Sweetwater

by Dorothy Garlock

  “You need a table and a chair.”

  “I’ll bring a chair from the house. Whit tells me my students won’t mind sitting on the floor. It would be nice to have a table to put the slates and books on.”

  “I’ll see what I can do … if you can wait a while for the extra bunk.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Colleen brought in a cot. Cassandra claimed it, leaving the bed for me and Beatrice.”

  “Then you’ll have your table.”

  For the next couple of hours Jenny sorted pieces of the torn books and tried to salvage as much of them as possible. Trell and Whit worked on the table. Trell skillfully maneuvered Whit into sharpening a hatchet on a small grindstone from the Murphy wagon. Whit smoothed the uneven plank with the hatchet while Trell shaped others with the axe. When finished, the table was rough, but sturdy. They moved it to the front of the room.

  “Oh, thank you. Thank both of you.” Jenny looked from the tall man to the boy and her heart took off like a runaway train.

  “We could have done a better job if we’d had the right tools, huh, Whit?”

  “Good, strong table.” A rare smile flickered across the boy’s face.

  “It sure is. I’ll cover it with a colorful cloth and put the books on it. I want the room to be attractive so the children will want to come.”

  Jenny was surprised that her voice was so normal because she certainly didn’t feel normal. For goodness sake! Why did she feel so absurdly nervous in Trell’s presence? His physical nearness almost paralyzed her thought process, but she was foolishly happy when she was with him.

  While working with Whit, Trell became aware of the boy’s quick mind and his skill with the hatchet. The legs he shaped for the table were far better than he himself could have done. Trell wondered if someone had taught him to use the hatchet. Later, he had asked him.

  “Whit, how come you’re so handy with that blade?”

  “Father taught me. He made things with a knife and a hatchet.”

  “What sort of things?”

  The boy hesitated, then said, “I show you. Come.”

  They followed him out the door and into the woods. A dozen yards from the school, the boy stopped at a fir tree whose spiny branches swept the ground. He hesitated for a moment, then dropped to the ground, crawled underneath and came out with a large bundle tied with a thong. His eyes surveyed the area before he started back toward the school, staggering under the heavy load.

  Trell and Jenny followed both knowing that this was something very important to the boy and that he was honoring them by sharing it with them.

  Whit was breathing hard by the time he got to the school and placed the bundle on the table he and Trell had just made. He untied the thong and pulled back what appeared to be a bear skin. He lifted one of the individually wrapped items and carefully removed the rabbit skin to reveal a wood-carved bust of a woman. It was nearly life-size, and the detail was so fine you could see the arched brows over her eyes. Noticing the curve of the high cheekbones, the small straight nose and sensitive lips Jenny knew immediately who the subject was.

  “Your mother! Oh, Whit, she was beautiful.”

  “Yes.” The boy rubbed his finger lovingly over the dark wood that had been polished to a bright sheen. “Father made another one and one of me, but they are gone.”

  He unwrapped another skin and revealed a bird in flight, its wings extended, its long neck stretched. You could see the downy feathers on the bird’s breast. One after the other Whit showed them a dozen of his father’s carvings; bear, deer, buffalo and even a fish.

  “Little ones were left. Big ones taken except this one.” He touched the bust of his mother with a gentle finger.

  “Who took them?” Jenny asked, but she knew.

  “After Father die, agent and Havelshell come. Havelshell not agent then. They told me and Father’s wife to go. When I come back, all gone but these.”

  “So you took them.”

  “They are mine!”

  “I know. They’re very good, aren’t they, Trell?”

  “They are. I don’t know a lot about these things, but I’ve seen a few pieces in Denver that sold for a lot of money.”

  “I never take money.” Whit began to rewrap the pieces in the rabbit pelts.

  “Was your father teaching you how to carve?” Jenny asked.

  “With the hatchet. We made bear head out of stump. Gone now.”

