Caleb

by Christine Sterling

  He listened to Hart as they continued to walk. It was more background noise as Caleb wasn’t listening to the words. Hart began to sing.

  “Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me…”

  Caleb felt his chest tighten. That was one of Mike’s favorite songs.

  “… with my banjo on my knee.”

  Caleb rubbed his chest willing the feeling to go away.

  “Boss!” It was Goodie. “River’s just about a mile further.”

  “Did you find a place to camp?” The cattle and horses would be kept outside the town close to water. The men would take turns watching them so the others could enjoy Pueblo.

  “There is a clearing just before the river bend. I found a shallow spot where we can water the cattle.”

  Caleb nodded. “Let the drags know.”

  “Will do.” Goodie rode off towards the back of the herd.

  Caleb whistled to Slim, who repeated the whistle. It was a system of communication that the brothers came up with when they were boys. When they weren’t working, they would spend their days exploring the bluffs or fishing from the creek. The whistles were a way to communicate when they weren’t close together.

  Each brother had a unique call, specific to them. In addition to playing or hunting, the whistles expanded into chores and tasks, and even exclamations when they were frustrated or mad. Caleb was sure Marmee had deciphered the whistles, but she didn’t say anything.

  As they grew older, they used the whistles to signal to each other what was happening next. Pretty soon the ranch hands picked up on the whistle language and it was incorporated into everyday life.

  “What does that whistle mean?”

  “That tells the men that we are going to be stopping up ahead.”

  “Oh.” Hart tried to mimic the whistle. The sound came out in a gush of air and spittle. “I guess I need practice.”

  “We can teach you. It is easy once you learn how.”

  “Ma would like it here.”

  “I’m sure she would.”

  “She’s my momma, even though she doesn’t remember me.”

  Caleb put his arms a little tighter around Hart, squeezing him. “She’ll remember you, son. She’s just taking a while to recover.”

  “I know she thinks you are my Pa.” Caleb stiffened. Lydia had mentioned several times to Doc that she thought Caleb was her husband. “I wish you was my Pa, then those bad men wouldn’t have hurt Ma.”

  Caleb didn’t know how to respond, so he remained silent. Doc had kept Caleb apprised of Lydia’s condition over the past few days. Caleb had been avoiding her since she declared him her husband. When Caleb tried to explain to her, Lydia went into hysterics before passing out on the blanket.

  Since then Caleb avoided the wagon, just asking Doc daily how she was doing. Lydia didn’t remember anything, but it was not even two weeks since the attack. Once they got to Pueblo, Caleb would find the doctor and have him look over everyone. He was especially interested in what the doctor would say about Lydia.

  They continued to walk with Hart lightly singing along the way. The breeze was picking up and Caleb could smell water and mud in the distance.

  It took about an hour for the river to come into view. Relief swept through Caleb’s body. He was ready to get off the horse and walk around for a bit. As the point horse directed the herd’s speed, Caleb tapped his spurs against Blaze, signaling for him to increase to a light run. He wanted the herd to go faster, but he didn’t want to risk a stampede.

  He found the area that Goodie had mentioned and steered the cattle in that direction. He stopped Blaze and turned to face the herd. The front row immediately went to the river to get a drink. Pretty soon the entire herd had their muzzles in the water.

  “Don’t let them drink too much at once,” Caleb called. He didn’t want the animals to get bloated. He walked to the side of the river and dismounted his horse. Blaze immediately dropped his muzzle in the water and Caleb could almost hear the horse slurping. Lifting his arms to get Hart, the little boy slid off the saddle and wrapped his arms around Caleb hugging him.

  “Thank you for helping us,” he said before sliding to the ground and running over to where the puppies were under the chuckwagon. Caleb looked at the river and blinked several times. It wouldn’t do to show emotion in front of the men, but there was just something about Hart that was settling in his heart.

