Not once had they spoken of the feelings which they had for each other, except for occasional comments about how they valued their friendship.
Back in Redwood a new sheriff had been appointed and John Dawson was the new mayor. Reuben had resigned his post as marshal and then he had insisted on riding back with Sal to be with her until she settled back in on her ranch. Now the time had come to go.
Reuben didn’t turn as he adjusted the straps on his saddle. He knew that he was going to miss Sal but he also knew that he couldn’t stay and expect her to share the Crooked M, which had been the source of so much pain and hard labour for both Sal and the man who was buried a short distance from where he stood. He was aware of Sal’s intense stare, her eyes boring into the back of his skull.
Sal, for her part, didn’t want to force any issues. She felt intensely close to Reuben but she reckoned that it would be strange if she didn’t feel close to him, given that they’d relied on each other to survive. For all of that, she still missed Ed and wondered how she would have felt towards Reuben if Ed had not been murdered. In those circumstances, she told herself, she would not have even noticed Reuben Kane.
Then again, she reasoned, this was not those circumstances. Those circumstances had ceased to exist the day that Shep Cassidy rode into the Crooked M.
Reuben took one last look at the ranch and grinned a sort of shy grin in Sal’s direction. For reasons which neither of them understood, they had made no attempt to embrace and now he turned his back for the last time and slowly began to ride out of Sal’s life forever.
‘What’ll you do?’ she called after him, realizing that they had never discussed his plans for the future.
He tugged on the reins and the horse stopped. Her question hung in the air and he too realized that although they had agreed that he would leave once the ranch was up and running, they had never discussed where he would go.
She had spoken without moving. She looked up at him from the chair on the veranda and her voice still gave nothing away. Her facial expression was equally enigmatic.
‘I’ll head back East.’ He tried to sound matter of fact. ‘I got relatives who I ain’t seen for years. I’ll stop with them awhile. Now I know you can get on without Ed. . . .’
He tailed off and there was silence and still without turning his head, he kicked softly on the flanks of the horse, waved over his shoulder at her then began to ride away. The sun was low in front of him and he adjusted the brim of his Stetson. He reached the gate and leaned down from his saddle to remove the thick rope which was looped over the gatepost. The gate creaked open.
‘Damn gate. I meant to fix that hinge.’
He slung the rope back over the post and looked back towards the ranch house. Sal was standing on the veranda, hand shielding her eyes from the sun. She stepped down and started walking purposefully towards him and he sat astride his mount, waiting patiently and admiring the grace of her stride.
‘Reuben!’ Her voice had a different tone to it. Urgent. Almost fearful. She reached the fence and leaned her arms on it, looking up at him. He was silhouetted in the sunlight and she couldn’t see his face. For his part he could see that she looked troubled and agitated.
For a second she stood in silence, her mouth slightly open. She wasn’t sure what to say. Emotions were tumbling over themselves and she gasped for air slightly. She stared hard at the silhouette. Then she took a deep, decisive breath.
‘I’ll miss you, Reuben Kane.’
‘And I’ll miss you, Sal McIntyre.’ He wondered if she knew how much.
He grinned again, turned his horse and started to ride away again.
‘Reuben!’ Her call was more urgent this time.
‘What now?’ He turned back to face her in mock annoyance.
‘Stay.’
She stared at his silhouette, unable to gauge his reaction.
They were silent. Neither of them knew if they could stay together after all they had been through. Maybe they had been broken as people with the violence and death. Maybe Reuben Kane would always be a lawman and the idea of settling on a ranch would pall and ultimately collapse. Maybe Sal would forever hanker after Ed, longing for the husband who had been torn so cruelly from her. Maybe being together would constantly remind them of the awfulness of the past few weeks.
Maybe.
Life was full of maybes.
Reuben sat facing Sal and she repeated her words.
‘Stay. Please. I’d like you to.’
He climbed down from his horse. When he enfolded Sal in his arms their embrace was natural, full of tenderness and relief. For perhaps the first time in his life, Reuben Kane felt at one with the world. At home. This, he told himself, was how life should be.
Sal looked up into his eyes.
‘I’d like you to stay more than anything else. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I do know that I can’t imagine a life without Reuben Kane at my side.’
Reuben smiled tenderly.
‘And I don’t want to even think of life without you, Sal. Of course I’ll stay.’
They spent the evening in blissful contentment sitting on the veranda watching the sun sink in a big golden ball over the horizon. As the last signs of the golden orb sunk out of sight, leaving a stunning, golden orange sky, Sal leaned on the veranda rail. Reuben was in the kitchen.
Following Ed’s murder, Sal had not believed that she would ever feel happiness again and now she stared at the sky and took a deep breath of the night air. She looked up at the same sky that Reuben had seen when he had nursed her back to health and she felt a deep, deep contentment.
‘You coming in, Sal?’
‘I’ll be there directly.’
She stared at the small wooden cross, almost invisible in the gloom, which marked the spot where Ed lay.
‘Goodnight, Ed.’ And she turned and walked into the kitchen.
Crooked M Killings Page 13