  “The injustice makes me furious!” Jenny’s flashing green eyes caught and held Trell’s. “How dare they run roughshod over the rights this boy has to his father’s estate? He is as much white as he is Indian. Even if he were not, it would still be wrong, wrong, wrong!”

  “They’re holding all the cards, Jenny,” Trell said. “In order to get things changed, you’ll have to go to the higher-ups.”

  “That’s just what I’m doing. I’ve written a full report to the Bureau.”

  “When I leave here I’ll go straight to Forest City and mail it.”

  “I’ve asked them to send my mail there.”

  “When I pick up mine, I’ll get yours.”

  It was early evening when Trell saddled up to leave. He didn’t want to go, but wanted to be across the river before dark. He stood by the corral fence talking to Colleen for what seemed to Jenny a long time. Not wanting to intrude in their conversation, Jenny remained indoors until he came to the house, Colleen walking beside him.

  “I was telling Colleen that if you womenfolk decide to go to town, all of you should go. There’s safety in numbers.”

  “Do you think we should? I’m afraid to leave the house and the school without someone here.”

  “I spoke to Ike. He’ll stay while you’re gone.”

  “Oh, but—”

  Trell laughed. “Don’t underestimate that old man. He’s a ring-tailed tooter when he’s riled up.”

  “What’s that?” Cassandra asked. “You Westerners have some peculiar expressions.”

  With a look of real affection in his face, Trell looked down at the child.

  “Cass, if I had half your brains, I’d be rich.”

  “I’m glad you’re not. Being rich and being corrupt often go hand in hand. Besides, being happy is more important.”

  “You may be right.”

  “I am right. I was rich and miserable. Now I’m poor and happy.”

  Trell looked quickly at Jenny. She hugged her sister and then extended her hand to him.

  “We thank you—all of us, for the cow and the puppy and all you did today.”

  “You’re welcome.” He squeezed her hand gently before he released it.

  “Most of all, we thank you for bringing Colleen and Granny. They’re our family now. The girls and I hope they stay with us forever and ever.”

  “Don’t be silly, Virginia. Colleen will want to marry someday.” Cassandra rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “So will you, but you’ll still be my family.”

  “That’s true. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  “I want a word with Whit before I go.” Trell strode toward the school and Whit who was sitting on the doorstone.

  “Do you know how to get to my ranch?” Trell asked. Whit nodded. “If Havelshell gets too rough here, and you need to leave, come to me. I’ll get you to people who will know what to do.”

  “I not leave teacher now.” He stood straight and proud, his arms folded over his chest.

  “If she should need help, come to me.”

  Whit nodded.

  Trell went back to the group waiting to say good-bye. He had hoped for some private time with Jenny, but that wasn’t to be unless he asked for it. He looked at her face, storing away every feature to bring back and remember on the long ride home.

  He said good-bye to Colleen and the girls, thanked Granny for the meals, then looked at Jenny.

  “Walk with me a ways?”

  Jenny glanced at the others. Cassandra rolled her eyes, winked and murmured, “I told you so.”
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  Jenny was agonizingly aware of the man at her side. They walked alongside the pole corral, Trell leading his horse. When out of sight of the house he stopped and turned to Jenny. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but her hand was held tightly in his.

  “I’ll be back, Jenny. If you should need me during the next few days, send Whit.”

  “I will. Are you sure you don’t mind posting my letters?”

  “Not at all. I’ve already sent a letter to my half brother, Pack Gallagher in Laramie. I told him what was going on here and asked him to get in touch with Marshal Clive Stark.”

  “How can I thank you?”

  “Don’t.”

  The evening light fell gently on her face, molding it. She had a wistfulness about her tonight. He liked the way she looked and talked. She was a woman, yet she was a girl, too. She was nice and tall and held herself proudly. He wanted more than anything in the world to pull her to him and hold her in his arms as he had done earlier. The moment crackled with tension.

