Desert Fire

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Desert Fire Page 14

by Marcia Lynn McClure


  “I better get back,” Brynn choked out anxiously. This man was truly unsettling. Retreat was the only alternative. “My mother will be in to pick this up as soon as she can, Mrs. Johnson,” she assured the woman.

  “Now, don’t rush off on account of me, Miss Brynn. You and Mrs. Johnson go on about yer girl talk. Thank you, Mrs. Johnson,” he said. “Our little secret?” he added with a wink.

  “Yes, boy,” Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “Now get.”

  “And what a pleasure to meet you, Miss Brynn,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll bump into each other now and then.” Then he turned and left the store.

  Mrs. Johnson dropped her voice to a whisper when he’d gone. “He’s a fine young man, isn’t he? Handsome, too. He’s his daddy over and over except for them blue eyes. He gets them from his mama. Young Michael McCall’s a might more pleasin’ to look at than a mud fence, ain’t he?”

  Brynn was unable to deny that he was truly a dream, so she nodded, blushing.

  “I knew his grandma, Maggie McCall, real well. Real well. She died a few years back, but his mama and daddy, Jackson and Malaina McCall, live on the main farm. He has two uncles with families that live on their own properties. There’s Baker and Charlotte McCall...they’ve got six kids. Matthew and Mary McCall and they have five. Michael’s got a brother and two sisters. I bet young Annie is about yer age. She’s sixteen, I think. You can’t dodge the McCall clan ‘round here no matter how hard you try.”

  Brynn nodded and whispered, “He’s very polite. Charming, actually.”

  Mrs. Johnson smiled. “He took right to you, didn’t he?”

  Brynn shook her head and sighed discouragedly. “I’m not the kind of girl he’d look twice at, Mrs. Johnson,” she whispered.

  “Well, sugar,” the woman chuckled in a whisper. “He looked more’n twice just while you were standin’ here a showin’ me this cloth.”

  Brynn smiled. “Well…I better get back! Now, you’ll save this cloth until Mother can come in, won’t you, Mrs. Johnson?”

  “Of course, Brynn. Of course.”

  ❦

  The day seemed to have brightened considerably since Brynn first left the house. As she walked home from Mrs. Johnson’s store along the dusty street she didn’t even mind the dry smell of soil as it filled her lungs. Something was beginning to whisper to her that perhaps living in the small western community wouldn’t be so terrible. Hadn’t he said that the place was simply “crawlin’“ with McCalls? That in itself gave her hope. Of course, she didn’t really care about any other McCalls. One, the one she had met, was more than enough.

  “Mother!” Brynn called as she entered the house through the kitchen door. “Mother! I’ve something to tell you.”

  “In here, darling. Come quickly. We have our first visitors,” Ophelia called from the parlor.

  Brynn walked quickly to greet her mother but stopped abruptly when she saw her mother sat in the company of three women. One woman was undoubtedly a very unique beauty. The dark haired, blue eyed woman rivaled her own mother’s loveliness. There was also a lovely blonde woman and next to her sat another dark haired woman who resembled somewhat the first one.

  “This is my eldest daughter, Brynn,” Ophelia said, motioning for Brynn to greet the women.

  “Hello. How do you do?” Brynn greeted forcing a smile.

  The three women nodded and returned sincere, hellos.

  “Brynn, these lovely ladies have come to welcome us to town. This is Charlotte McCall.”

  The second dark haired woman extended a tiny, gloved hand to Brynn. Brynn took her hand for a moment, smiling.

  “And this is her sister-in-law, Mary McCall,” Ophelia said as she indicated the blonde woman.

  “Hello,” Brynn said taking the second woman’s hand.

  “And this is Malaina McCall. She’s Mary’s sister-in-law and Charlotte’s sister and sister-in-law! Oh, it’s all so confusing ladies! However do you keep track of everyone?” Ophelia chimed.

  “Hello, Brynn,” Malaina McCall greeted taking Brynn’s hand.

  Brynn could only smile for the realization was washing over her that this was the mother of the handsome vision she had only just met. As she looked into the woman’s beautiful blue eyes, she recognized their similarity to her son’s.

  “You’re lovely, my dear,” Malaina commented. Then looking from Brynn to her mother and back her smile widened and she added, “The image of your mother.”

