Westward, Tally Ho!

by Milo James Fowler

  Arms wide, Guthrie took both Clarence and Kate in a strong embrace, holding them tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks. Clarence did a bit of blubbering himself, but for him, sadly, it was not entirely out of character.

  "Guthrie," he gasped, burying his face into his beloved butler's chest.

  "Master Clarence!" Guthrie was actually smiling. "And Kate!" He hugged them tighter. "I thought both of you were lost, for certain."

  "Walter, you're all right," Kate said with relief, touching his cheek, rough with stubble.

  Slowly, Guthrie released them, and they sniffed, drying their eyes.

  Master Clarence started babbling excitedly about his adventures, and Percy and Silas came running up behind them, but all Guthrie saw was Kate. For the moment, he and she were the only two people on the planet. He steadied her by the shoulders and asked her about her wound. She smiled and shrugged it off, saying the bullet went straight through, and that Clarence had taken good care of her.

  Guthrie smiled back warmly as fresh tears stung his eyes. She looked up at him, seeming to wonder at his expression. Her lips parted, and she was about to speak when he reached for his collar and unbuttoned it. She watched with curiosity as he reached down and withdrew a silver chain.

  Her eyes widened when she saw his pendant, the half of the heart he'd worn since before she was born.

  "Kate," he said hoarsely, touching her cheek. "Catherine…"

  Chapter 51

  It was a fresh, cool morning as dawn's glow spread out across the horizon. The town of Santa Fe was just beginning to stir after their good night's sleep. Here and there a bird began to chirp and sing. For now, the street was nearly deserted, and all remained calm and quiet.

  Clarence sat in a cane-bottom chair out front of Percy's saloon. He'd washed himself and shaved and changed into a clean set of Western attire. He felt almost back to normal, albeit exhausted, but he was too fidgety to sleep—and too sunburned. Satiated by a hearty breakfast of steak and eggs, he set his eyes on a sight that truly warmed his heart.

  There were Guthrie and Kate, ambling up and down the street astride one of Percy's horses. They'd been talking together for hours, so intent on what they were discussing that they didn't seem to notice anything around them. Guthrie kept smiling—something Clarence delighted in seeing—and never took his eyes from Kate, mounted in front of him. He nodded and hung on her every word as she spoke, and when he said something, she would squeeze his arm and look back at him and smile in return.

  Clarence sighed contentedly. It was so good to see them together at last, father and daughter. And so unexpected! Such unfathomable Providence had brought them together, under circumstances and timing that left no room for chance. It was wonderful, truly fantastic. Clarence sighed again, and a tear came to his eye.

  "Your move, son," Percy said.

  "Oh yes, quite." Clarence wiped at his eye and returned to a game of chess with the friendly barkeep. He nodded, trying to focus on their match. He was so enthralled by Guthrie and Kate's reunion, but he knew he shouldn't stare at them. "How many moves did you say?"

  Percy chuckled. "I'll beat you in four."

  Clarence was up to the challenge. "How's Silas?" He moved his bishop.

  Percy blocked with a pawn. "He'll be sleepin' off that bottle I gave 'im for a while, but he'll be fine."

  "And what about Buckeye Daniels?"

  Percy shrugged. "No sign of 'im, hide nor hair. Must be on his way out to the Arizona territory by now—unless them Indians got to 'im first. After seein' what they did to that MacQuaid feller, I sure as hell wouldn't want to be in his shoes." He looked up. "Your move."

  "Oh yes." Clarence concentrated for a moment as a clear strategy took form in his mind. "And the stolen horse?" He kept his gaze trained on the board as he awaited Percy's answer.

  "Buck must've taken it. We rounded up all of Carter's stock, but the gambler's steed wasn't among them. Your turn, kiddo."

  "Very well." He moved his knight and sat back with a grin. "This game shall conclude in two moves."

  Percy scowled at the board, his eyes darting to and fro. "Oh yeah?"

  Clarence refrained from gloating and looked down the street to where he'd last seen Guthrie and Kate. They'd stopped in front of her place of business, and Guthrie helped her inside. Clarence remembered her telling him about a certain photograph she had of her mother. No doubt there were many things she had to share with Guthrie now. Clarence wished he could be there with them, but he knew they needed this time together. After so many years, they had much to catch up on.

