These Is My Words (26 page)

She opened it like a little glutton, and whooped at the pretty things. It was a whole set of little colored wooden blocks. Each block had three letters of the alphabet, and a carved in picture of an animal, and a word she can learn to read. All different colors, too, she began to hold them up to us and ask Red? Blue? and we would say, Yes, or No, that’s yellow, that’s green. She said yellow in funny baby talk, but the rest she said real well, and she was just beside herself over the blocks. It wouldn’t be polite not to ask him to stay for supper, so I did, and he stayed. It was a warm evening, and after we ate we sat on the porch fanning and not talking much, watching April make tumbling down stacks of blocks.

Finally, I said, Are you planning to sleep at Albert’s again? He said he was. He came to see if I needed chores done tomorrow, but Albert had asked him to help him a bit, so he wouldn’t be by until the afternoon.

July 20, 1885

Noon was still aways off, and April and I decided to have a cool bath on the back porch. Toobuddy had followed Captain Elliot back to Albert’s, so I sat Bear by the front near the rose bush, and pointed my finger at him. If you see any ornery looking man coming this way, I told him, you bark loud, Bear. And if he doesn’t stop coming, don’t hesitate to take off his leg.

I thought it was early and we’d have plenty of time before Captain Elliot came, so I filled the wash tub with cool water and we were splashing and having a nice time, both of us like little bathing girls, when I heard a horse whinny. I looked up through my wet hair, and there, right in front of me was a man on horseback.

It was that Moses Smith fellow from long ago. Well, looky here, he said. If it ain’t the Mizzez Reed and a little rat?

Get away from here, I said. Haven’t you got any decency?

He just got off his horse and laughed and said, Well, I ain’t been accused of it lately. He was just peering at me and looking scary. I was looking for my towels and they were too far away to reach without getting out of the tub. He walked up onto the porch and I was too scared to move but trying to cover myself with my arms. I come for some of your cooking, Mizz Reed, he said. But I see that I can have something else instead.

No you can’t, I said. My, my husband will kill you for saying that, and my baby is here. Bear, Bear! I hollered at the top of my lungs, but Bear didn’t come.

Smith just sneered and I saw he was missing teeth from rot. Your husband is worm fodder, Mizz Reed, I seen his stone in the yard. Then he shook his head at April, And rats, he said, is for drowning. I grabbed April and stood up quick, both of us all wet and slippery, and tried to get to the door with her but he was too fast. He took April from me by one arm, dangling her in the air, and she started to cry.

Don’t hurt her, I cried out. Please don’t hurt her.

So he said, Let’s just say you’d better keep quiet, I don’t want to hear a bunch of noise from you. Get in that house.

No! I yelled, but he held April over the tub head down and lowered her into the water. Stop! Stop, I said, and he took her out and dropped her with a thump on the porch. She shrieked. The sound tore my heart apart.

Get in that house! he ordered. Like a whip he pulled a hunting knife from his belt.

April cried and coughed, in a terrible panic. He followed me inside but left April screaming on the porch, and he shut the door.

I pulled the table cloth up to cover up with and he laughed and kept coming at me and put the knife back in a scabbard. I began to run around the room, but he just kept laughing, and I could hear April was still crying so hard that it broke my heart, and finally he got hold of my table cloth and yanked it out of my hands. I swung my fist at him and hit him, but he just grabbed my hand and twisted and pulled on it so I thought he would pull it off.

He shoved me hard against the wall, and crunched himself up against me, breathing horrible breath, and smelling like a old bear rug. He was short but real strong, and I tried to tell him, My family is coming over, and my neighbors, they’re due here any time.

Shut up, was all he said, and held both my hands in one of his big dirty hands, and with the other hand he began loosening his pants.

Don’t do this, I said. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you all my money. I’ll give you a horse.

I thought I told you to shut up! he hollered then he slapped my face so hard I thought my neck was broke and for a second I thought sure my eye had been crushed, it swelled right up. He looked at me and grinned. I’ll take your money and your horses too, he said, and slapped me a second time, so hard it twisted me around and away from him a little. I thought I could run, but I was dizzy, and he grabbed my hair and pulled me back, dragging me to the floor.

