kenneth Rutledge is mine. Ken, better known.”
A vague reserve still held the man, as if he somehow distrusted Cloud. “Did they send you out to meet me?”
“Came on my own. I was the one found Easter … Miss Rutledge. Got kind of a special interest in her, I guess you'd say. Wanted to be sure her brother didn't have no trouble findin' where she's at.”
Rutledge seemed to be looking a hole through Cloud. “You can stop worrying about her now, Mister … what was it … Cloud? She'll be my responsibility from now on.”
Uncomfortable, Cloud stepped back. “Well, I expect you'll be wantin' to get on in to the settlement.”
“It's been a long trip,” Rutledge acknowledged. “But tell me, how does my sister look?”
Cloud blurted, “She looks mighty good to me.” Then,
realizing how awkward that sounded, he corrected himself. “What I mean is, she's in good health. Folks here've taken fine care of her.”
Kenneth Rutledge nodded. “That's nice of them,” He looked ahead of him, up the trail. “Shall we go on?”
He doesn't think much of me, seems like,
thought Cloud. “Sure,” he said, “Why not?”
Rutledge started his team as Cloud walked back to his horse and swung into the saddle. Cloud spurred to catch up, then pulled his horse to an easy trot alongside the wagon.
“Kind of a surprise to you, I reckon,” he spoke, “findin' out after all these years that she was still alive.”
“A real shock. I'd given her up for dead—we all had—a long time ago. Ever since the word came, I've been wondering—worrying—how she was going to be.”
“Well, you sure don't have to be a-worryin'. She's fine, and you can take my word for that.”
Cloud felt Rutledge's eyes appraising him, and he got the notion Rutledge didn't accept his judgment as amounting to much.
I look a little like an Indian myself these days,
he thought, seeking the reason.
All that ridin', all that sun
…
He pulled up at the Rifles' camp, and Kenneth Rutledge sawed on the reins, stopping his wagon. Looking at the man's dusty face, the dark shadow of whiskers, Cloud said, “I expect you'd like to clean up and maybe shave before you go on to see Easter.”
Stepping down from the wagon, Rutledge said, “I'd appreciate it.”
“I'll introduce you to Captain Barcroft. Then I'll ride on down and tell the folks you're here, so they can be ready.”
Rutledge held back a moment. “Cloud, tell me one thing. Have the years in captivity done much to her? I
mean, I've been wondering how she would fit in. We have a tight-knit little community back home now. Settled folks, churchgoing people. Good-hearted and all, but sort of set in their ways, you understand. Easter's going to be a real curiosity to them. They'll have their eyes on her.” He frowned. “It wouldn't be her fault, of course, if she made a few mistakes right at first. After all those years among the savages … you couldn't expect perfection.”
An oddly cold feeling touched Cloud's stomach. “Don't you worry none about Easter. She'll do fine.”
The women could tell by the look on Cloud's face as he walked up to the Lawtons' door.
“He's here?” Mrs. Lawton asked, her hands clasped tightly against her bosom.
Cloud nodded. “Yes'm, he's here.”
Other women began to talk all at the same time and ask so many questions he couldn't keep up with them. Cloud looked about for Easter and found her standing toward the back of the room, face pale from excitement. Her lips were drawn tightly against her teeth, and she was making a strong effort not to cry. She smiled a weak smile at Cloud, but she could not hold it long.
Cloud walked to her. He wanted to take her hands in his, but not in front of all this company. Besides, what good would it do now? She would be going soon. “Easter,” he said, “he'll be along directly. He stopped off at the camp to clean up a little.”
It was a painful effort for her to speak. “Cloud, what is he like?”
Cloud shrugged. “He's your brother. He looks a little like you.”
“Is he nice?”
Cloud hesitated. “Why … he'd have to be, bein' your brother.”
Easter looked around for a chair and sank into it. Cloud
could see she was trembling. She said, “Stay here, will you, Cloud?”
“Sure, I will, Easter. Just as long as you want me.”
Mother Lawton came over, trembling as badly as Easter. “Now, child, don't you be nervous.” The absurdity of her own words struck her funny, and she began to laugh. Easter laughed too, and some of the tension was gone. Mother Lawton took Easter's hand and patted it fondly. “Everything's going to be all right, you watch.”
