The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  “Shoan! You’ll never get away with this!” Parker shouted. “You hear me! I know who you are now, ‘n I’ll by God come after you myself!”

  Cade rode off in the direction of Nashville, taking the hood off as soon as he rounded the first bend. About two miles before he reached the small town of Burns Station, he dismounted, then slapped the horse on the rump.

  “Go home, boy,” he said. “I won’t be needing you anymore.”

  It wasn’t by accident that Cade had chosen Burns Station. The Nashville and North West railroad ran through the town, and just as he reached the depot, he saw a freight making up. Cade waited until he was certain that there were no railroad workers who might see him, then he climbed through the open door into a freight car.

  It was dark by the time the train started slowing down for Johnsonville. Cade jumped down from the train before it came to a stop, then walked the last quarter of mile into town. There had been a battle fought here between Nathan Bedford Forrest and the Federal forces who had occupied this town on the Tennessee River. The engagement was fought only a few weeks before the battle at Franklin, and though Cade had not been a part of it, he was well aware of it, for it had been a great victory for General Forrest.

  Cade walked down to the water and saw that a riverboat was tied up at the dock. The boat, a side-wheeler, was a ‘local trader’, of the type that worked the Tennessee River. It was about half the size of the boats that plied the Ohio and Mississippi. A sign, on the front of the pilot house, identified the boat as the Ruth Ann.

  While on the train, Cade had thrown both pistols away, and, except for a single, twenty dollar bill, he had rolled the three packets of bills up into his long handle underwear, and stuffed it down into his rucksack. Now, with the rucksack on his back, he walked down to the boat. There was someone on the main deck, leaning forward with his arms resting on the railing.

  “Is the Captain aboard?” Cade asked.

  “Yeah, he’s aboard.”

  “Could I come speak with ‘im?”

  The man lifted his hand as if telling Cade to wait, then he left, and a moment later returned with another man.

  “I’m Captain Hayes,” the man said.

  “Captain, I need to go to Paducah, and I was hoping I could work my way there.”

  The captain shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve got a full complement now, no need for another. I can take you on as a paying passenger.”

  “I don’t have much money. What is the very cheapest fare you have?”

  “You can buy deck passage for two dollars,” Captain Hayes said. “That means that, rain or shine, you’ll be on the deck for the two days it’ll take us to get there.”

  “What about food?” Cade asked. “I wouldn’t want to go two days without food.”

  “You’ll eat with the deckhands,” Captain Hayes said.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “How’d you get that scar on your forehead?”

  “I got it during the war.”

  Captain Hayes nodded. “Glad to hear you didn’t get it in a fight. I don’t want trouble on my boat. All right, come aboard. There are some sacks on the afterdeck. You can bed down on a couple of them for tonight, and settle with the purser tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  At mid-morning the next day the boat was well underway, and Cade was leaning on the railing, just as he had seen the deckhand doing the night before. He was standing behind the starboard side wheel, and he could see the frothing water that was agitated by the beating of the paddles.

  Reaching down into his pocket Cade pulled out the little lock of Melinda’s hair, the same lock that had sustained him during the hellish days as a prisoner of war at Camp Douglas. He held the blond strands for just a moment, letting the bittersweet memories play through his mind, then he dropped it into the water. For a long second it rode atop one of the ripples of the paddle wake, extending the connection between Cade and Melinda, then it was sucked down into the swirling eddies, and he didn’t see it again.

  In Paducah, Cade, as he had on the Ruth Ann, bought deck passage on the boat The Buckeye. Just over a week after leaving the farm, Cade was in Memphis, in the office of Carleton River Transportation, standing before the desk of a rather small, bald-headed man wearing wire rim glasses which made his eyes look larger than they were.

  No longer passing himself off as someone on the edge of abject depravation, he was now wearing new clothes, and carrying a leather satchel.

  “Yes, sir, may I help you?” the greeter asked.

  “I would like to speak with Jed Carleton.”