  He turned back for his final move, winning the game to Percy's chagrin. Clarence would have to be patient. They would all be together again soon.

  Late that afternoon, they finally were.

  "You shoulda seen Clarence, Walter. He was such a hero!" Kate bragged on him, causing his already sunburned face to burn even more.

  They sat in Kate's room, sipping coffee that one of her girls had brought upstairs. Dr. Grant had redressed Kate's wound, and she'd refreshed herself and changed into a blue floral-print dress that hugged her figure, buttoned at the throat. It had belonged to her mother—her real mother, Guthrie's wife. Kate had neglected to reapply her make-up, and in so doing, she looked much younger, glowing with a natural beauty Clarence may have noticed once or twice before.

  "Indeed?" Guthrie raised an eyebrow and appraised his young master. "A hero, sir?"

  Clarence squirmed. "Uh-well, not really, old boy—"

  "Aw, go on!" Kate slapped his shoulder. "He was a real General Custer, that's what he was!"

  Clarence was confused. "Who?"

  Guthrie clasped his shoulder. "Thank you for keeping her safe, Master Clarence," he said with his customary sober demeanor. "Kate has told me everything you did—going after her in the night, finding water, attending to her wound." He swallowed as his eyes became glassy. He squeezed Clarence's shoulder. "Thank you, sir."

  Clarence nodded, not really knowing what to say. He glanced at Kate, and she smiled warmly back at him. Then he blurted out, "I'd do it again in a minute."

  "I am sure you would." Guthrie nodded and rose. To Kate he said, "I shall go speak with the conductor." He almost smiled at Clarence. "She has something to tell you, sir." With that, he was out the door, shutting it behind him.

  "Tell me what?" Clarence felt confused again. He hated it when there were secrets he was not privy to. "Where in the devil is he going?"

  "Oh, Clarence—it's so exciting!" Kate was up, pacing the room (slower than usual, with her wound and all) and smiling. "I can't wait to tell you!"

  "Then please do!"

  "Alright." She calmed herself down a bit. "Well, the first thing is I'm sellin' this place to Cora, and she's gonna turn it into a boardin' house. My girls are gonna work for her if they want, or they might go work at Percy's. Anyhow, the best part is that Walter and me are goin' to Boston, and we're gonna live there!" she almost squealed in delight. "And we want you to stay with us for as long as you can. Ain't that grand?"

  Clarence found himself speechless. It sounded absolutely delightful. But despite the joy of the moment, there were two concerns that weighed heavily on his mind.

  "What do you say?" She grasped his shoulder. "Ain't you happy?"

  "Of course I am, Kate. This is wonderful news!"

  She eyed him closely. "Alright then. Spill it."

  "What?"

  "Something's botherin' you, I can tell. You don't live through a few life and death experiences with a fella and not get to know the look on his face when he's worried."

  He shrugged. "It's just—I was thinking about school this autumn—"

  "Ain't you done with your schoolin' yet?"

  "Uh-I have a year or two left, actually."

  Her eyes widened. "Kids stay in school that long where you're from?" She chuckled. "Hell, I don't know anybody who's lasted longer than six years at it. But I guess things are different out here in the West."

  "I suppose so
." Truth be told, however, the idea of already being finished with his education greatly appealed to Clarence. "And then there's the matter of the horse I borrowed. I'm afraid the owner may send another gunslinger after me—"

  She placed a finger on his lips and shook her head. "Don't you fret none, Clarence. We're leavin' all this behind, all in the past. No gunslingers, no Indians, no lynch mobs to worry about anymore, alright? We're gonna start over in Boston with a clean slate. You, me, and Guthrie."

  He gazed into her gorgeous blue eyes and nodded. It all sounded very good to him. Her smile faded as she met his gaze, seeming to search for something. Then without warning, she kissed him, pulling him close.

  This time, he didn't faint.

  "Kate, Master Clarence—" Guthrie burst into the room. "Quickly. The train is leaving."

  Clarence nearly spit out his coffee. "Wha-haa?"

  "It's leavin' now?" Kate stood up in alarm.