  Granted, he was a handful. He wanted to be involved in every aspect of the cattle drive. The cowboys were patient with him. One even showed him how to use a lasso. The dogs weren’t happy, however, when Hart decided to test out his new skill on them.

  Even Tot had warmed up to the boy, showing him how to soak beans then cook them with spices and leftover pieces of beef or salt pork. Hart liked dropping the biscuits in the hot Dutch oven and listening to them sizzle against the cast iron.

  He saw Doc riding towards the river. Caleb let Blaze drink for another moment before tugging on the reins and leading him towards the approaching rider.

  “Doc,” Caleb said.

  “You’re going to need some liniment,” Doc said, pointing to where Caleb was rubbing his lower back. Caleb dropped his hand. He didn’t even realize he was rubbing it.

  “I’ll stop by and get some later. Right now, I want coffee.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Doc turned his horse to keep pace with Caleb striding towards the wagons.

  “Mrs. Whitcomb was asking for you.”

  Caleb rubbed his hand down his face. “What did you tell her?”

  “That you were out working. She wants you to come back and see her.”

  Caleb nodded. “I’ll do that. We need to transfer everyone to the last wagon so we can take them into town. Once we drop them off then we can use the wagon to pick up the supplies from the mercantile.”

  “When do you want to pull out?”

  “Give me about an hour. I need to get something to eat and wash off some of this dirt. I’ll be around to see Mrs. Whitcomb before we leave.” Doc nodded and rode off towards the wagon.

  Caleb walked Blaze to a tree near the wagon circle and dropped his reins. There was a clump of grassy plants he could eat. He removed the saddle and blanket and placed them near the wagon.

  Blaze immediately fell to the ground and started rolling, his legs in the air. When he was done, the horse stood up and started nibbling the clumps of grass.

  Caleb tied Blaze to the tree so he wouldn’t wander and patted him on the rump before heading towards the chuckwagon. Grabbing a cup from a wooden crate, he walked over and poured a cup of coffee. Hart was playing with the pups next to the wagon and Tot was cooking something.

  “How was the ride today?” Tot asked, stirring a pot over the fire.

  “Uneventful,” Caleb said sipping the dark brew. “Just the way I like them.”

  “Saw a string headed to town.” A string was a group of horses usually tied together and being led by a rider.

  “How many?”

  Tot thought for a moment. “About a dozen. There were three men with them.”

  “When did you see them?”

  “When we first pulled up. They were watering their horses by the river.”

  “Okay. We’ll keep an eye out.” Caleb knew that the horses from two different herds could spook each other. He didn’t want to chase horses if he didn’t need to.

  “Made you a biscuit.” Tot handed him an enamel plate covered with a cloth.

  Caleb put his cup down and took the plate. “Thanks,” he said, looking underneath the napkin. There were two biscuits leftover from breakfast with a piece of steak between them. Caleb bit into the biscuit with relish.

  “What’s that you’re eating?” Hart said.

  “A biscuit. You want a bite?”

  Hart nodded and gently took the second biscuit from the plate and bit into it. Hart put the food back on the plate and scrambled up the rock to sit next to Caleb. He picked the biscuit b
ack up and ate it while rocking back and forth humming.

  “Are you going into town, Hart?” Tot asked.

  Hart nodded. “Caleb is going to get me a cowboy hat.”

  Tot raised his eyebrow and looked at Caleb. “He is?”

  “He said that he would find me one when we got to town. This is a town.”

  “Sounds logical to me.”

  Hart finished his biscuit and licked his fingers, hopping down from the rock he patted his knees. “Come on Scout!” He patted his legs once more. “Come on Blue. Come on Charcoal. Come on Biscuit. Come on Buck and Vangie.” Once the dogs crawled out from under the wagon Hart took off running towards the river with the dogs at his heels.

  “Don’t go in the water,” Caleb called. He turned to see Tot regarding him with interest. “What?”

  The cook shook his shoulders. “Nuthin’. You just reminded me of your Pa when he was younger.”