  “And may I tell Mr. Carleton who is asking for him?”

  “Yes, my name is Cade McCall.”

  “Wait here, Mr. McCall,” the man said.

  A moment later Jed came rushing through the door toward Cade, moving even ahead of the greeter. He had a big smile on his face.

  “Cade, you old son of a gun! Damn, I’m glad to see you!” he said, as he extended his hand.

  “Hello, Jed,” Cade replied, matching his friend’s enthusiastic greeting.

  “What brings you to Memphis?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Well, good! I want you to meet my father,” Jed said. “I’ve told him all about you.”

  Embrey Carleton stood when Jed introduced Cade. Cade could see where Jed got his size, because Embrey was a big man, though age had caused flesh to replace the muscle he once had. Years had also turned his hair, and full beard white.

  “Mr. McCall, may I tell you what a pleasure it is for me to meet the man who kept my son sane? How anyone survived that hell hole is beyond me.”

  “We leaned on one another,” Cade replied.

  “Then I’m glad you were there for each other,” Embrey said.

  “Mr. Carleton, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “All right.” The reply was somewhat nebulous, as if Embrey wasn’t prepared to make a full commitment, without knowing the request.

  “I have a rather large sum of money I would like to send back home, but of course, I don’t want to send cash. Would it be possible for me to give you the money, and have you send a bank draft on your account to my brother?” Cade asked.

  “I see no problem with that,” Embrey replied.

  Cade took out two bound packets of twenty dollars bills, counted out 175 of them, then passed them across the desk. Embrey picked them up.

  “Who should I make this payable to?”

  “Adam McCall.”

  “I’ll have Mr. Reardon take care of this for us, it’ll take a while,” he said.

  “Hey, Cade, what do you say you and I go eat while we’re waiting on the draft?” Jed suggested. “I think we can beat the crumb hole.”

  “The crumb hole?” Embrey asked.

  Both Cade and Jed laughed.

  “It’s a place where we used to go to eat,” Jed said, without further explanation.

  Half an hour later, the two men were at the River Café at the foot of Beale Street. It had been a while since Cade had really enjoyed a meal, and he stuffed himself with catfish, fried potatoes, hush puppies, sliced tomatoes, and dill pickles.

  “Tell me, Cade, did you ever think we would actually be able to laugh about the crumb hole?” Jed asked.

  “I never did, but I have to say that it feels good to laugh about it now.”

  “Listen, you didn’t bring your two pet lice, Alice and Jimmy with you, did you?” Jed asked.

  “You know, I was never able to get them house-broken, so I had to leave them behind.

  “It’s just as well.”

  They were quiet for a moment longer. “What brings you to Memphis by yourself?” Jed asked. “I thought, for sure, you would have Melinda with you. Remember, I promised you all a trip to New Orleans, first class, on one of our boats.”

  Cade was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. “They thought I was dead.”

  “What?”

  “They thought I was dead,” Cade repeate
d, and even as he was speaking the words, he realized that he was only mimicking his brother. “It turns out that I’m buried at Carnton Plantation. Or at least someone is buried there, under a marker that has my name. My father, Adam . . . Melinda . . . they all thought I was dead.”

  “Oh Lord,” Jed said, understanding now. “Melinda married Adam, didn’t she?”

  “And now she’s going to have his baby.”

  “That can’t have been a very good homecoming for you.”

  “It was . . . uncomfortable. I had to leave.”

  There was another pregnant pause before Jed broke the silence. “The thirty-five hundred dollars?”

  Cade looked up quickly. “What about it?” he asked, his voice almost a challenge.

  “That’s a lot of money. Where . . .”

  “Let’s just say I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

  For the remainder of the meal the two spoke of shared experiences, not only in the prison, but during the time before.

  “You remember Lieutenant Nox? How he always managed to be at the rear, ‘hurrying up the stragglers?’” Jed asked with a laugh.