  "Yes." Guthrie tossed Clarence his valise and turned to Kate. "Do you have any luggage? The next train back to the East will not arrive for another month. We must hasten if we are to catch it."

  "What about—?" Clarence turned to Kate and gestured toward her injury. "Are you fit to travel?"

  She winked at him. "Just a flesh wound. I've had worse."

  "Well then, in that case…"

  "We must gather our belongings," Guthrie offered.

  Kate set about packing as fast as she could. Clarence clutched his valise and stood, watching as Guthrie helped her toss items into the suitcase she had retrieved from beneath her bed.

  "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  Guthrie turned. "Yes, sir. Keep that train from leaving."

  Clarence nodded. "Quite." He got as far as the door before stopping. "Uh-how exactly, old boy?"

  "Stall 'em!" Kate threw over her shoulder.

  "Yes." He nodded again. "I shall do my best."

  Chapter 52

  Leaving Guthrie and Kate to pack, Clarence headed down the street, surprised to find everyone in town rushing to and fro, whooping, hollering, firing guns into the air, and waving to those who were leaving on the train. Clarence recognized one man—a very tall, lanky fellow—as being the train conductor from their trip westward.

  "Please let me through!" Clarence shouted, charging headlong through the raucous mob, shoving people aside as he hugged onto his valise and ran toward the train. "Wait!" he hollered as he drew near. "Please!"

  With a frown, the conductor stepped down from the locomotive onto the platform to face the oncoming Englishman. "Yes?" he drawled.

  Clarence skidded to a halt and caught his breath. "You-you must wait, please," he gasped.

  "You want to board?" The man had a thick, slow voice, and his craggy facial features reminded Clarence of the late Abraham Lincoln.

  "Board? Yes-yes, but—"

  "Well then, climb on up, son. We have a schedule to keep. We can't afford any delays." With a sweep of his long arm, he pointed at the engine that had recently arrived, now coupled to the caboose. "They've just got here, and they're going to hitch us clear back to the Dumas station. Good thing you made it on time. We'll be leaving in just a few minutes."

  He droned so slowly when he spoke, Clarence knew that if he could just keep the man talking, Guthrie and Kate would have enough time to make it.

  "Uh-I say, Dumas?" Clarence said quickly, just as the conductor climbed onto the train. "Where—?"

  "That's right," he droned. "Dumas station."

  "But I thought we were headed to Boston."

  "We are. This engine—" Slowly, he pointed again. "—is taking us to Dumas. From there, we'll head back east to Boston, by way of Tulsa, St. Louis, Akron," he droned on, counting off each city on his long fingers, "Cleveland, and Albany." He stared down at Clarence. "Are you comin' aboard or not, lad?"

  "Uh..." Clarence glanced over his shoulder, but there was no sign of his friends. He thought quickly. There had to be a way to stall the train, but his mind was suddenly a blank. All he could think of doing was dancing a jig.

  "I say, my fine fellow, have you ever seen an Englishman jig?"

  "Can't say that I have," the melancholy conductor drawled.

  "You haven't? Well then, you most certainly have missed one of the most spectacular spectacles the world has ever seen! Here—" He quickly set down the valise. "Allow me to demonstrate."

  Taking one more look over his shoulder in the hopes that Guthrie and Kate would come upon the scene and save him from this self-imposed embarrassment, he swallowed what pride he had left and gave a sudden whoop: "Rah-HA!"

  Then he was in the air, elbows swinging, hips jerking, heels clicking, tongue wagging, hair flopping, eyes popping—but no matter what he did, the straight-faced conductor never cracked a smile or looked impressed in the slightest.

  Guthrie gripped Kate's heavy suitcase in one hand and supported her with the other, steadying her as they descended the stairs from her room. She said she was fine, but he could not be too careful. She had been shot, and after waiting this long to find his daughter, he refused to be anything but overprotective.

  "Mr. Percy and Ms. Cook are waiting outside, Kate," he said.

  She squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Walter." She had yet to address him as her father, but he supposed that would come in time. "I was hopin' I'd have a chance to say my goodbyes."

  Her girls were also waiting downstairs with plenty of hugs and kisses. "We'll sure miss you, Miss Carson," they said, each in her own way. "You been nothin' but good to us."

