Journey of the Heart

by Marjorie Farrell

She had expected that she would come home and although she had changed, everything else would be the same: the horses, her mother and father, the valley. They were to have had a long, glorious summer punctuated by Henry’s visit and then, when he returned from California, she would go back east with him to her new life, leaving her old life behind. Yet not really behind, for the ranch and her parents would always be there for her to come back to.

  But it had to stay the same, or how else could she leave it? Yet it was all changing. Three families had been driven out of the valley. Her horse had been attacked, perhaps ruined. Her Da had hired Gabe Hart. And her beloved home, even her family’s safety, was being threatened.

  She had put on an old calico dress to do the laundry and it was fairly soaked through by the time she finished. After she’d hung the sheets and clothes and emptied the last bucket of dirty water on the flowers, she felt as wrung out as the sheets. She’d intended to go for another ride, but instead, she wandered over to the corral where Gabe was working.

  He was just letting the last two-year-old into the near pasture when he saw her sitting on the fence, her wet dress clinging to her legs. She looked tired and somehow defenseless and he felt some sympathy for her, which surprised him. She’d come home to a lot, he thought: her colt injured and her parents facing Mackie’s threats.

  He slapped the horse’s spotted rump and walking over to her, said, “I was going to work Sky…I mean, Heathcliff, Miss Burke.”

  “Oh, call him Sky, Mr. Burke.” she said with a tired smile, “It is a far better name for him and I think we have both outgrown the other!”

  They were the first words she’d exchanged with him that didn’t have an edge to them.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to halter him and lead him out?”

  “You don’t think it would interfere with your training, Mr. Hart?” she said, with only a trace of sarcasm.

  “If I did, I wouldn’t have asked you,” he answered quietly.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Hart, I haven’t been very friendly, have I?”

  “Not so I’ve noticed,” he agreed with a slow smile.

  “It has been hard to come home and I thought it would be so easy,” she said with a wistful smile. She started to slip down from her perch on the fence, but her heel caught, throwing her off balance. Without thinking, Gabe reached out and caught her around the waist as she was about to fall and Cait’s hands were grasping his shoulders before she knew it. She slid down him slowly and they both stood there, overcome by embarrassment and something else.

  Cait stepped back, breaking the tension between them. “Thank you, Mr. Hart. If you hadn’t moved so quickly, I’d be facedown in the dirt. I’ll go in and get Sky,” she added and walked quickly into the barn, leaving Gabe standing there, remembering the feel of that small waist in his hands and the softness of her breasts as they brushed his body.

  * * * *

  “What was Burke’s answer, Chavez?” Nelson Mackie looked up from the paperwork on his desk at the man standing in front of him. Chavez was a good-looking devil, he thought, not for the first time. No wonder Maria is always eager to bring me coffee when he’s here. He smiled at the fresh cup in front of him. And those cold green eyes of his never even flicker in her direction.

  “Burke says he’s not selling, Señor Mackie.”

  “There is nothing more stubborn than an Irishman and I should know,” said Mackie. “You were persuasive?”

  “I was as clear as I could be without directly threatening him, señor.”

  Mackie looked down at his hands, which were clasped in front of him and tapped his thumbs together. “I think it is a shame, don’t you, that Burke is going to lose some sheep to accidental poisoning?”

  Chavez didn’t even blink, only nodded his head.

  “There’s a dance in two weeks’ time. That pretty daughter of his has just gotten home from school. You might just dance her into a corner and let her know what can happen to young women if they are not careful.”

  Chavez nodded again.

  “Maybe a few warnings like that will do it. But whatever it takes, he’ll sell by the time I’m finished with him. You can go, Chavez.”

  * * * *

  Mackie had hired Chavez away from Diego Navarro three years ago. ‘El Lobo’ was well-known in West Texas. He had a reputation for coldly carrying out whatever orders Navarro gave him, short of killing. No one ever crossed Navarro, because if they did, El Lobo would come visit. He didn’t ride in with a troop of men, blustering and bullying. He came alone and quietly enumerated the accidents that could happen to livestock in such a desolate country.