  “I thought you didn’t know my Pa until a couple of years ago.”

  Tot looked back to his pot with an intent stare. “As I said, ain't nothing,” Tot mumbled under his breath.

  Caleb wasn’t sure what to think. Tot was an enigma. Some days he would speak as if he had been educated at the most expensive schools. Other times he strung together a series of words that made Caleb wonder if Tot had been around the cowboys for too long.

  But he was a great cook and Weston Chapman trusted the man with his life. He watched as Hart threw a rock in the river. “Alice names all the animals,” he said softly.

  “The pups needed names. No harm in the boy naming them.”

  “But that is Alice’s job.”

  Tot stood and walked over to the rock, towering over Caleb. “It was. Doesn’t mean it has to remain that way. Change is good, boy. Maybe it is time for someone else to name the animals.”

  “What is Alice going to think?”

  “She’s a grown woman, Caleb. Time you boys start treating her as such. I doubt she’ll be concerned if the pups have names.”

  Tot returned to the side of the fire. Picking up the coffee pot he poured himself a cup and set it aside to cool.

  Caleb didn’t want to think about change. Especially if it involved his family. He wanted to think about Michael, who died too young. He wanted to keep Alice in pigtails and pinafores for as long as possible. His heart was hurting again.

  Caleb finished his biscuit and washed it down with the hot coffee. “That was good.”

  “T’ain’t got no more ifen you still hungry.”

  Caleb stood and brushed the crumbs from his pants. “That will hold me over. I might get dinner in town tonight. You comin’?”

  Tot shook his head. “I ain’t got no use for a town like that. Too much noise. Too many people. Too much drinkin’. I’ll stay here, thank you.” Caleb picked up his cup and plate and put them in the dish pot. As he walked away, he heard Tot call to him. “That boy’s gonna need a man in his life. He likes you. It can be you, or it can be someone else. But that boy is looking for someone. Now that his momma ain’t right, he needs someone more than ever. Don’t you break that boy’s heart, Caleb.” Tot pointed his ladle at Caleb. “You hear me?”

  Caleb didn’t say anything, he simply turned and went to grab a shirt from his saddlebag.

  “What do you think, Doctor?” Caleb asked, eyeing the man who had just looked over the four passengers that survived the wagon ambush and Jimmy.

  “The boy will be fine. Children are resilient.”

  “He’s been having night terrors.”

  “Perfectly normal given what he’s been through.”

  “Did he say anything about the attack?”

  “No. But I didn’t ask for details. He’ll talk when he is ready. I don’t understand why he didn’t even get so much as a scratch.”

  “He hid in a crevice between some rocks.” Caleb thought back to Hart jumping from the rocks to save his pup. He was a strong little boy.

  “Remarkable.” The doctor looked at the notes he had scribbled down. “Now, your scout will recover fully. It just might be a bit before he can fire a rifle.”

  “He okay to ride a horse?”

  “Don’t let him ride for long periods. Where you boys headed?”

  “Nebraska.”

  “He can ride for a few hours a day. That’s all.” Caleb nodded his understanding. “Mr. Robert’s family sent a telegram and they’ll be coming to get him. He and his wife were going to live with their daughter. He can stay at the clinic until they arrive.”

  “What about the women?”

  “Mrs. Miller, I’m afraid we can’t find her family. There wasn’t a response from the Sheriff regarding her. I’m afraid her mind is addled after the trauma she endured. I doubt she will ever recover.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “There is an asylum hospital about 30 miles west of here. I would take her there.”

  “We aren’t headed that way. We are headed north to Owl Canyon.”

  “I suppose she can stay here until I get someone to pick her up.”

  “I’d be much obliged.”

  “I recommend that your wife be confined to the hospital as well.”

  “She only thinks I’m her husband. We aren’t married.”

  “You aren’t?”

  Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know why she latched onto that.”

  The doctor mumbled something under his breath. Caleb was sure it had to do with him.

