Reno's Journey: Cowboy Craze (The Wild West)

by Sable Hunter

  “Pollution. Insecticides. Habitat encroachment. Man hasn’t been kind to nature.” She pointed at the small black bird with the yellow on his face. “That bird is endangered. If measures aren’t taken, his species will go extinct.”

  He gave her a somewhat vacant stare. “Well, do something. I know that’s happened with some species like the dodo, but this time is so advanced. How could they let this happen?”

  “They? Who is they? Greedy people? Fortunately, some action is being take.” She nodded to the branch where the little bird had lit before it flew away. “He is luckier than some. A whole preserve has been set aside to protect their nesting ground.”

  “Well, good.” He eyed the chocolate cake. “So, you made this cake?”

  “I did.”

  “The chicken salad was excellent, and this looks even better.”

  “It’s very, very rich. Don’t let the small size of the piece fool you.”

  “Okay.” He gave her sly look. “I thought you were just being a bit chintzy.”

  “Chintzy?” She tossed a paper towel at him. “You’re being a toot!”

  “Me?” He asked with all innocence, then chuckled. “That’s why we’re here, to find out these things about ourselves. Both good and bad. So, now you know I can be a toot.”

  She gave an exaggerated sigh. “And to think…I always assumed you to be without fault.”

  “I don’t want to be on a pedestal, love.” He leaned forward to whisper. “I’d much rather be in your bed doing raunchy things with you.” When he saw the lovelight shining in her eyes, he cut a bite of the cake and lifted the fork to her lips. “Here, be sweet. Eat this.”

  She complied as he took a bite for himself – and groaned. “God, this is good. And rich. I take back the chintzy part.”

  “Good.” While she drank her wine, Journey leaned back on one arm to let the breeze filter through her hair. “This is nice.”

  “It is.” He pushed the food aside and lay down to place his head in her lap. “I’ve never been more content. You make me feel peaceful. Happy.”

  She stroked his hair, gazing at his beloved face. “I feel the same way. Complete.”

  “That’s right.” He agreed. “I feel that too.” After a little while, he looked up into her face. “When we get home, I want you to take the test for me. I want to know if you’re pregnant.”

  “All right.” Journey felt a bit of unease edge through her middle. Before she could call them back, she blurted out a question she’d never intended to ask. “Is it going to make a difference?”

  Reno sat up, trying to hear what she wasn’t saying. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but to answer the question you asked – yes, yes it will make a difference.”

  “It will?”

  Taking her hand, he looked into her eyes. “I want to know so I can rejoice in the knowledge that my child exists. I want to know so I can pamper the mother of my child – above and beyond what pampering I intend to give you already. I want to know so I can begin to prepare myself to be the best father I could possibly be.”

  “Okay. Okay. I get it.”

  Her admission came before he’d said everything he had to say. “Wait. I’m not finished, Journey. What this knowledge will not affect is that I can’t possibly adore you more than I already do. It also doesn’t change the fact that our courtship, in my estimation…” He gave her a teasing grin. “Has been an unmitigated success.”

  She cast her gaze down, seeming to be a bit embarrassed. “You knew I got a little vexed?”

  “Yes.” He put a finger under her chin to lift her face high enough for him to look into her eyes. “Not a moment of our time together has been wasted. I have greedily noted every little thing about you. I have memorized your beautiful face.” Reno kissed her lips gently. “The image of your heavenly body is enshrined in my heart forever. And I’ve mentally catalogued every facet of your personality. Every like. Every dislike. Every mood. Every hope. Every dream. And every desire.”

  By the time his eloquent speech was finished, all of Journey’s doubts were completely banished. “During our time together, I have learned to trust my judgement. You are everything I ever dreamed of – and more.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  When they returned to the ranch, any thought of the pregnancy test flew from their minds. There were two more cars in the driveway than when they left. “Well, our solitude is over, Reno. Lou and Aunt Myra are both here.”

  They’d just entered through the garden gate when Lou’s voice met their ears. “They’re here, Myra! You can tell the police they’re fine.”