  When Mackie heard of him, he knew he had to hire him, for he was determined to expand his own cattle business into New Mexico. It was easy to get Chavez, he only had to offer him more money than Navarro.

  Chavez had served Mackie well. He was a good leader of men, for all he was a loner. Perhaps because he was. He was good with a gun, but better still, he was so good at intimidation that it rarely came to killing.

  Chavez himself would have had a hard time explaining his singular success except perhaps to say that he’d learned to exert his power over others in a hard school. On the Romero hacienda, he’d watched carefully, as he grew older, how Tomas handled others. If you wanted power, you never showed anyone pity or compassion. You maintained a cold distance from anyone weaker than you, whether it be women, slaves, or a man who could not stand up to you.

  Chavez didn’t gain pleasure from intimidating the weak. It was just that it was something he was good at. He knew how to follow orders and how to make others do the same. It paid him well. And someday….

  He was always thinking ‘someday.’ Someday, when he had enough money, he would buy his own place and be the only one giving the orders. But the truth was, he had enough money in a Santa Fe bank to buy a decent-size spread now. Something kept him from settling down, so he always said yes to the next job.

  His reputation and his nickname amused him. People had such a great fear of wolves, though as far as he knew, they never killed human beings, only livestock. He hadn’t killed many men, either, despite his reputation. Certainly never unless his own life was threatened. As for what he did: he tended to see it as a culling out of the weakest, the same way wolves did. The big difference between him and most wolves, of course, was that he ran alone. They should have called him ‘El Lobo Solitario.’

  He didn’t think a few poisoned sheep would change Michael Burke’s mind. But a frightened daughter might. He hadn’t seen the man’s daughter yet, but he’d heard she was pretty, so he was looking forward to a dance and a few minutes alone with Miss Caitlin Burke.

  * * * *

  It was a long, hard two weeks before Henry was to arrive. It began with Michael’s ride up to the mountains to deliver Eduardo’s supplies. He discovered that several sheep had been found dead.

  “Poisoned, señor,” said Eduardo, as they stood over the bloated carcasses.

  “Could it have been anything they’ve eaten?” Michael asked.

  “No, señor, there is no jimson weed around here.”

  “I didn’t really think so, Eduardo. It’s that bastard, Mackie. Have you seen any of his men around here?”

  Eduardo shook his head. “But someone could have done it while I was down at the camp.”

  “Well, we must all be more careful. Do ye feel safe up here alone, Eduardo? I could hire someone to keep ye company.”

  “No need, Señor Burke. I will be fine. And I don’t think Mackie would risk harming one of your men.”

  “I am not so sure, Eduardo. I’ll try to send Gabe or Jake up more often.”

  “Gracias, Señor Burke.”

  * * * *

  Michael told them all at dinner and Caitlin saw her mother’s face go white and then red.

  “It is that bastard Mackie,” Elizabeth said fiercely.

  “Ma!” Cait had never heard her mother say anything stronger than ‘damn’ and that rarely.

&nbs
p; “We have to go to the sheriff, Michael.”

  “Ye know he will only laugh in our faces, Elizabeth. Mackie had him appointed. And we have no proof.”

  “We don’t need proof, Michael. We both know it was that Chavez. A true wolf in a sheepfold,” she added bitterly.

  “Let’s just hope that this is all he’ll try. When he sees we’re not budgin’, maybe he’ll just give up and turn neighborly,” added Michael with an attempt at humor.

  Elizabeth smiled, but Caitlin could feel their tension and stayed closer to home on her rides than she had done before. When it was time to meet Henry’s train, her father told her that he would have to stay at the ranch to take care of things, and so he sent Jake off with them.

  Cait was so eager to see Henry that she didn’t think she could stand it. He would fold her in his arms and make the fear go away. She didn’t think much further than that, for if she did, she started worrying again. For until this was all resolved, how could she think of leaving?

  Chapter Nine

  When Cait saw Henry step off the train, she grabbed Elizabeth’s arm.