Then I began to fight him with all that was in me, but he just held on and seemed to enjoy it. Finally, he leaned over on top of me and I couldn’t lift my hands under his weight. I could feel him pushing his knees between mine, and I felt eaten alive with panic. No, no! I screamed, and again he slapped my face, but this time I almost didn’t feel it. When he raised his hand to hit me I did the same and slapped him back and it surprised him enough that he missed what he was doing with his knees and was straddling my legs, so I used my right knee and kicked with all my might between his legs. He bellowed out with pain and just got sort of stiff and I kicked him again, which got him off me and I ran toward the kitchen table.

He grabbed one of my ankles, still holding his privates and moaning, but he had me tight like a trap, and I dragged him with me some, trying to get to the hidden pistol. Then he was behind me, standing up, and got to me just as I touched the pistol.

He picked up a knife off the work table, and said, You’re going to pay for that, and he laid that knife against my breast. At that very second I pushed the pistol into his middle and pulled the trigger. I always kept the first chamber empty for safety. He looked down at it for a second and laughed like a sort of bark. Empty! he said.

Suddenly the front door flew in almost torn from the hinges and Jack Elliot was on Moses Smith like a wildcat. Smith was fast for such a heavy man, and took Jack’s punches without a wince. One time it looked like Jack was up against the wall, and just as Smith raised his bloodied knuckles again, I aimed the pistol and shot, striking him in the arm. Jack twisted away from him and got him down to the floor, and beat his head again and again on the floorboards, making the house shake like thunder.

Jack, I said, you’re going to kill him!

That’s what I had in mind, he said. Smith lay silent on the floor. Jack said to me, Keep that gun aimed at him and if he moves a hair blow his brains out. He ran to his horse and brought in a rope which he tied quick around Smith’s neck and dragged him like a dead corpse outside. I reached for my table cloth while he did.

Smith woke up then, and began fighting more, but Jack got the best of him, and when he hit him one more time, and swung him hard with the rope collar he was still wearing, Smith’s head fell against the iron pump near the well, and he didn’t move while Jack tied him hand and foot.

I stood like a statue, frozen to the spot. There by the front steps, sweet old Bear lay dead. Toobuddy laid down by Bear’s old body and whimpered and looked sad. Jack went in the house and pulled a quilt off my bed and wrapped me up in it, and I held on tightly.

April! I yelled. Where is she! Then he went all through the house much faster than me, until he found April, naked and terrified and crying, under a bushel soap basket on the back porch. He wrapped her up too, and brought her to me, and led me into the house and sat us down.

All that time he never did talk, but dipped a cloth in cool water and pressed it to my eye, and murmured Sh-sh to April, and patted her head as she began to quieten down.

Then he got another wet clean cloth and gently pulled the quilt away from me. I looked at him with dread in my heart, but there was nothing but kindness in his eyes as he tenderly put that cloth against my breast where it was bleeding. I watched him do it with surprise because I didn’t even know I was cut. He lifted it and dabbed gently, and finally he said, I don’t think it’s bad, just the very surface. Then he put the cloth back and pulled the quilt up onto my shoulders.

Jack? I said, and I wanted to say more but nothing would come out of my mouth. April was so frightened and exhausted, she sobbed a few times and fell right to sleep, bundled in my arms, so he took her gently and laid her on her bed. When he came back, he knelt by my chair, still without saying anything, and took the cloth and refolded it so it would be cool and put it back on my face.

Jack, I said again, if you hadn’t gotten here, he would have done it, I was almost out of fight.

Then I don’t really know why, except that I wanted to so much, I leaned over and took his neck and kissed him. I slipped out of the chair and into his arms and he held me close and kissed me long and hard, and I kissed him back. Then I leaned my face into his neck and just held onto him for dear life.

Don’t leave me, Jack, I said.

Not ever, he whispered back.

July 21, 1885

Jack made me go stay at Mama’s house. He took Moses Smith to town and handed him over to the Sheriff. I was so bruised and beaten I stayed in bed one whole day. Mama was glad Jack had come there just in time, and she held my hand and cried a while when she thought I was asleep.

