Country Wishes

by RaeAnne Hadley

  “I don’t believe in spells and magic,” the man said.

  “It’s the Beaver moon tomorrow, so the magic will be even more potent.”

  “No more of this rubbish. I’m sick of hearing about it,” he growled.

  “Oh, honey. I do declare we are grouchy tonight.” The woman’s southern accent was in stark contrast to the man’s clipped, precise way of speaking.

  Adam finished his meal with a slice of apple pie and a coffee. He couldn’t remember when he last ate so well.

  Stepping outside, he strode over to the wishing well. It appeared somehow translucent as the moonbeams danced around it.

  If you look into the wishing well

  It will cast a magic spell

  Your dearest wish will come true

  This is all you have to do

  The childish voice from long ago washed over him like a serenade and not a chant.

  “It doesn’t work, Emmie. I wished we could be together all those years ago and it didn’t happen.”

  He stared into the black depths, tapped his finger on Emmie’s stone. “I’d like to know that you’re happy and well, Emmie,” he whispered. Feeling like a fool, he swung on his heel and headed back to the hotel.

  At 9 o’clock, the next morning, Adam strolled over to the office of Bryson Dodd, Attorney at Law. Tarnation, how could a man like him be an attorney? He was as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.

  He pushed the door open and stepped inside. A young woman sat behind a desk.

  “Good morning, Sir.”

  “Good morning, I’ve come to see Mr. Dodd. I’m Adam Petrie.”

  Her eyes widened. “You are?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “He’s expecting you, go straight in.” She pointed to a door to the left of the desk. If she was his guard dog, she wasn’t much of a one. He suppressed a grin.

  He didn’t knock on the door, just walked in. He wouldn’t give a man like Dodd such a courtesy.

  “Took your time about getting here.” Dodd held an unlit cheroot in his pudgy white hand.

  Adam nodded to the other two men who stood on either side of Dodd’s desk.

  “I got here as soon as I could. What’s the job?

  “To scare some sod busters off a tract of land I want.”

  “How many?” Adam asked.

  “A woman, a kid and….”

  “A crippled Johnny Reb,” one of the men snarled.

  “Surely you don’t need me to do that?”

  “I need an outsider to do it,” Dodd snapped. “Less chance of anyone knowing I’m behind it.”

  “You brought me all this way to remove people like that?” There was more to this than met the eye.

  “All right. I hired a surveyor. That ranch is a perfect spot for me, plenty of water. There’s an underground spring. They’ll never run out of water. I want it for my new goldmine. I need that place to house the workers I’m bringing in.”

  “You’re planning to bring in workers?” Adam couldn’t believe his ears.

  “I’ve arranged for a team of foreign workers.”

  “Foreign? I’m sure there’s plenty of men here who want jobs.”

  “They’ll cost too much. The foreign workers are cheap. They won’t be able to come into Hopeful to live. They’ll need to have their own town.” He chomped on his cheroot and Adam felt tempted to ram it down his throat.

  The man was crazy. Or was he?

  “Why don’t you just buy this woman’s place?”

  “She won’t sell. I bought or ran the other sod busters off, but this Jamieson woman won’t budge, no matter what I threaten her with. That’s why you’re here. To get her off that land.”

  “I don’t shoot women.”

  Dodd gave an evil smirk. “Shoot the place up a bit. She’s got a kid. Threaten to kill him. Whatever it takes.”

  Adam couldn’t believe he was hearing right. “I want the money up front then.”

  “Half now, half when the job is done.”

  That was the way he usually operated, but Dodd was different. He wouldn’t trust the man as far as he could kick him. He wanted more money in case he had to leave in a hurry after the job was done.

  “Seventy five now and the twenty five later.” They haggled for a while.

  “Oh, all right,” Dodd grudgingly agreed.

  Adam had a bad feeling about this job. A real bad feeling deep in his gut. I should get out now while I can. He feared it was already too late.

  “You could burn her out,” Dodd suddenly said.

