One Bright Morning

by Duncan, Alice

  “He’s hiring better people, Mrs. Bright. That man we killed last week was Jose Escobar. He was a desperado with a name for himself all over the border lands, in Texas, Mexico, and here in the Territories. There’s no telling who he’ll send after us next. We’d all be safer on my spread.”

  He hated the way Maggie’s blue eyes seemed to be pleading with them. That plea in her expression made his insides turn to soup and his brain to garbage. At least, he figured it must be garbage that urged him to fall onto his knees in front of her and beg her to come with them. He gave his head an angry shake to clear it of those absurd notions.

  “But—but this is my home, Mr. Green,” she said plaintively. “It may not be grand like your ranch, but it’s mine.”

  Jubal quelled the last of his soft feelings and his gaze went hard. “It’ll still be here when you come back, Mrs. Bright. And I don’t suppose your husband will be going anywhere.”

  He regretted his harsh words as soon as he saw Maggie’s flinch of pain. He ran a distracted hand though his hair and murmured a soft curse.

  Dan scowled a warning at Jubal, then turned to Maggie. His face lost its impassiveness when he looked at her and his expression held a compassionate smile.

  “We won’t desert you, Mrs. Bright. When this is over and you want to come back here, we’ll help you. We won’t just let the place go. That’s a promise.” He looked over to Jubal. “Right, Jubal?”

  Jubal frowned at Dan. He didn’t want to promise to bring Maggie back here. To her goddamned dead husband. But he knew he had to.

  “Yes. That’s a promise, Mrs. Bright,” he growled.

  All this time, Four Toes had been paying attention to Annie. Right now he was showing her a newly whittled toy. He hadn’t said a word so far, but he did look up at Jubal’s promise. He glanced from Jubal to Dan to Maggie and nodded.

  “They keep their word, Mrs. Bright,” he said.

  Maggie felt as though the whole world were ganging up on her. She didn’t want to leave her home. She didn’t want these men to leave her. She didn’t want to go back to being alone in her cabin in the woods. But she didn’t want to leave that cabin in the woods, either. It was the first place on the face of the earth that she felt she belonged. It was close to being the first place on the face of the earth that anybody had ever loved her.

  Besides that, what on earth was she supposed to do at Jubal’s ranch? He said he’d protect her and she believed him. But what did he expect of her in return? Did he expect her to pay him? Oh, Lord. She didn’t even know how to ask the questions she had; didn’t know how to phrase them. Still, she had to try.

  “What—what about food?”

  “Food?” Jubal and Dan exchanged a puzzled frown.

  “Yes. What about food? I believe you when you say you’ll protect us, but how will we eat? I won’t have my garden or my chickens or anything.”

  Jubal’s brows nearly met over the bridge of his nose, his scowl was so black.

  “What do you take me for anyway, Mrs. Bright? You think we’ll haul you all the way to El Paso just to let you starve to death on my ranch? It’s our fault you’re in danger. For God’s sake, there’s food there! I said I’ll take care of you. That means I’ll take care of you!”

  “I can’t pay you, Mr. Green. I have no money.” Maggie was sure he still didn’t understand what she was trying to say to him.

  With an incredulous stare, Jubal said, his voice a near-shout, “I don’t want your goddamned money, Mrs. Bright! I wouldn’t take it if you gave it to me. You saved my life! Now Mulrooney wants to kill you for it. Can’t you understand? Until this is over, I’ll take care of you! Criminy!”

  Afraid he’d grab and shake her in his fury, Jubal turned his back to the table and ran his hand through his ruffled hair once more. Good God in heaven, what kind of man did she think he was anyway?

  Maggie flinched at his ferocity, then stared unhappily at the three men for another minute or two. Then she nodded her head very slightly.

  “All right,” she whispered, barely shoving the words out past the lump in her throat.

  Then she burst into tears, jumped up from the table, and tore out through the front door and into the black night. It was all accomplished so quickly that the three men could only watch, startled, as she flung herself out of the house.

  “Mama?” little Annie said, peering at the door that had slammed shut after her mother. Annie had a puzzled expression on her piquant face, and Four Toes held her tight.