  “It could be something traumatic that happened before this and she is regressing to that place. It could be that it is a secret wish coming to the surface. I recommend you humor her until her memory returns. Or you send her to the hospital.”

  Caleb winced. The last thing he wanted to do was to lie to the young woman. He didn’t want to send her to an asylum either. He had heard horror stories of the conditions. He was sure that going to an asylum would make her condition worse, not better.

  Caleb put his hands up in a steeple and tapped his fingers against his lips; he recalled Slim saying something to that effect. If they left her alone in Pueblo, the doctor and sheriff would most likely send her off to an asylum.

  “What’s her prognosis. You said her memory might return?”

  “Well, the injury is what caused her to lose her memory. Amnesia, we call it. I imagine that once the bruising goes away and she begins to integrate into a normal way of living she will probably make a full recovery.”

  “Do you think she’ll remember what happened to her?”

  The doctor shrugged. “She may never remember that. But people with these kinds of injuries eventually do remember their life before they were hurt. She might make a full recovery, but we just don’t know.”

  “If I was to take her back to Nebraska, is there any reason she wouldn’t be able to travel?”

  The doctor looked at Caleb. “Just take it easy. Let her rest in the back of the wagon when she needs to. She should tell you what she needs.” The doctor gave a little cough. “Physically there is nothing wrong with her. She’s young, healthy, might even be able to bear you a child.”

  Caleb sat up in his seat. “She has a child.”

  “You mean the boy?” Caleb nodded. “That isn’t your child?” the doctor asked. “Forgive, I just thought he was your son the way they both talked.”

  Caleb was confused for a moment. He recalled how protective Lydia was over her son in San Angelo. Only a mother would behave that way. “I don’t understand.”

  “Mr. Chapman, this woman has never given birth.”

  Chapter 8

  Caleb thought about what the doctor said as he walked out of the office with Lydia and Hart. Hart was holding Caleb’s hand and laughing, pointing at the cowboys that were walking through town. Lydia pulled her bonnet forward, hiding the mark on her face.

  He wasn’t sure what to do. He wished he had Mike to talk to. Mike was always good at figuring out the answer to a situation. Caleb simply reacted, where Mike would think things through.

>   “I’m feeling rather tired. I think all the excitement wore me out,” Lydia said.

  “How about I get you a hotel room and you can rest? I’ll even get you a bath brought to the room.”

  “That sounds lovely.” She raised her hand to her brow. “I’m really not feeling well.”

  “Let me help you,” Caleb said, taking Lydia’s arm and wrapping his hand around her waist. “Lean on me if you feel faint.”

  She was much smaller than he remembered under her dress. The dress was still stained with blood from the attack and the scent of smoke permeated the fabric. He could feel her bones jutting through the fabric. When he saw her in San Angelo, she was a fair woman with just enough curves to make a man take notice. He certainly did, until he thought she was a grieving widow.

  Now she had lost all that weight, and her dress just hung on her. He would make sure that she got a good meal and some clean clothes. They walked to the building with a large sign over it proclaiming Hotel. Caleb walked in, still holding Lydia against his side.

  “I need a room for tonight,” he said.

  The clerk behind the counter looked at Caleb, Lydia, and Hart. “Just one?”

  “Yes. Just one.”

  The man gave a little sniff of disapproval. “I take it you would like a bath as well?”

  “Can I have one sent to the room?”

  “That’s an extra twenty-five cents.”

  “That’s fine.”

  The clerk turned a ledger around and pointed to a line. “Sign here.”

  Caleb released Lydia just long enough to sign his name. “Can I get her something cool to drink as well?”

  “We have water or tea.”

  “As long as it is cold, that is fine.”

  “Just one?”

  Caleb looked at Hart. “Two.”

  “That will be twenty-five cents.”

  Caleb was about to balk, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out three bills. “Keep the change,” he said, pocketing the key from the clerk.