  “And how Private Olsen use to call out, ‘mama, mama, mama!’ during a battle?” Cade added.

  They shared other stories for the remainder of the meal, then they started back to the office, which was but one block south.

  “Do you need any money, Cade?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “All right, if I can’t give you money, I’d like to offer you another opportunity.”

  “What is that?”

  “It might be good for you to get away from Tennessee. I mean, given the situation with Melinda and your brother.”

  “That’s probably a pretty good idea.”

  “We have a boat leaving for New Orleans tomorrow morning. When we go back to the office to pick up the bank draft, I’ll arrange for first class passage for you on the MARY KATE.”

  Cade smiled. “Thanks, Jed. I’ll just take you up on that.”

  The McCall Farm:

  Melinda saw Julius Decker coming back from town, where he had gone for supplies, and to pick up the mail. She stepped outside just as he rode his mule, Rhoda, up to the porch.

  “Hello, Mr. Decker,” she said. “Were you able to get everything?”

  “Yes’m I got it all,” Julius replied. “’N I also got this letter which don’ look nothin’ like none of the letters you ‘n Mr. Adams most of the time gets.” He handed the envelope to her and, as he said, it was different in appearance. The envelope was pre-printed with the return address of Carleton River Transportation, 45 Gayoso Avenue, Memphis Tennessee. There was also a woodcut representation of a riverboat. It was addressed to Adam.

  “Effie in the field, is she?” Julius asked.

  “Yes, she’s chopping cotton with Adam.”

  “I expect I’ll go out there too, soon as I get these things put away,” Julius said, taking down the burlap bag that was hanging from the saddle horn.

  “Thank you, Mr. Decker.”

  Melinda thought about opening the envelope, then decided against it. It was, after all, addressed to Adam. She was going to wait until he came in, but curiosity got the best of her, so, with envelope in hand, she headed toward the south forty.

  Adam looked up and smiled at her as she approached. He leaned on the hoe, then took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Julius picked this up from the post office,” Melinda said, handing the envelope to Adam.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, it’s addressed to you, and I’m too curious to wait to see what it is.”

  “All right,” Adam said. “We’ll see together.”

  Adam removed the contents from the envelope, read them, then pulled everything to his chest and looked at Melinda with a shocked expression on his face.

  “My God,” Adam said.

  “Adam, what is it? You are frightening me!”

  Adam handed the papers over to Melinda.

  “Look at this,” he said. “Look, Melinda!”

  Dear Adam,

  You probably won’t hear from me for a while, I feel the need to travel for a bit. Here is bank draft for $3,500. I got very generous terms for the loan, which I will be able to handle myself, so there is no need for you to pay it back. This is my wedding gift for you and Melinda.

  Sincerely, Your brother

  Cade

  9

  CADE COULD NOT IMAGINE any contrast more extreme than his arrival in Memphis as a deck passenger on a cargo boat, and his departure from Memphis as an occupant of first class quarters on the Mary Kate. The most dominating feature of the room was a big, brass-frame bed, though the room was so large that it wasn’t overpowered by that piece of furniture. In addition to the bed, there was a sofa, a dresser, and a chifferobe.

  Part of the enjoyment was the marvelous meals that were served. For the first time in his life, he ate loin of lamb, with mint sauce.

  The next morning he walked out onto the forward section of the hurricane deck just before sunrise. At this hour, there was nobody else on deck, and he felt a haunting sense of loneliness, isolation, and remoteness from the rest of the world. Except for the breeze created by the boat’s passage, there was not the faintest breath of wind.

  He could hear a solitary bird, singing to the morning. Other birds joined in, and soon the pipings developed into a jubilant riot of music. As the day grew brighter, Cade enjoyed the intense green of the foliage that crowded down from each side of the river. Then, with the sun well up, the river came alive as a path of shimmering gold.

  Cade looked at the river as it lay before him.