  “It’s all right, Annie,” he whispered, his voice very soft.

  Jubal lurched away from the window to charge outside after Maggie, but Dan put a restraining hand on his arm. Jubal frowned at his friend.

  “Just be kind to her, Jubal,” said Dan.

  “Well, what the hell did you think I was going to be?” spat Jubal furiously.

  Dan just shook his head. “Jubal, she’s a strong woman with a big heart, and we just busted it all to hell. Be careful what you say; that’s all.”

  “Quit growling, for one thing, Jubal,” Four Toes recommended with something close to a grin.

  Jubal cast them both an angry glare and stomped out of the house.

  The night was black as India ink and cold as winter when he stepped outside. Above the forest, stars were so thick it looked as though he could have reached up and grabbed a handful if he’d had the inclination. The moon rode at an angle in the sky, cupping bright stars in its crescent.

  Jubal didn’t take any heed of the moon or the stars until he finally found Maggie. She was sitting back on her heels beside the grave of her husband, Kenneth Anthony Bright.

  His heart lurched when he saw her kneeling there. She was staring up into the night sky and she had stopped crying, although her eyes still looked perilously bright. He was grateful to be spared more of her tears, at least.

  Although he had been angry when he left the house, when he saw her sitting there, still as stone, he suddenly just wanted to comfort her. Very quietly, he walked up until he was standing right next to her. She didn’t turn to look at him, and he didn’t know what to say to her.

  It was several minutes before either of them spoke, and then it was Maggie.

  “Kenny loved this place, Mr. Green.”

  Jubal still didn’t know what to say.

  “He hacked the clearing out of the forest and built the cabin and started the farm. He was so proud of the place. He might not have been the world’s best farmer, but he just loved it. And then he brought me here to share it with him. He gave me my baby here, Mr. Green.”

  With a tilt of her head, Maggie peered up at Jubal. Her face was papery white in the moonlight, and her big, earnest eyes looked almost black against the pallor of her skin.

  “I had Annie right here in this house, Mr. Green. Kenny was so happy.”

  Jubal cleared his throat. “I think you’ll like my ranch,” he said, hoping to make her feel better about the move. “It’s a big place. I think Annie will be happy there.” He thought his words sounded stupid, and was annoyed with himself. He never had been any good at comforting women.

  Maggie looked up at him without speaking for a couple of seconds. Then she turned her head to stare back at the sky again. Her myopic eyes blurred all the stars together and she wished she could see better. It must be really nice to be able to pick out all those individual bright spots sparkling against the dark blanket of the night. She was so unhappy that she wasn’t even embarrassed at her next confession.

  “I loved Kenny a lot, Mr. Green,” she finally said.

  Jubal didn’t want to know that, but he said, “Yeah, I’m sure you did,” rather gruffly.

  “You see, Mr. Green, Kenny was the first person in the world who ever loved me. Leaving here is like—like leaving—oh, I don’t know,” Maggie said in despair. She really didn’t know how to tell him what this place meant to her. There just weren’t enough words.

  Jubal didn’t know how to express the feeling, either, but he suddenly caug
ht it from her and he understood. Squatting down next to Maggie, he looked up into the glittering sky with her.

  “Mrs. Bright, I’m really sorry about all this. You don’t deserve what we’re putting you through. I wish we could just go away and have everything be the way it was before we got dumped on you, but we can’t.”

  Maggie’s eyes left the sky and stared at her hands, which now rested on her knees. She didn’t say anything for a long few moments.

  “But I don’t want you to go away, either, Mr. Green,” she finally whispered.

  Jubal’s head swiveled down quickly and he stared at her profile for several seconds. He inhaled a quick breath of crisp air that smelled faintly of sweet lilacs and held it in his lungs.

  Maggie lifted her head to stare into Jubal’s eyes for a long few moments. Then she looked back at the sky.

  “Is the sky this big in Texas, Mr. Green?” she asked softly.

  “It’s bigger,” he said.