  “What!”

  “If all else fails.” He snapped his fingers. “Light.”

  One of the men lit the cheroot and Dodd took a couple of puffs. Arrogant overweight sonofabitch, Adam thought. He pocketed the money, all the while he was angrier than a bag full of rattlesnakes for accepting the job. Greed warred with his feeling of trepidation, and greed won.

  He wouldn’t harm a woman and her kid, but she wasn’t to know that. Bluff could work as the name Adam Petrie installed fear in many.

  “Where is this place?”

  “About three miles out of town, on the other side of Red Bluff canyon. You can’t miss it.” Dodd blew a couple of smoke rings. “Only place left out there now. Do a good job here, Petrie and I’ll have plenty more work to give you.” He shoved out his hand and Adam grudgingly took it. He had a horrible feeling he had just made a pact with the Devil.

  The other men nodded, and he acknowledged them in the same way. As he left the room he heard one of them say. “Can we trust him?”

  “Of course we can,” Dodd said. “He’s a gun for hire, and if the money is good he’ll do anything.

  As he marched out into the street, Adam was tempted to swing around, go back inside and throw the money into Dodd’s face, note by note. He couldn’t do it, because it was true. He was a low down skunk. A man has to earn a living. Not like this the voice of reason inside his head had insisted.

  Glancing over to the wishing well made him feel even worse. What path would his life have taken had he not moved away from here? Maybe he would be married to Emmie and have a family, instead of being a drifter roaming from place to place, sometimes sleeping rough, picking up unsavory jobs no-one else wanted.

  After Reno and Sylvana died when he was about sixteen, he had lost touch with their daughters who had married and moved on to he didn’t know where. Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been like had he not been lost on the prairie. What kind of people were his parents? Did he have brothers or sisters?

  The sooner he left Hopeful the better, it was making him miserable, a state he didn’t like to be in.

  Chapter Three

  “Can I go fishing, Ma? Can I? Can I please?”

  “I don’t know, Addy. There’s been a few strangers poking around here lately.”

  “Let him go, sis.” Will gave a strained smile. “I promised to take him, but I just don’t feel up to it right now. He’s eight years old, you can’t keep him tied to your apron strings forever.”

  “All right. Promise me you won’t go past the bend in the creek.”

  Addy nodded his head.

  “It’s a good fishing spot,” his uncle said. “If you catch a couple of nice sized fish, your Ma could cook them for supper.”

  “Come with me, Uncle Will.”

  “Leave your uncle alone, he isn’t feeling well today.”

  “I’ll catch three,” Addy said excitedly. “One each for us.”

  How could she deprive her son of this little pleasure? He had few enough of them these days. “Take Dougie with you.” He wasn’t much of a guard dog, too old and lazy but he was devoted to Addy and he had a loud bark. The fishing hole was only a hundred yards away behind the trees, and if she left the front door open, she would hear Dougie’s bark if there was any trouble.

  She always kept a loaded rifle over the mantel, just in case, and she knew how to use it. Men had been surveying the land, she had seen then on a couple of occasions. Bryson
Dodd had sent his men over to try and buy the ranch. It wasn’t much of a place, still it was home. He was a swindler offering nothing more than crumbs, which wouldn’t buy them a place anywhere else.

  They couldn’t live in town because of Will. The war had not only taken her brother’s hand but also affected his nerves. Out here if he wanted to wander off when he had one of his ‘moods’ he could. In town the authorities would lock him up or shoot him down like some wild dog. She couldn’t let it happen. Addy and Will were all she had left now.

  That’s why I’ll fight to keep this place. She couldn’t understand why Dodd wanted it so badly. It wasn’t as if it were particularly fertile except near the creek. They could only run a hundred head of cattle and a few horses on it.

  Had Frank not died they might have made a reasonable living on it. She sighed wearily. What was the point of going all over this again? It wouldn’t do any good. In retrospect she probably shouldn’t have married Frank, but he had been Will’s friend and a good man, whose health had been broken by the war. Maybe those killed on the battlefield didn’t have it so bad after all.