  “I wonder,” he said speaking aloud, confident that no one would be able to hear him, “if I could travel fast enough, far enough, could I look into the future and see what lies ahead?”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “Nor would I want to.”

  He thought back to his time during the war, and in the Camp Douglas prison. He was convinced that it was thoughts of Melinda that had gotten him through that ordeal. What if he had known then, what he knew now, that she wouldn’t be there? It would have been infinitely harder for him.

  “It was certainly a pleasure having you aboard, Mr. McCall,” the captain said as Cade left the boat in New Orleans late in the afternoon of the day they arrived. “I hope your trip was a pleasant one.”

  “It has been a most enjoyable experience, Captain. I can’t think of a thing that would have made it better.”

  Leaving the boat, Cade walked up Decatur Street, which ran parallel to the river basin, where he saw a forest of masts, free of sail. As he passed each of the ships, he read the names: Harriet Lane, Bayou City, Westfield, Rob Roy, Fremad, and the Dart.

  The display of so many ocean-going ships was interesting, because he had never seen such a thing before. But he was more interested in exploring New Orleans. He had fourteen hundred and twenty-seven dollars in the satchel he was carrying, and forty-three dollars in his pocket, which, he was certain, would be enough to enjoy himself.

  New Orleans assailed every sense. He heard a cacophony of sound from the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves striking the stone paving blocks, music emanating from the bars; pianos mostly, but from at least one, the mellow wail of a saxophone. He heard, also, a mixture of languages being spoken, with English and French predominating.

  New Orleans was a visual treat as well, with grand public buildings alongside elegant manors and narrow townhouses. The most noticeable structures were the two story buildings with hipped roofs and expansive balconies, enclosed by wrought-iron railings.

  Cade started to walk by a building that bore a sign identifying it as Tujague’s. The name meant nothing to him, but the smell coming from within made his stomach rumble in anticipation. It was nearly suppertime, and Tujague’s was obviously a restaurant.

  Realizing that he was hungry, and intrigued by the unfamiliar,
but enticing aromas, he stepped inside. The restaurant was filled with what appeared to be workingmen; merchants, laborers, as well as sailors and boatmen from the docks. After he was seated, he was approached by a waiter.

  “Today we are serving shrimp remolade, crawfish etouffee, boiled beef brisket, or andouille with red beans and rice.”

  “You are serving all that? I’m hungry, but I don’t think I could eat that much.”

  “You don’t get them all, you choose one of the four.”

  “The only two things I recognize are beef, beans and rice. I’ve eaten beef, but I’ve never eaten shrimp. I think I would like to try that.”

  “All right.”

  In no time at all, it seemed, the waiter returned with a plate, which he set in front of Cade. He had never actually seen shrimp before, and his first impression of them was that they looked like large bugs. He stared at them for a moment, unsure as to what to do.

  “Dip them into the remolade,” the waiter suggested.

  “The what?”

  The waiter pointed to a cup that was filled with a thick sauce, mostly white, but liberally dotted with seasoning.

  Cade picked up one of the shrimp and holding it by the tail, started to dip it into the sauce.

  “You must remove the shell first,” the waiter explained.

  Cade nodded, peeled the shrimp, dipped it, then, hesitantly took a bite. Immediately, his mouth was assailed by a very spicy flavor. It was good, and he smiled broadly as, continuing to chew, he looked up at the waiter.

  “Bon appetit,” the waiter said as he withdrew.

  After leaving the restaurant, Cade continued his exploration of the city, and on the corner of St. Phillip and Bourbon Street he saw a relatively small brick building with a steep shingled roof and dormers. The sign read “Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar.”

  Curious about the strange name, he stepped inside and saw that it was, indeed a bar. Virtually all the bar’s clientele were sailing men.

  “Bienvenue Monsieur,” a very attractive, petite young woman with dark hair and flashing black eyes greeted him. “Mon nom est Chantal.” When she saw that he didn’t understand, she repeated it in English. “Welcome, Monsieur. My name is Chantal.”