  Journey frowned at her friend. “The police?”

  Lou shrugged both shoulders as she gave them both a hug. “Myra was worried. She called the Fredericksburg police to make sure those men who attacked you were still behind bars.”

  “Are they?” Journey asked as she stepped ahead of them to open the kitchen door.

  “Yes. They’re in county lock-up. Oh, and the detective said he sent you a form to fill out via email.”

  “Okay, I’ll look for it.” Journey made a mental note.

  “So, where have you been?” Lou asked as she went to stand by the dining table where her laptop lay with its lid raised and the charge light blinking.

  Reno held up the wicker basket. “We went on a picnic. What did you find out?”

  She held his gaze for a couple of moments. “Quite a bit.”

  Reno waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. About that time, Myra could be heard entering the room with the dogs at her heels.

  Journey watched as she came fully into the kitchen, her eyes firmly glued on Reno. “For all that’s holy…” she mumbled, moving closer. “I wanted to believe my great niece, even if I couldn’t really imagine what she was telling me could possibly be true.” Her eyes moved from his cowboy boots to the top of his head. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

  Reno didn’t flinch at the close examination. “Yes, ma’am. It’s me. Reno Black. Quartermaster Sergeant, Cumberland Guard, Eastern Unit of the 9th Cavalry from the state of Tennessee. Half Cherokee and an adequate ranch hand. Born May 3rd, 1843. Vanished April 19th, 1869.”

  The way he identified himself sent chills all over Journey. “It’s him, Aunt Myra. Our Reno.”

  The older woman surveyed him with a solemn expression until her countenance softened into a smile of welcome and she wrapped her arms around him. “If you’re an actor, you’re a damn good one. And a helluva looker too.”

  Journey shook her head. “Aunt Myra, you’re incorrigible.”

  She waved her hand. “No, I’m convinced. What he told me about the Bixby letter sealed the deal. Myles said there was no way anyone living could’ve known those details. That secret has been passed down and protected from generation to generation.” She patted Reno on the shoulder. “I told him the truth about you. Don’t worry, he won’t tell a soul. He would’ve come with me to see you for himself, if he’d been able. He did send a list of questions for me to ask you. He said he wants the answers pronto, he’s afraid he’ll die before he gets them.”

  “I’ll answer anything he wants to know. Gladly.” Reno took the picnic basket to the counter and began to unpack the leftovers.

  Myra noticed what he was doing and elbowed Journey. “You didn’t tell me he was housebroken.”

  At her odd comment, Lou and Journey both giggled. Reno gave all three women a narrowed, suspicious gaze. “I’m not certain a man should be housebroken.”

  “No, it’s a good thing. As long as you’re good in bed.” Myra picked up one of the bottles of wine and poured herself a glass. “Join me, Lou?”

  “Yes ma’am.” A stunned Lou came forward to accept a drink.

  Journey hid her eyes and shook her head. Reno didn’t make a comment either. However, he couldn’t hide his amused smile.

  “Mr. Weiss was housebroken.” Myra smiled as she filled a glass to hand it to the lady scientist. “He wasn’t shabby in other dep
artments either.”

  As the other three stood waiting for the awkwardness to pass, Myra snapped her fingers. “Almost forgot.” She went over to rummage in her oversize bag. After peering into the unfathomable depths, she pulled out a yellow envelope. “Myles sent this to the two of you, something he thinks you’ll want to see.”

  “What is it?” Journey asked, coming forward to accept whatever Myra held in her hand.

  “I’m not sure. He said that he apologized if sending you this was in poor taste, but he hoped it might help. Truthfully, I think this whole thing pulled him back from the brink. When I left, he was sorting through a whole pile of stuff, said he planned to have it all scanned and uploaded…whatever that means. In the past, he always kept these documents in a fireproof vault. I always thought that was an extravagance for a pile of old papers and pictures, but now that I know the value of the Bixby letter, I understand.”

  Moving to stand by Reno, Journey began to tear the envelope open. Lou watched from the bar, her face an unreadable mask.