  “Actually, she looks a great deal like her father,” Ophelia added.

  “I’m so very pleased to meet you, Mrs. McCall,” Brynn breathed, awestruck by the woman before her and what she represented. “I’ve only just come from Mrs. Johnson’s store where I met your son, I believe.”

  “Which one, dear?” Malaina asked.

  “Michael,” Brynn answered.

  Malaina giggled and Brynn found it delightfully intriguing that such a graceful woman would have such girlish laughter.

  “Oh, yes! My Michael. He’s been into the general store, has he?” she asked. “Was he appropriately dressed or not, my dear?”

  Brynn thought it an odd question. “Well, he...he...”

  Charlotte spoke then. “He bought a new shirt, I’ve no doubt.”

  “Why, yes,” Brynn exclaimed, astonished.

  “And some liniment to boot, I reckon,” Mary added.

  “Yes. Yes he did,” Brynn confirmed.

  Malaina turned once more to Ophelia. “Let me explain, Ophelia. My charming son takes after his father. They break horses as part of their labors and I’ve no doubt that Michael has soiled, if not utterly destroyed, yet another shirt in the process. He thinks I’m innocent to the fact that he spends part of his earnings almost weekly on new shirts, attempting to hide the fact that he’s been roughed up by some wild stallion that he’s determined to break.”

  “Michael’s very handsome, isn’t he?” Mary inquired of Brynn unexpectedly.

  “Well...well...” Brynn stammered.

  “Of course he’s handsome,” Malaina answered for her. “He takes after his daddy.” Malaina smiled beautifully then. “I’ve a daughter just about your age, I think. Annie. She’s sixteen.”

  “I’m seventeen, yes,” Brynn confirmed.

  “Oh wonderful! The two of you will get along beautifully. She looks like me. Fortunately she lacks some of my most unbecoming flaws. And Mary and Charlotte both have sons and daughters that are near your age.”

  “How many children do you have, Malaina?” Ophelia asked.

  “Four. Only four. But they’re wonderful. Michael is the eldest, he’s twenty-two. Then Robert, he’s twenty. The girls are next, Margaret is nineteen and Annie sixteen,” she answered.

  “How delightful!” Ophelia sighed.

  “Tom and I have six children,” Charlotte said. “We’ve three sets of twins in the litter. Two boys, twins that are twenty-two. Two girls, twins that are nineteen and a boy and a girl, twins that are fifteen.”

  “My goodness, Charlotte!” Ophelia exclaimed in amazement. “Do you lean toward triplets, Mary?”

  “No. Ours are singles. Our eldest is twenty-two as well. He has the same birthday as Charlotte’s boys. Then we have a daughter twenty-one, a daughter, twenty, a daughter nineteen, and a son fourteen,” Mary explained.

  Ophelia released a sigh of astonishment. “I’m surprised that the town hasn’t been named McCall with all of you living here.”

  “Do you have other siblings, Brynn?” Mary asked.

  “A younger sister, Sierra, and a younger brother, Scottie,” she answered. “Both terribly bothersome.”

  As the three ladies giggled Ophelia smiled, too, scolding, “Now, Brynn. Be kind.”

  “How charming,” Malaina said. “But, we shouldn’t keep you any longer Ophelia. That dashing school teacher husband of yours will be livid if he finds a group of giggling old crones in his parlor when he returns.”

  “Dashing? Father?” Brynn questioned, for she saw him as her ten
der, caring protector. Her beloved parent.

  “Yes, of course dashing, my dear,” Charlotte agreed. “You’ve got his eyes, too. Yes, I do see the resemblance you referred to, Ophelia.”

  “We met your father this mornin’, Brynn. He insisted that we not waste another moment in coming to meet your dear mother. And I’m glad we didn’t,” Mary explained. “Oh, Ophelia...we’re so glad to have you and your family here! It will be so wonderful to have a friend in town.”

  “Yes,” Malaina agreed. “Now, Matthew and Mary are having a barn raising the end of this month. We’ll let you know exactly when.”

  Mary and Charlotte nodded their heads enthusiastically.

  Malaina continued, “You simply have to come and meet everyone!” Then turning to Brynn, “Annie will be thrilled to meet you! And if I know my Michael, he’ll be looking forward to your family attending as well.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman, Mother,” Brynn said that evening as the family sat down to dinner.