  “There he is, Ma, over there.”

  Elizabeth saw a slim, handsome man dressed in a dark blue suit step down and shade his eyes from the glare of the sun.

  “Over here, Henry,” Cait called and she hurried down the platform to hurl herself into his arms.

  She wanted him to squeeze her tight, to kiss all the fear of the past week away, but he only laughed quietly and prying her loose, took her hands, saying, “Let me look at you first, Cait. I want to drink in the sight of you.”

  She had worn her second-best dress from Philadelphia, but also one of her old bonnets to keep off the sun, which had fallen off and was hanging down her back. The sun was in her eyes and she couldn’t really see Henry’s face. But the feel of his hands on hers was wonderful. And he could hardly have given her the kisses she wanted in public, after all, she thought.

  “Welcome to New Mexico, Mr. Beecham,” said Elizabeth who had walked up behind them. “I am Caitlin’s mother, Elizabeth Burke.”

  Henry let go of Cait and bowed, saying, “I am so very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Burke.”

  “Our wagon is over here. Jake will take your bag for you,” Elizabeth added. “It is a long way back, so we had best get started.”

  “Of course,” replied Henry. He took Cait’s arm and they walked behind Elizabeth. He pressed it close to him and Cait felt that lovely feeling of being cherished and taken care of that she had felt in Philadelphia. Then his strong hands were around her waist, helping her into the wagon. They didn’t leave the same strange warmth that Gabriel Hart’s had done…but why on earth was she comparing the two? There was no comparison. Henry was everything that Gabe was not: well-educated, a brilliant law clerk, and a witty conversationalist, as well as a firm believer in the right of women to expand their horizons. Gabriel Hart was a good man with horses. While she had come to respect him for that, he was hardly a match for the man she loved.

  “I am sorry that Mr. Burke was unable to be with us, Mr. Beecham,” said Elizabeth after Cait and Henry were settled in the back seat. “But we have had some difficulties with a not very neighborly neighbor and he felt it best he remain at the ranch.”

  Henry looked at Cait inquiringly, but she only shook her head and said, “Later. Right now, you must give your full attention to New Mexico Territory.”

  By the time they arrived at the ranch, Henry had learned the names of the pale green shrubbery that all looked the same to him, but was either sage or chamisa, and had had all the local landmarks pointed out to him. He had expected more of a town than Ramah, with its few buildings, but was polite enough not to say anything but, “It is indeed, uh, picturesque, Caitlin.”

  When they finally reached the Burke ranch, the sun was going down and Henry was relieved to realize that the air was growing somewhat cooler. He had been sweltering in his suit and his face felt tight and hot. As they pulled up in front of the house, a tall man with pepper and salt hair walked over from the barn to greet them.

  “Ye made it back safe and sound, Elizabeth,” he said in a soft brogue. “And ye must be Mr. Beecham. Welcome to our home,” he added, putting out his hand.

  Of course Henry had known Caitlin was Irish on her father’s side, but Michael Burke was more…well, Irish than Henry had expected. He considered himself to be quite liberal, but was ashamed to realize that for one moment he had felt relief at the thought that his in-laws would hardly be visiting often.

  “How do you do, Mr. Burke. I am grateful for your hospitality. Caitlin has told me so much about her home,” he added, turning and smiling at her.

  “Well, she didn’t tell you to bring a broad-brimmed hat, did she, boyo?” said Michael with a clap on Henry’s shoulder. “Yer nose has gotten a little sun, I can see. We will have to find you a hat if ye’er going to do any ridin’.”

  Henry touched his nose and winced and, taking off his bowler hat, looked at it ruefully. “I would appreciate that, Mr. Burke.”

  Michael handed Elizabeth down and turning to Henry, said, “There’s a pump in back of the barn, if you want to wash the dust off. I’ll have Jake bring yer bag up. We’ll be eatin’ supper in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “Did you heat the stew, Michael?”

  “And mixed up some biscuits, Elizabeth,” Michael teased.