  “Oh, God. Reno!” Journey couldn’t believe what she was seeing. In her hand she held an albumen-coated, card mounted photograph.

  Reno leaned in closer, realized what he was looking at, then pulled it from Journey’s grasp. “Give me that.”

  “What’s wrong?” Lou asked, recognizing the look of upset on her friend’s face.

  Journey couldn’t speak. She’d turned white as a sheet.

  Reno handed the photo to Lou as Myra crowded in to see what was causing her great niece such distress.

  What they discovered was a cabinet card depicting a grave next to a stone strewn path. The headstone was engraved with a name and two dates.

  RENO BLACK

  1843 – 1869

  Journey doubled over, pain shooting through her like arrows.

  Placing his arm around her, Reno gathered her close. “It’s okay, honey. I’m still here.”

  “You can’t go back,” she gasped. “Something bad is going to happen.”

  “Knowing my friends, they probably put this up as a memorial for me. Doesn’t mean I’m buried there.” He looked to Lou for support. “I’m not dead. I’m here.”

  “But what does it mean?” Journey searched his face.

  Myra put an arm around Journey. “Don’t get upset. This may mean Reno decides to stay here with us.”

  Lou said nothing, which was unusual for Lou.

  “Come with me.” Reno took Journey by the arm. “Let’s put this away and think about something else for a few minutes.”

  “Right.” Myra watched them with concern. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

  “We won’t be long,” Journey assured her aunt. “I just need a minute.”

  Lou moved in behind them. “We need to talk.”

  “Of course,” Reno assured her. “I’m sure we have a lot to go over.”

  Lou nodded. “We certainly do. I’ll be waiting.”

  Out of the others’ sight, Journey leaned against her bedroom wall. “Why would anyone take a photo of that and save it?”

  Reno struggled to find something to say. “Maybe they were proud to have done something considerate and wanted to preserve a memory.” Talking about his own grave made him feel as if he were outside of himself. “Since taking photographs has become more commonplace, people seem to take pictures of everything. Even dead relatives. They dress them up in their best, sit them in a chair…”

  “Reno! Please!” Journey admonished him. “You’re not helping.”

  “Sorry.” He smiled and she gave in to a nervous laugh.

  “It’s okay.” She wiped her eyes. “It was just a shock – seeing that headstone with your name on it.”

  “I know.” He took her by the hand and nodded toward the bathroom. “Go pee on that stick and tell me if we’re having a baby.”

  “Now?” She let him pull her along.

  “I want to know.”

  Moving into the small room, she found the test still in the bag lying on the vanity. Glancing up, she caught Reno’s gaze in the mirror. His large frame filled the doorway. “I’d rather not have an audience.”

  He held up his hands. “All right. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  Alone, she couldn’t bring herself to look at her reflection. She felt vulnerable and exposed. Raw. After opening the box, she pulled out the testing stick and laid it on the edge of the bathtub. Once she was on the toilet, she held the stick and waited.

  “What’s going on?”

  She took in a breath, holding it a second before exhaling. “I’m nervous. I can’t pee.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Talk about something else.”

  “Your great-aunt looks just like Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote.”

  “You’ve been watching too much TV. Who does Lou look like?”

  “Veronica Mars.”

  Journey giggled. “How about me?”

  “Oh, there’s no one who comes even…”

  “Reno! Pick someone.”

  “Buff the Vampire Slayer.”

  “Oh, Lord, you’re reaching now. And it’s Buffy, not Buff.” She closed her eyes to concentrate. Eventually, her patience was rewarded, and she held the stick in the small stream with a shaking hand. “There. Done.”

  Reno opened the door. “What does it say?”

  “Nothing, yet.” She adjusted her clothing and washed her hands. “It takes a few minutes, but it should show a plus sign for yes and a minus sign for no.”

  He came into the bathroom and they sat down on the side of the tub together. “Did you look at the back of that picture? There might be a date the photo was made. I still bet they put that headstone up when they figured out I wasn’t coming back.”