  As Trell’s eyes roamed her face, strange feelings stirred in Jenny. Her heart fluttered, and she drew the tip of her tongue across dry lips. She wished that he would hold her and kiss her. The boldness of the thought, the sheer wonder of it happening, sent a thrill of excitement through her.

  “Jen … ny, you’re … awfully pretty.”

  “Like this?” She laughed nervously and moved her free hand up to smooth her hair.

  The shimmer in her eyes and the smile on her soft mouth made him feel shaky inside. He dropped the reins, captured her other hand and pressed both palms to his chest.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

  “I … wish it, too.”

  She looked at him with wide, clear eyes. As if vaporized, Jenny’s thoughts fled, and emotion took over. Forces stronger than she compelled her to sway toward him. Feeling more daring than ever before in her life, she lifted her face to his. Their breaths mingled for an instant before he covered her mouth with his. Although his lips were soft and gentle, they entrapped hers with a fiery heat. There was such a sweet taste to his mouth!

  With a leap of joy, Trell realized he had actually kissed this angel of a woman. He could not speak above the sound of his thundering heart. Silently, he held her close, his cheek pressed tightly to hers.

  “I’ll watch until you’re back in the house.” His voice came finally in a husky whisper.

  “You … must go?” Her hands were still pressed to his chest.

  “Yes, but I’ll be back.” He lifted her palm to his lips. “Jenny, I … I don’t usually act so bold—”

  “Neither do I. I wanted you to kiss me. It doesn’t have to mean anything unless we want it to.”

  “I want it to.” He kissed her again, hard and quick, then dropped her hands and picked up the reins. “I’ll be back—”

  He walked with her to the edge of the corral, then mounted his horse. Jenny stood alone. She lifted her hand and waved. He put his heels to his horse.

  He looked over his shoulder after he was halfway across the grassland, hoping to see her one last time. She was still standing there, the evening breeze pressing her skirt against her legs.

  She lifted her hand again.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I should stay here with Ike.” Colleen helped Granny up onto the seat of the wagon.

  “Why’s that? Ya think I’m too damned old to take care of thin’s here?”

  “I don’t think that and you know it.”

  “McCall said it warn’t a good idey fer Jenny to go to town by her lonesome. He said no man in his right mind was goin’ to stand up to three armed womenfolk and fer ya to stay together.”

  Ike waited for Colleen to climb up the wheel. It was the first time any of them other than Granny had seen her in a dress. She was right pretty, he thought, even with her pa’s gun belt strapped about her waist.

  “Trell told me that, too,” Jenny said.

  “What he said was, ‘There’s safety in numbers.’” Cassandra chimed in.

  “He was countin’ on Colleen drawin’ that six-gun if need be. Said she warn’t no slouch with that rifle a’tall.”

  Colleen’s face reddened a little on hearing the compliment and hurried to take the attention from herself.

  “Jenny’s pretty handy with that little peashooter she carries in her pocket.”

  “Somebody’s going to have to teach me to fire a gun,” Cassandra said from where she and Beatrice sat on a box behind the seat.

  “Lordy mercy, Cassandra!” Jenny glanced over her shoulder at her sister. “You forget sometimes that you’re a child.”

  “You don’t have to be a certain size or age to pull a trigger, Virginia. Boys my age fought in the War. I’m going to ask Trell to give me some shooting lessons like you took at Uncle Noah’s club.”

  “We could call ya Cassandra Jane, like that there Calamity Jane.” Colleen took up the reins and slapped them against the back of the team.

  “She’s ugly! She drives a mule team and wears men’s pants!”

  “So do I.” Colleen turned the team and headed down the wagon track toward town. “They’re more comfortable than this darned old skirt.”

  “But you’re pretty. Trell thinks you’re pretty, too. I asked him, and he said you were as pretty as a covey of quail. He considered that a compliment. I’d rather be compared to a sunset or a flower than a stupid bird.”