  She stood on the front porch watching as Addy and Dougie dashed toward the creek. Will had made a box for them to leave their fishing lines in, as well as a knife for digging up worms and cleaning any fish they caught.

  Adam rode through the canyon. He could understand why it was called Red Bluff. The walls, denuded of any vegetation did have a reddish tinge. It was so narrow at the opening a large wagon would be hard pressed to pass through, but it widened out for a couple of hundred yards before becoming narrow again.

  It was a strange place and he didn’t like it. Foreboding rested like a rock in his stomach. What a perfect place for an ambush. He glanced around looking for any movement. Nothing seemed to be stirring. Phantom was a little on the skittish side as well, so it wasn’t just him.

  “What can you smell, boy? Seems you’ve got the same bad feeling about this place as me.” He watched an eagle soaring overhead, otherwise it was quiet. The place felt as if all the life had been sucked out of it. It was obvious mining in the area a few years ago had ruined it. That was the only explanation coming to mind.

  Large holes had been gouged in the rock, big enough for a man to hide in, although the overhang appeared ragged and broken off in places.

  He smelled smoke as the canyon turned sharply to the right. Riding out from under a huge overhang of rock he caught a glimpse of a trail of smoke wending its way skyward. He must be close to the widow Jamieson’s place now.

  A fence of rough cut posts and rails effectively blocked off the canyon preventing livestock from wandering away. There was a gate with a chain slipped over one of the posts, which he was able to bend down and remove without dismounting. A little further on a clump of trees almost blocked his path and as he rode around it he spied a cabin in the distance. The widow Jamieson’s abode no doubt.

  What a strange place it was. The fence across the canyon effectively cut it off from the outside. That’s why Dodd wanted it to gain access to the area. He could practically imprison his foreign workers out here, if he positioned a few guards. He was tempted to turn around and hightail it back to town but couldn’t. Dodd’s money now seemed to weigh his pocket down.

  Bushes lined the creek, with the odd tree or two. In a section where the trees grew more thickly he heard a sound. Someone was singing. His curiosity aroused, he rode toward it. Once he got closer he saw a boy with a fishing line, sitting on a rock jutting out over the water, a black dog lying next to him.

  “Howdy, pardner. Getting a bite?”

  The child spun around, almost dropping his line in the process, while the dog growled and edged nearer its master.

  “Howdy. I’m trying to catch some fish for lunch.”

  He wasn’t having much success by the disappointment clouding his blue eyes.

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Addy.”

  Adam dismounted.

  “Addy what?”

  “Addy Jamieson. What’s your name, Mister?”

  Adam grinned. “Adam.”

  “Adam what?”

  He ruffled the boy’s corn colored hair. “Petrie.”

  The name brought not a flicker of awareness, and he couldn’t explain why it pleased him that the boy didn’t know who or what he was. “Should you be down here alone?”

  “Ma wasn’t going to let me come, but Uncle Will said I could.”

  “Why didn’t your mother want you to come down here?”

  “Because of the bad men.”

  “Oh?”

  “They want our place. They might kill us. Dougie can look after me, though.” The dog growled on cue. “I can shoot a gun, Uncle Will teached me.”

  Adam was starting to feel like a low down polecat. The boy stared at him, his blue eyes trusting.

  “How about we go to the cabin, I need to speak with your Ma. The fish don’t look to be biting.”

  He waited silently while the boy placed the fishing line in a wooden box. “You really need a fishing rod, so you can cast your line out into the middle.”

  “Can you make me one, Mister?”

  “No.”

  “What’s your horse’s name?”

  “Phantom.”

  “I’ve never seen such a big grey horse, can I have a ride?”

  Adam shrugged. “I guess so.” He lifted the boy into the saddle.

  “My Pa was in the cava….”

  “Cavalry.”