  “What do you mean? You’re planning on going back. Unless…” She let her voice trail off. “This is confusing.”

  “I know it is. Let’s just continue with our plan and not worry about that stupid picture.”

  “I’ll try.” Journey just couldn’t get over seeing his name on the headstone. For years, she’d known he was beyond her reach – but now, he wasn’t. She slipped her hand through his arm, laying her head on his shoulder. “Just let me hold onto you for a second.”

  They sat still, leaning on one another until the requisite minutes for the test results had passed. “Shall I look?” he asked.

  “No, I will.”

  Reno watched as Journey stood and approached the testing stick slowly, as if she feared it might reach out to bite her. Love for her welled up in his heart. What he wouldn’t give for things to be normal for them. Just two people in love. Ready to build a life together. Instead, they straddled two worlds and he didn’t seem to have a firm footing in either one of them. Holding his breath – he waited.

  Once Journey was close enough to see the readout, she stared at it for a moment as if she couldn’t discern what she was seeing. Finally, the words came… “It’s negative. I’m not pregnant.”

  Reno felt a rush of air escape his lungs. “Oh.” He didn’t know what he felt.

  Relieved. No. Disappointed. Yes.

  Considering the uncertainty of their situation – was this for the best? Maybe.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” He stood to take her in his arms. “This isn’t our only chance, you know. Once we get settled, we’ll toss those little rubbers in the trash.

  “I know.” She laid her head on his broad, warm chest. “I’m okay.” She wasn’t. Journey felt devastated.

  “Well, come on. I smell coffee.”

  He led her back to the living room where they found Lou sitting all alone. “Where’s Aunt Myra?” Journey asked, looking all around the room and into the living area.

  “She told me to tell you that she was driving into Fredericksburg to buy groceries. She’s been eaten out of house and home.”

  “Where are the dogs?” Reno asked, noting the house was unusually quiet.

  Lou thumped her fingers on the table in a rhythmic, nervo
us gesture. “Myra took them to the groomers. She said they needed a bath.”

  “Okay.” Journey went to the coffee pot. “Do you want a cup, Reno?”

  “Oh, yea. I need one.” He came up behind her and started putting sugar into a mug. “How about you, Lou?”

  “I’m good. Could we talk now?”

  Reno sensed something was wrong. “You weren’t gone as long as we expected. Was everything all right?”

  “Yes and no.” She pulled her phone and a notepad from her purse. “I learned a lot. I had a good conversation with Dr. Sculler. The research they’re doing is incredible. They’ve had a lot of success, several major breakthroughs. We exchanged a lot of ideas, shared some stories.” Her voice grew weaker as she spoke.

  Journey stirred her coffee and glared at her friend. “You just talked and talked – but you didn’t say a damn thing. What aren’t you saying?”

  Lou rubbed her forehead, wearily. “I gave him a vague idea of what we’re doing and I’m afraid he believed my commitment, but he doubted your story.”

  This made Reno bristle, but he said nothing.

  Journey was a bit more vocal, however. “How could he say that? He doesn’t know us.”

  Reno couldn’t help but smile at the ‘us’ reference. “No, he doesn’t know us, Journey. But even I have to admit this is a fantastic tale. I’m not sure I would’ve believed it myself if I hadn’t lived through it.”

  “To be honest, I expected him to be more open-minded,” Lou confessed. “I fear he’s too used to dealing in the abstract to comprehend your situation.”

  Reno thought some more, standing up to walk across the room and back. “But – you do know there are others. All those stories you told me. And there’s more. Right? You’ve been researching this for a while. People go missing. They vanish all the time you said.”

  Lou chose her words carefully. “Yes, they do. Just take Alaska, for example. Since 1988, 60000 people have gone missing. There are only 730,000 residents in the whole state, and yet, they lost 60,000 people in just decades. Two thousand people a year, on average, vanish there. That’s not to say that some don’t meet up with the wrong bear or step on a thin sheet of ice – but a percentage of those are never found and no one knows what happened to them.”