  Jenny heard a small chuckle and click of the tongue come from Granny, who was sitting between her and Colleen. Trell thought Colleen pretty. Jenny couldn’t fault him for that, but she felt a twinge of jealousy anyway. Today Colleen wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a calico skirt slightly frayed around the bottom. The tight waistband showed off her small waist and generous bosom. Her freshly washed hair was tied back with a ribbon and her suntanned face contrasted becomingly with her light blue eyes.

  Jenny was ashamed of the uncomfortable feeling in the region of her heart when she thought of Trell and Colleen. In the short time she had known the Murphys, they had become very dear to her. Colleen deserved a good man like Trellis McCall. But it was me he kissed! Jenny adjusted her small-brimmed straw hat and tried not to think of Colleen and Trell together.

  She had not dressed to impress the population of Sweetwater as she had done when she went to the Agency store. The two-piece dress she wore today was called a wash suit back in Baltimore. It was made of tan-and-white-striped percale. It was not at all fancy, and she had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows to make it appear to be even less so.

  It had not been easy to ride away from the ranch and the school knowing what could happen while she was gone. She had expressed these concerns to Whit the night before, and this morning he had appeared at the school with the man who had helped him take out the dam. She had gone to speak to him.

  “Be careful, Whit. I’d rather have the schoolroom destroyed again than to have you hurt.”

  “I not alone. Others follow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Father’s second wife speak with elders. Others will come to watch school while teacher is away.”

  “That’s wonderful. Then the elders are not opposed to the school?”

  “They say school is foolish. They do it for Father. He give much meat when they were hungry. He give blankets when they were cold.”

  As he spoke a dozen horsemen came out of the woods and stopped at the edge of the clearing. They were fearless, primitive-looking men, some with bows and quivers of arrows on their backs, others with rifles. They stared at Jenny. She knew better than to wave and was uncertain how to acknowledge their presence.

  “You do not have to speak to them.” Whit seemed to have read her mind. “They do not expect it from a woman.”

  “Well, good! I didn’t know what to say anyway.”

  Whit had smiled one of his rare smiles. “Teacher not like Girl-Who-Squawk-Like-Jaybird.”

  Thinking about it now, Jenny realized how much sh
e had come to like and depend on Whit. Some way or the other she was going to see that he got the education his father wanted him to have and eventually share with him the homeplace that was his birthright.

  To Jenny the landscape seemed even more beautiful than it had been the day they passed through it going to Stoney Creek. The trail ran alongside a stand of tall pines and cedars. The breeze carried their scent and the tweet-tweeting of the birds in their branches. On the other side, a meadow stretched to another stand of pines in the distance and from it came the song of a meadow lark and the cooing of mourning doves.

  “I’m thirsty, Cassy.”

  “Don’t call me Cassy, Beatrice. You just want to drink out of the fruit jar.”

  “Jenny—?”

  “Give her a drink, Cassandra.”

  “Then she’ll want to wet.”

  “If she does, we’ll stop.”

  “I will never have children when I grow up. Never! Never! Never!”

  “You’d make a wonderful mother,” Jenny replied patiently.

  “Of course, I would. But I’ll never do what you have to do to become a mother. It’s too revolting even to think about.”

  Jenny opened her mouth, then closed it. She glanced at Colleen and saw that her lips were pressed tightly together to hold back the laughter.

  The town with its rutted streets and plank buildings, fronted with boardwalks, seemed even smaller to Jenny than it had the day they arrived. The street was bare except for a buckboard and a few horses tied at the rails in front of the stores. Oblivious to the stares of the men who occupied the slab benches and the gawkers who paused along the boardwalk, Colleen turned the team into the first side street and stopped. She climbed from the seat and then helped her grandmother.

  “This is a town?” Cassandra’s sarcastic remark required no answer as they moved in a group to the corner and stepped up onto the boardwalk. At the door to the mercantile Jenny took a paper from the drawstring purse that hung over her wrist and gave it to Granny.

  “This is the list you and Cassandra made out. I need to go to the bank and to the post office. Girls, stay with Colleen and Granny. I’ll not be long.”