Easter said weakly, “I know. I won't be nervous.”
The old woman kept patting Easter's hand. Cloud watched her and thought,
Thank God for a woman like Mother Lawton. It would be a poorer country without her.
Hanna Lawton stayed close to the front door, watching. It seemed like hours before she turned and said tensely, “They're coming. Aaron's bringing him.”
Cloud saw Easter stiffen. Quietly he spoke to her. “Easy now, girl.” Mother Lawton stood up and took Easter's hands, gently pulling the girl to her feet. The old woman tried hard to smile and reassure Easter, but she had begun trembling again herself.
Aaron Barcroft stepped through the door, glanced quickly around, then made a sweeping motion with his hand, bidding Kenneth Rutledge to enter. Hat in hand, Rutledge walked in. His blue eyes made a rapid search around the hushed room, then fell upon Easter. His tongue came to his lips, and his chin quivered. He said almost in a whisper, “Easter?”
The girl tried to answer, but no sound came. She lifted her slender hand to her throat, then nodded. The hand shook. Her head went back a little, and the tears broke.
Kenneth Rutledge strode slowly across the room toward her. At arm's length he stopped a moment, looking down at the girl. Then he put his arms around her and pulled
her against him, dropping his hat to the rough wooden floor.
Cloud turned and stared out the open window, his throat drawn into a knot. He heard Mother Lawton move slowly to the wall beside him. She was looking up at a framed picture of Jesus.
“Thank the Good Lord,” he heard her breathe. “Thank the Good Lord!”
 
Most of the crowd had gone. Darkness had come, and the Lawtons and their company sat in the front yard, enjoying the coolness of the night. Henry Lawton and Mother Lawton sat in the chairs on the porch. Easter and her brother had pulled chairs out into the yard. Captain Barcroft stood to one side, Hanna Lawton near him, stealing glances at him.
Cloud sat on the ground, a stick in his hand, idly scratching marks that he couldn't even see. He was unusually edgy, knowing Rutledge was about to take Easter away. He watched the captain and Hanna.
If the captain had any imagination atall, he'd take Hanna for a walk,
he thought.
That's what she wants. What does it take to make him see?
Kenneth Rutledge was talking quietly. “There aren't but two of us left now, just my sister Flora and me. And Easter here makes three, of course. Mother died several years ago. Can you remember Mother, Easter?”
“A little. Just a little.”
“She never was quite the same after the Indian raid. The rest of us gave Easter up for dead a long time ago, but not Mother. To the last day she lived, she said Easter was still alive. Got tired of listening to her sometimes. I guess a parent never can really give up.”
Cloud glanced quickly at Aaron Barcroft and saw him draw up a little. Hanna touched the captain's arm.
Kenneth Rutledge said, “I was about nine or ten when it happened. You were about six, weren't you, Easter?” When Easter appeared confused, he said, “Of course you wouldn't know anymore. I don't suppose time means much in an Indian camp.”
Irritably Cloud thought,
It'd mean a lot if you was a captive!
“Yes,” Rutledge went on, “I was about nine or ten. I stayed home that day to chop wood. Dad and our older brother went out afoot to work on a rock fence they were building. Easter wasn't supposed to follow after them, but she did. First we knew of the Indians was when we heard shots. Mother hustled Flora and me into the house and barred the door. I guess she knew, even then, that the others weren't coming back. She got down the old rifle, and she took up a stand by the window.
“After a little while the Indians came to the house a-horseback. They wanted in, but they could see Mother there with the rifle. They shouted threats at her, but she poked that gun out, and they knew she meant business. Then—I'll never forget it—they brought up Easter. One of them had her in front of him on a horse. And they had two fresh scalps. They waved them around and made signs like they were going to take Easter's scalp, too.
“It broke Mother's heart, but she couldn't help Easter, and she couldn't let them in. They'd have murdered us all if she had. None of those Comanches wanted to be the one she killed with that rifle. So finally they left, and took Easter with them. Neighbors followed their trail later, expecting to find Easter's body somewhere along the way. They never did, but everybody told Mother she was bound to be dead.”

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