  Chapter Nine

  The nearest town to Bright’s Farm was Lincoln, and it was there that Jubal bought a wagon and another mule to haul Maggie’s possessions to El Paso. She didn’t own much, so there was lots of extra room inside the wagon, even after the high chair and wardrobe were loaded.

  Maggie was almost resigned to her fate by the time they set out for Texas, although she still harbored major qualms in her heart that she didn’t dare speak aloud. She made arrangements with Sadie and Pig Phillips to take her chickens and the cow. The mule would come with them.

  Sadie was disconsolate and wouldn’t stop crying.

  “Oh, Maggie, I’ll miss you so much,” she sobbed into her hanky. Her little twin boys each clutched a hunk of their mother’s calico skirt, jabbed their thumbs into their mouths, and looked worried.

  “I’ll miss you, too, Sadie.” Maggie was uncomfortable with Sadie’s teary display, even though she was used to elaborate emotions from her friend.

  Annie seemed to be excited about the trip.

  “We go Tex,” she told the twins from the comfort of her mama’s hip. The little boys stared back at her with big eyes and continued to suck their thumbs and hold onto their mother’s skirt.

  Jubal came over to stand beside Maggie. He was ready to leave and didn’t want any delays. Sadie looked up at him with streaming eyes.

  “Please take care of her, Mr. Green,” she whimpered dramatically.

  Jubal was annoyed. He hated weepy women. He wanted to yell at Sadie and ask her what the devil she expected him to do with Maggie, anyway. Throw her off the mountain?

  He curbed his unchivalrous impulse and merely grumbled, “We will.”

  Then he turned his attention to Maggie, ignoring Sadie and her drippy face. “You ready, Mrs. Bright?” His voice was a little softer when he spoke to Maggie.

  Maggie looked around her and felt as though somebody were thrusting a sharp stake through her heart.

  “I guess so.”

  Jubal nodded and went over to the mules hitched to the wagon to make sure the harness was tight.

  Suddenly Maggie’s own eyes filled with tears, and she gave Sadie a quick hug. “Take care of your boys and yourself, Sadie. I’ll write.”

  Sadie was too overcome to do more than nod in misery. She might have thrown herself into her husband’s arms, but at the moment Pig was helping Dan and Four Toes load the wagon.

  Maggie wanted to take one last farewell look at everything, so she left Sadie to her tears and her twins and carried Annie around to the back. With almost overwhelming sadness, she peered at the new goat pen Dan and Four Toes had just finished building, and the repaired chicken coop, fixed up finally so that the chickens couldn’t escape. Only now there wouldn’t be any chickens to make the attempt. And there would be nobody here to notice one way or the other even if there had been any.

  She stared for a long few moments at the freshly spaded ground beneath the new fence where she had planned to plant flowers. There would be no flower bed for Maggie Bright now. Her throat felt thick and tight and it hurt. She suspected that she was succumbing to self-pity and didn’t admire herself for it. But her aunt had always told her that she had a weak character, so the self-pity didn’t surprise her much.

  “I was happy here, Annie,” she sighed. “I worked like the devil and was tired darned near all the time, but I was happy here. It was home.”

  “Home,” Annie agreed somberly, catching the essence of her mama’s mood.

  Maggie plodded softly over to Kenny’s grave. Ever since Kenny was laid to rest in it, she had tended it with love. She hated the certain knowledge that the ever-industrious weeds would now take it over. No matter how tired she had been, she always saw to the grave.

  “Say good-bye to your daddy, Annie babe,” Maggie whispered. A big tear slid down her cheek.

  “By-by, da,” said her obedient daughter.

  Maggie hugged her close.

  “I hope we’ll be back again, Kenny.” Maggie’s words leaked out in a thin, strangled whisper, and she laid a hand on the wooden cross that designated Kenny’s final home.

  Jubal found them there, beside the grave. He had stomped around to the back of the house to hurry Maggie up, but when he saw her staring miserably down at her dead husband’s last resting place, he stopped short. His brow furrowed in unhappiness and he was overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness.

  “Damn,” he muttered to himself. The woman was at the grave again. Jubal hated that.

  He let her stand there for another few seconds, then he shook himself like a wet dog and strode on toward her.