  Kate had tears in her eyes. "Y'all go on and make an honest livin' now, y'hear?"

  "I'll make sure they earn their keep," Cora boomed with a broad smile.

  "Me too!" Mr. Percy piped up.

  "I'm sure gonna miss you, Percy," Kate cried over the noise in the street and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his scruffy cheek.

  "Aw shucks, Kate," he said bashfully, turning red to the tips of his ears. "I reckon I'm gonna miss you, too."

  Cora had Guthrie by the neck, gripped in the crook of her arm. "Well, Hon, I guess this is goodbye—so here!" She thrust a soggy paper sack at him that dripped green gobs of a thick, foul-smelling liquid. "My stew! I remember how much you liked it!"

  "Oh..." Guthrie paled slightly at the sight but attempted a brave face. "Yes, thank you."

  "You'll look out for Silas too, won't you?" Kate made sure.

  Percy nodded. "Sure thing, Kate. Anything for you."

  She smiled warmly at him and turned to Cora, hesitating. "Thanks, Cora," she said. "For everything."

  The big woman nodded. Letting Guthrie go, she grabbed Kate in a fierce hug and bellowed, "Don't forget to write, Hon!"

  "We must be leaving." Guthrie turned to Percy and extended his hand with sincerest gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Percy."

  He met Guthrie's firm handshake. "You take care of yourself, mister—and her."

  "Pip-pip! Tally-ho! Rah-HA!!" Clarence danced in a frenzy.

  The conductor had seen enough. "Are you done yet?" he droned. "We have a schedule to keep, you know. We can't afford any delays. We've got to get over to Dumas, as they'll be expecting us to arrive on time."

  He turned slowly on his heel and headed for the engine. In a moment, the whistle blew fiercely, and smoke started billowing into the morning sky. The wheels edged forward—

  "No! Wait!" Clarence cried, grabbing up his valise and keeping pace with the engine. He could see the conductor's craggy face through the high, soot-covered window. "You must wait! Here—I'll pay you to wait just a little while longer!" He flipped open the valise and dug around for his American currency.

  "No bribes, lad. No delays. Company policy, son." The whistle blew again, loud and shrill, and the townspeople reached a crescendo in their farewells and cheers.

  "But—" Clarence desperately protested.

  "Clarence!"

  He whirled to find Kate and Guthrie heading toward him, and he almost felt relieved. This feeling was fleeting, ho
wever, for the train was picking up speed, and Guthrie seemed to be carrying both Kate and her luggage along. Clarence glanced back at the train, just as the passenger car passed him by. He could have easily jumped onto the step, but he wouldn't have considered leaving his friends behind. They were the only reason he was going to Boston, after all.

  "Do hurry!" He beckoned. Then he caught the attention of a friendly looking fellow on the passenger car. "Here!" Pointing to his valise, he swung it up, and the fellow caught it. "I'll be back for that!" He ran to his friends. "Is this it?" He reached for the suitcase.

  "Uh-yes, sir," Guthrie said. "These are Kate's belongings. All that we have is in your valise."

  Kate struggled to keep up in her dress, and Guthrie had her around the middle, her feet barely making contact with the ground as he helped her along. Clarence took the suitcase and charged after the train, finding the same fellow who'd caught his bag, now with a very intrigued look on his face.

  "Here!" With all his might, Clarence heaved it upward.

  "Got it!" the kind fellow grunted, catching it with both hands and straining to haul it into the car.

  Clarence kept pace with the caboose, glancing over his shoulder every other moment to check on Guthrie and Kate's progress. The train continued to pick up speed, and as the passenger car pulled ahead, their destination became a freight car, then a coal car, and then another freight car as each one passed by in turn. Clarence wondered if they would even make it to the trailing engine.

  He could not help but remember the last time he and his butler had chased after this very same train. It seemed like a lifetime ago, almost as if he had been an entirely different person. He had whined and cried at the time, so pathetic. The memory of it made him shake his head.

  He was different now. Faster. Stronger. Able to survive this wild American West with only a few bumps and bruises to show for it. He couldn't help but wonder if this trip had made him more like his adventurous father.