She was remembering everything as she looked around and tried to determine exactly where it all had been. It was with a distant, aching fondness that she recalled the years she’d spent here as Kenny’s wife. More clear to her was the memory of that bleak February day when she was in the throes of a vicious headache and a gunshot stranger banged at her door with the butt of his rifle. She shook her head.
The clearing smelled acrid, bitter, like old, burned wood, and her heart hurt. She recalled when she used to stand outside her door, breathing the crisp mountain air that always seemed to have an overlay of clean, freshly chopped wood. She loved that smell. Those days were gone forever, she guessed. Or at least until unstoppable Nature took over, healing the scars that stupid men had left behind, softening the rubble with vegetation, creating new life on the ruins of the old.
“Life is really strange, the way it works, Annie,” she whispered to her little girl.
Annie didn’t respond.
Maggie slowly walked to where the back of the house would have been and tried to determine where the wood pile used to be. She remembered finding Ozzie Plumb draped over it and a little burst of left-over fear shot through her and almost immediately dissipated. That had been a terrible night, to be sure.
When he watched Maggie slowly pick her way over to Kenneth Anthony Bright’s grave and squat down beside it, Jubal thought his heart had just been hacked in two.
But she didn’t linger long by the grave. She whispered a soft, “Thank you, Kenny Bright. Thank you for saving Four Toes. And you were right. Annie and I are going to be fine now. Jubal’s ranch is a wonderful place for us both. You were so good to us, Kenny, and I’ll always love you.” She sighed when she said, “I wish I could keep up your grave for you, but Annie and I have to go back and live in Texas now. I just came to say good-bye.”
She knelt there for another minute or two and then said, “I guess it’s all right. I guess you don’t confine yourself to this silly little piece of dirt.” She smiled at that happy realization.
Kenny’s spirit—or maybe it was her imagination—whispered to her soul that it was all right. He was happy for her, and he would always love them both. Maggie smiled again.
And then she picked herself and her daughter up and strode firmly toward her husband. She smiled at Dan, who helped her back onto the seat of the wagon and then remounted his horse.
“Thank you, Jubal,” Maggie said pleasantly. She felt really good now.
Jubal blinked at her.
“That’s it?”
Maggie nodded. “That’s it. I just wanted to say good-bye.”
Jubal didn’t figure he’d better argue. He was too relieved. He just shook the reins and the two mules began a slow turn-around in the clearing.
Annie waved good-bye to the remains of her first home as the mules began the weary trudge back to El Paso. Maggie looked back at the clearing until it was out of sight. Then she sighed.
“Well, that’s that.”
Jubal eyed her suspiciously. He wasn’t used to good things lasting any more than Maggie was, and he didn’t altogether trust her, “that’s that.”
Maggie noticed his uneasy glance and smiled at him. She reached out to caress his cheek.
“I guess since we’re going to be starting a family at your ranch pretty soon, I just needed to say good-bye to my old life, Jubal. It sort of came on me sudden-like, the need to say good-bye.”
Jubal grunted and turned his attention to the mules. Annie was sleepy, so Maggie laid her down in the wagon bed to rest. They had ridden nearly another mile before Jubal realized what Maggie had said. Then his head whipped around and he pinned her with a hard stare.
“What?”
Maggie was startled. “What what?”
“What did you say?”
“About wanting to say good-bye?”
“No. Back there. About a family.”
Maggie smiled a bit wickedly. “Oh,” she said with a soft, sly little chuckle, “didn’t I mention that?”
“Mention what?” Jubal was glaring at her now.
“Mention that Annie is going to be having a little brother or sister in about eight months?”
Jubal could only stare at her for several seconds. Then he whispered, “Oh, my God,” dropped the reins, and grabbed his wife.
Dan rode up at a dead run, scared to death when he realized the mules were wandering. When he saw Jubal and Maggie in a fierce embrace, he seemed torn between anger and amusement.
“What the hell’s going on with you two?” he hollered.
Jubal reluctantly let go of his wife and turned a face toward his oldest friend that held an expression Dan had never seen there before.
“What’s going on?” he asked again. He sounded confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Not a thing,” said Maggie primly.
“Not a goddamned thing, Danny,” Jubal confirmed. “Everything’s just perfect.”
One Bright Morning Page 39