  “Yes. He died when I was little.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Adam started to lead Phantom toward the cabin. A shot whistled over his head.

  “Stop right where you are,” a female voice rang out. “Or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

  A slightly built young woman pointed a rifle at him. “Addy, get down from the horse, you know you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers.”

  “I mean him no harm, Ma’am.” She sure was pretty. Her brown hair was shot with strands of copper. What he could see of it where it wasn’t pulled back was curly. There was something vaguely familiar about her. Had they met before?

  “Who are you, Mister, and what do you want?”

  The moment he lifted the boy down he dashed over to his mother. “Stand behind me, Addy and you’ll be safe.”

  Adam stifled a chuckle. A good puff of wind would blow this pretty woman over.

  “Take your guns off.”

  “Now look here, lady, I mean you no harm.”

  “You’re one of the gunslingers Dodd hired.”

  “Well, Ma’am.”

  “Don’t you Ma’am me.” She pointed the rifle at his chest.

  “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “How can I trust you if you work for Dodd?”

  “I didn’t say I worked for Dodd.”

  “But you do.”

  Her forthrightness surprised him. “I truly mean you no harm, I’ve just come to talk with you.”

  She lowered the rifle. Like the boy, she was too trusting. He was tempted to tell her so but clamped his lips shut.

  “That’s a fine looking horse you’re riding,” she said, catching him off guard. “You better come inside, but I don’t think I’m going to like what you say. I’m Emily Jamieson.”

  “Call me Adam.” He didn’t want to give her his surname in case she recognized it. How stupid was that? He wanted her to be frightened of him. It would be easier to get her to accept Dodd’s offer.

  “What’s your surname?”

  He hesitated.

  “Petrie,” Addy said.

  She faltered, and he wrestled the rifle out of her hands. Fear darkened her eyes as she stepped protectively in front of her son.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Dodd will.”

  “No, he won’t. Accept his offer and you can go buy a better place somewhere else.”

  “With a hundred dollars?”

  “A hundred dollars? He only offered you a hund
red dollars? Agree to leave and I’ll get more money out of him.” Lying polecat had said he’d offered her a fair price for the place.

  “Would you like a coffee, Mr. Petrie?”

  “Yes, thank you.” They stepped inside the cabin, directly into a kitchen eating room combined; a door on the left probably led to a bedroom and stairs led up to the loft.

  She pointed to a cowhide armchair. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you. This is a nice little cabin.”

  “We like it. How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black, strong, no sugar.”

  “Addy, go and tell Uncle Will I’m making coffee. If he’s asleep, don’t wake him up.”

  He shot out the back door.

  “My brother isn’t….um, well.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I made oatmeal cookies yesterday, would you like one?”

  He grinned. “Yes please, I’m very partial to oatmeal cookies.”

  She kept staring at him with puzzlement darkening her eyes.

  He kept staring at her, but not for the same reason. Her movements were quick yet graceful. The swell of her breasts could be seen against the material of her gown. She walked with a slight sway of her hips.

  He couldn’t believe he was thinking like this. Well, she was a pretty woman, and he was a hot blooded man who appreciated it. Nothing wrong with that. Was there? He was sure looking, although he definitely wasn’t going to touch.

  “He’s got two guns,” Addy said and Adam glanced up.

  A young man limped into the room. Instantly Adam’s eyes were drawn to the neatly folded back, empty sleeve. This man had been in the war. Only a man who had also fought in a war could recognize the trauma, suffering and despair buried in the eyes of one who had endured the horrors of battle.

  “I’m William Smith.” He put out the hand he had left and Adam shook it.

  This had to be the Johnny Reb the man in Dodd’s office had sneered about. Distaste fouled his mouth. He couldn’t drive these people off their land. He took the cup of coffee she offered him and a cookie. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  William eased himself into an armchair which had a board nailed on the right side to make a place where he could rest his coffee and cookie. Adam noticed it was his left hand and lower arm that was gone.