  “We’d better get going, Mrs. Bright,” he said brusquely.

  Maggie looked up in surprise. She had been so lost in reverie that she had forgot all about the task at hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Green. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

  “Dat’s da, Juba,” Annie said, pointing to the grave.

  Jubal didn’t say anything. He just brushed a big hand over the little girl’s soft curls and wished he didn’t feel so vulnerable all of a sudden.

  Maggie turned and began to walk to the front of her farmhouse with Jubal. Suddenly, though, she jerked on Jubal’s shirt sleeve and stopped walking. He turned to frown down at her.

  Even though she hated herself for giving into the pitiful impulse, she said, “Mr. Green, may I just take one last look inside? Just—just to remember? Please?”

  Her plea sounded pathetic the way she said it, and Jubal’s mind rebelled even as his heart squeezed for her. His mind won.

  “Make it quick,” he snapped. Then he could have kicked himself.

  Oh, well, he thought. I never did have a way with the ladies.

  “I will. Thank you, Mr. Green.”

  Maggie sounded so grateful that Jubal wanted to apologize for his earlier curtness, but he didn’t. Apologies did not come easily to his lips. He just sighed and decided to go into the house with her.

  Inside, the place looked empty, cold, and desolate now, with all traces of Maggie gone. Jubal watched her slump sadly through the few rooms and wished he could cheer her up. He wanted to tell her that his ranch in Texas was fifty times nicer than this pathetic attempt at a farm in the wilderness of the New Mexico mountains. He wanted to assure her that she could do anything she wanted to do at his place, that she could have chickens and goats and flowers and anything else she wanted, that she wouldn’t be worn out and tired all the time anymore, that he was going to take care of her.

  But, even though Jubal couldn’t fully comprehend Maggie’s sentiments about this lousy little cabin on the edge of nowhere, he understood the feeling of “home,” and he didn’t say anything at all. He only watched her say a sad good-bye to the place and wished he could help her.

  Finally Maggie took a deep breath and said, “Thank you, Mr. Green. I guess I’m ready now.” She tried to smile at him and failed miserably.

  Jubal gave her a curt nod and said, “All right, then, let’s not waste any more time.” Then he gave himself another mental
kick. His soul was getting all bruised up from the kicks he’d been leveling at it lately.

  Maggie’s voice was tight with resentment and unshed tears when she said, “I know it’s not a grand ranch like yours in El Paso, Mr. Green but it’s my home and, until you showed up, I never expected to have to leave it. It’s all I have!” That last sentence was an angry little wail, and it struck Jubal right in the heart.

  “Aw, hell, Mrs. Bright. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

  When he pulled her and Annie to his chest, Maggie tried to resist, but she couldn’t because Jubal was too strong. Then she gave up and broke down. She cried and cried, until she’d made a big dark splotch on his soft leather vest. Annie pulled on his longish, sun-streaked hair and studied it in fascination while her mama wept.

  When Maggie’s sobs subsided, Jubal asked softly, “Ready now?”

  Maggie nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Green. I’m sorry I got mad.”

  She knew, because her aunt had drilled her until she was blue in the face, that it was wrong to be angry or to make people mad. She’d been able to forget about that after she married Kenny, happily, because he was so easy-going. But she had to remember again now. Jubal Green and Kenny Bright were two different animals entirely. That was a depressing thought all by itself, let alone when combined with the reality of having to leave her only home. She sniffed her unhappiness and wished she possessed a stronger character.

  Jubal wished like the devil that Maggie would quit thanking him and apologizing to him. It bothered him a lot. Hellfire, she’d saved his life, and that charitable gesture was now costing her her home. If anybody needed to be apologized to or thanked, it was her. He didn’t even try to tell her that.

  # # #

  It was two weeks to the day after Jubal’s foolish attempt to ride Old Red that the three men, Maggie Bright, and her little daughter Annie lumbered out the gate away from Bright’s Farm on their way to Texas. Maggie had placed Ozzie Plumb’s guitar into a bureau drawer and set it gently in corner of the wagon. She tucked it up with blankets and quilts so it wouldn’t break and wondered if anybody would ever play it again.