  “Thank you, Michael,” Elizabeth answered, putting her arms around her husband’s waist. Turning to her daughter, she said: “Cait, why don’t you show Henry where the pump is, dear?”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  * * * *

  Supper turned out to be a rather strained affair. Michael and Elizabeth were very conscious that the sophisticated young man would soon be a part of their family. But since they did not know him, they could hardly yet treat him as such. So they asked very politely about his education and plans for the future.

  “I hear you attended Harvard College,” said Elizabeth. “I am originally from Boston myself,” she added.

  “Yes, Caitlin told me. I enjoyed my time in Cambridge very much,” Henry replied. “It is not so vastly different from Philadelphia, you know. But I am happy to have found a position in my own hometown.”

  “I spent a little time in the East meself,” said Michael, “working as a stable lad in New York. From what I’ve heard, New York would be a bit more lively than Boston or Philadelphia,” he added with a smile.

  “Caitlin tells me you were in the army, Mr. Burke.”

  “The U.S. Calvary for many years. ‘Twas the army brought me west and I’ve never wanted to leave.”

  “Had you considered making a career of it?”

  “A career? I suppose I might have made lieutenant or maybe even captain eventually. But I was not interested in gaining my promotions by turning people off their land.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Henry seriously. “The Indian question.”

  “I don’t know that there was any question about it, boyo. It was one fight after another to push them west. Or south, or wherever the government wanted them.”

  Henry nodded. “I agree that our policy was not always wise. But we are at least making an effort to educate them, and bring them into the mainstream of our society. I am happy to say that my parents were active in establishing schooling for the natives of this country.”

  Elizabeth could feel Michael’s reaction to this statement and put her hand on her husband’s knee. “It is always good to hear of the concern good people back east have for the welfare of Indians and freedmen,” she said. “I remember my father and mother attending abolitionist lectures in Boston when I was a girl.”

  * * * *

  “Educating them to join society!” exclaimed Michael later when he and Elizabeth were getting ready for bed. “Cutting off a boy’s hair and forbidding any of them, boy or girl, to speak their native language!”

  “I just didn’t think our first night together was the time to discuss it, Michael,” said his wife
with a wry smile.

  “And you were right, a ghra,” he admitted. “It is just that we have seen some of the results when we’ve visited Antonio and Serena. Remember her nephew who went back east to school? He came home in a suit and tie and could hardly speak Navajo. He didn’t feel at home with his own people and all those well-meaning people back east? Well, they were not interested in hiring him or introducing him to their daughters.”

  “I know and I am very glad that Serena refused to send their daughter away.” Elizabeth sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done it, either.”

  “ ‘Tis hardly the same.”

  “Oh, I know that, Michael. But clearly Cait does not see this as home anymore. Once she goes back east, she won’t be our daughter in the same way.”

  “Well, what did ye think of the lad, Elizabeth?”

  “He seems very intelligent. He is certainly handsome. And he obviously respects Caitlin as well as loves her. That is very important to me, Michael. That whomever she marries not hold her back out of some old-fashioned idea of what women should do.” Elizabeth hesitated. “But….”

  “But what, a ghra?” asked Michael, putting his arm around his wife as she sat up against the pillows.

  “It is hard to know much after just one day, Michael. I think he loves Cait. He showed affection to her at the station. It is just that she is such a passionate person and I sense that he isn’t.” Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “He is obviously a fine young man, but I want Cait to have what we have, Michael.”

  “And what is that, Elizabeth?” Michael whispered.

  “A love that combines respect and affection with passion, Michael.”

  “Ye can’t always judge by the outside of a man.”

  “I know. He may very well be Heathcliff underneath his fine blue suit and spotless linen,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  They both looked at each other and laughed.

  “Somehow I don’t see Henry Beecham as a lad who’d enjoy wandering over the moors in the rain and the wind, me darlin’. And don’t ye think Cait has grown up a bit?”

  “Of course, but I think she is still our Cait, passionate about horses and books and ideas. She will need to have that passionate self welcomed in her marriage.”