  “Malaina McCall? Yes, she’s a rare beauty. I tell you, Richard, I would’ve thought her not a day over twenty-five had she not told me her age,” Ophelia responded.

  “Quite a story there too, I understand,” Richard Clarkston said as he took a bite of mashed potatoes.

  “What? You mean the way she met her husband?” Ophelia asked.

  “Yes. Extraordinary story,” he answered taking another bite.

  “What story?” Sierra, Brynn’s ten-year-old sister, asked.

  “Well,” her father began, swallowing his third bite of potatoes. “It seems that Jackson McCall, that’s her husband, simply found her in the wilderness one day. She was weakened from exposure and had no memory.” The family waited impatiently as he helped himself to a large bite of bread and butter. “To condense the tale, Mrs. McCall, Malaina, was a native New Orleanian and some horrid villain was stalking her. It all met in the middle one day, it seems. Jackson and his two brothers, all three honored graduates of West Point I might add, dueled to the so-called death. Triumphant, Jackson McCall married his beloved Malaina. Seems there was something or other about a renegade band of Indians as well.”

  “Indians? Really, Daddy? Indians!” seven-year-old Scottie squealed excitedly.

  “Indians?” Ophelia asked, obviously unsettled at the thought.

  “Yes, Ophelia, Scottie. Indians. It seems some violent leader type took Malaina hostage at some point. Her gallant hero helped the beast to expire and saved the fair maiden. I think she even had to extract a poisonous arrow from his shoulder.”

  Brynn smiled, completely enchanted by her father’s telling of the tale. He had such a way with the retelling of stories. “You’re making it up, Daddy,” Brynn giggled. “Renegade Indians? Poisoned arrows? What did she do, Daddy? Cut him open and drain out the poison?” Brynn smiled. Richard Clarkston could really invent a tale.

  “No. No. I believe she extracted the arrow and then proceeded to suck the poison from the wound. Yes, yes. That’s it. No, wait...yes, Mr. McCall pulled the arrow from his own shoulder and used it to impale the renegade. Yes, that’s how it went.”

  “Oh, Daddy. How nauseating! And at dinner!” Sierra whined.

  “It’s the truth. Young Grant McCall, their nephew, related the story to me only yesterday. Truly.”

  “He’s embellishing, Daddy. Surely!” Brynn said.

  “No. I think not. In fact, they tell me that the villain from New Orleans that was stalking Mrs. McCall is buried in the cemetery just outside of town. You’ve seen it, Brynn. The one we passed on our excursion last Saturday.”

  “Well, what was his name then? This man who tried to abduct her. We can all go just after dinner and look him up, can’t we?” Ophelia suggested. “It’s a beautiful evening and it will be light enough yet.”

  Richard Clarkston chewed a piece of meat thoroughly before responding. “Yes. That would be nice, dear. As for the man’s name...Collin something. Collin Mereaux. That’s it. We’ll all go then, just after dinner.”

  Brynn began to wonder then if her father’s story did indeed have a basis. But to imagine the beautiful Malaina McCall sucking poison from someone’s shoulder? Impossible.

  ❦

  “Well, I’ll be,” Ophelia exclaimed as she stood before the tombstone. “Look here, Brynn. ‘Collin Mereaux,’ that’s all it says.”

  Brynn gazed at the slab of granite that lay on the ground. Indeed, the name was there. But only a name and a date. No epitaph.

  “Why should it say more, dear? He was a villain as the story goes,” Richard reminded them all.

  “Do you think it’s true, Daddy?” Sierra asked. “Do you think someone really tried to kidnap Mrs. McCall? Do you think Mr. McCall really fought bravely for her, winning her in the end? Oh, how romantic,” she sighed.

  “I bet it was bloody,” Scottie interjected. “Nice and bloody.”

  “Scottie! How gruesome!” Ophelia scolded.

  “He’s a man above men, they say,” Richard stated.

  “Who, dear?” Ophelia inquired.

  “Why, Jackson McCall, dear. They say he can break any horse alive.”

  “I think you spend entirely too much time listening to gossip, Richard darling.”

  “They say he’s a handsome brute, too,” Richard added, winking affectionately at his wife.

  “Not as handsome as my brute,” Ophelia whispered to him.