I feel like I was hurt inside more than I was outside, and walk the floor at night and sleep fitfully. I also feel like I should tell Mama that I kissed Jack and it wasn’t any innocent sweet little kiss like Jimmy used to give. But I don’t think Mama would understand and she has never been fond of soldiers although she doesn’t mind Captain Elliot too much. All day I look toward the road, hoping to see him riding up. But all day he has not come back.

I know it is too quick to get to Tucson and back in one day, but I look anyway.

July 22, 1885

I am tired and restless. I have a sense that Moses Smith will be lurking behind every rock or tree or corner of the house. I got Rose and rode aways up the hills, and took both my kitchen pistol and my rifle, and plenty of shot. When we reached the place I wanted to stop, I got down but felt purely spooked by the woods around, so I went further up ’til there was a clearing. But there I jumped at every prairie dog or bird call, and like to shot my own foot off with a shaky hand before I realized I was riding with my finger on the trigger. Albert will have to fix this here stirrup as now that there is a hole in it, it is bound to break.

Lord, I was more scared than about any time in my life. Every time I think I have been just as scared and horrified as a body can be, I find there is new terror I am to become acquainted with. What is the use of that, God? How can we get anything done being that scared? And why is there such a person as Moses Smith left alive to walk the earth with the likes of decent God-fearing folks?

I wish Jack Elliot was here. It seems the only time I can take a full breath is when he is nearby. It’s my own hard-headed ways, I suppose. I just hate to give in to things and admit I need help. But he is the only person I ever knew who didn’t act like he was offering it. He is just there, doing what needs to be done, as if it was the only thing to do. Most people who help you, when they aren’t your kin, do it with a kind of disregard and look real hopeful to see your gratefulness and cowtowing to them for the rest of your days. He isn’t like that a bit. I suspect if he was to be around more often, I wouldn’t mind too much. I suspect I might be kindly disposed to his kind of help, after all.

July 30, 1885

April was fussy before but now she distresses me night and day and will not let me out of her sight. She cries and is fretful and nervous and won’t have anything to do with anyone but me. I can’t even get to the outhouse without her, she stands at the door outside and cries terribly and throws herself against the door again and again until I come out.

I keep telling myself to stop watching for Captain Elliot to ride over the hills, as there has been not one word of him since that terrible day. But all day I still watch.

Good old Bear is buried on the hill next to Jimmy. He was a fine dog. Albert said a dog doesn’t belong in a people graveyard, but it is my graveyard and my people and my dog, so I guess I can put them together.

Finally this evening Jack came back. He said Moses Smith’s real name was William Gunther and he was wanted for train robbery and murder and horse thieving in Bisbee. When the Bisbee Sheriff got him, they held a trial the next day and Moses Smith hung from a high gallows yesterday at noon. That is one hanging I think I would like to have seen. Seems if you have a stake in it, watching a hanging doesn’t seem as hard as I used to think.

I can’t help it but my heart beats fast when I see him coming over the hill. Jack Elliot is an ornery soldier, but there are so many times now that he has come between me and destruction of different sorts, that I feel close to him without even talking.

After supper he came to me and said, Let’s take a stroll under the trees, and he had a peculiar look around the eyes, almost like fear, although it is hard to say as I have never known him to be afraid of anything. We walked in the orchard this evening as it is cooler there, and he ate some peaches and declared he liked them, although I know they were too long on the tree. April would not go to him as she used to do so easily, but hid her face when he reached for her. He stopped me and looked real serious for a second, and said Are you well?

Sure, I said, I’m pretty sturdy. He just smiled and went back to talking.

He was talking about my ranch and saying things about cattle and horses and the different efforts it takes to run each, but I kept losing track of his words. I was studying his face and seeing the sun-squint lines around his eyes. There was a little nick of blood on his chin like he must have stopped to shave near the stream before riding up. His hat was in his hands and in the speckled light through the leaves, I saw there were some silver hairs in his brown hair. Finally, he was looking at me and I thought he must have asked me a question, and I wasn’t even listening.