  Brynn smiled contentedly as she watched her father place a loving kiss on her mother’s forehead and hug her securely in his arms. They were deeply in love. Even after so many years. It was evident every day of their lives.

  Brynn looked again to the tombstone. It seemed there was some truth to the story that had been related to her father. She thought to herself how horrid it all must have been. How ‘bloody’ as Scottie had put it. She was suddenly very curious to actually set her own eyes on this Jackson McCall, the legendary man who rescued and wed the beautiful Malaina. The handsome man that was the father of Michael McCall.

  As if in answer to her thoughts there came a low greeting from behind her.

  “Hello there. You must be the Clarkston family.”

  Brynn turned with the other members of her family to see Malaina and Jackson McCall standing before them. She drew in her breath, astonished at the uncanny resemblance this man bore to his son. His temples were graying and his eyes were green, but this was Michael McCall’s very image.

  “Oh, good evening,” her father greeted extending a hand toward the other man. “Yes. I’m Richard Clarkston. We’ve met your lovely wife and am I correct in assuming that you are Mr. Jackson McCall?”

  “That’s me,” the handsome man confirmed. “We rode out tonight to freshin’ the flowers on my mama’s grave. She’s right over here. I see you’re givin’ ol’ Collin the twice over.”

  Brynn blushed, humiliated at being caught hovering over the villain’s grave.

  “Yes,” her father confirmed again. “Young Grant was relating the fascinating story to me yesterday. I retold it tonight at dinner only to find four sets of very skeptical eyes sharing my meal.”

  “It’s all true,” Malaina said, going to stand next to Brynn and gazing down at the tombstone. “Horribly true.”

  “Even the Indians and the arrow part?” Sierra asked, her blue eyes widening to the size of china plates.

  “Yes, sweet thing. Even the arrow part,” Malaina answered smiling sweetly at the child.

  “Dang right! Especially the arrow part, sugar,” Jackson McCall added. Then he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it aside to reveal a large, blackish scar on one shoulder.

  “Jackson McCall!” Malaina scolded. “Button that shirt! You’re as bad as the boys!”

  “Naw! They wanted to see it, didn’t you kids?” he asked directly to Scottie.

  “Yeah!” Scottie whispered moving closer. “It’s so ugly!”

  “Scottie!” Ophelia reprimanded.

  “It is, ain’t it, boy?” Jacks
on agreed. “But don’t you think my Malaina was worth it?”

  Brynn giggled as Scottie glanced briefly at Malaina and shrugged his shoulders. Jackson chuckled and tousled the boy’s fair hair. “It’s good to have new folks in town. And you,” he said turning his attention to Brynn.

  Immediately her hands went to her skirt and began viciously wringing the garment. “Yes, sir?” she responded.

  “Michael told me he met a member of your family today. Judgin’ from his description, I’d say it was you.”

  “Yes, sir,” she confirmed.

  Jackson McCall grinned knowingly and chuckled, “Had his shirt off, didn’t he?”

  Brynn blushed slightly, but was relieved of responding when Malaina took hold of her husband’s arm tightly and said, “That’s enough, Jackson.” Smiling she looked to Ophelia. “It was so nice to bump into you out here. We simply must get together for a chat. I mean that, Ophelia.”

  “We will, Malaina. We will,” Ophelia assured her. “We’ll be off and leave you to your visit,” she said.

  Jackson and Richard shook hands again. Then Jackson turned his attention to Brynn once more. “Now, next time you meet up with Michael, don’t feel like ya gotta go on blushin’ so. Though, I did have the same affect on his mama and still do for that matter whenever I take off my...”

  His words were silenced by his wife’s lovely hand as it clamped tightly over his mouth.

  “Forgive him, Brynn dear. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ they say,” Malaina whispered winking.

  ❦

  “Charming couple,” Brynn’s father commented on the walk home. “Charming.”

  “Yes,” her mother agreed. “There’s something very unique about them. They’re deeply in love.”

  “It’s a blessing, dearest. A blessing that unfortunately many aren’t endowed with.” Then taking his wife’s hand in his own, Richard added, “Thankfully, we are.”

  “I think he’s the handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Sierra sighed.

  “You’re only ten, Sierra,” Scottie reminded his sister.

  “So? Did you see the way he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand? He’s a truly romantic man.”

 

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