Vestige of Hope

by Sara Blackard

  “He doesn’t look injured now. Why’s he still hanging around?” River asked, accusation thick on his voice.

  “After the Sweeneys showed up twice trying to take Viola, we decided to keep Hunter around. He’s right handy in a situation,” Beatrice said, throwing a wink at Hunter before looking at Viola with raised eyebrows.

  “Are you alright, Toowutchun?” River turned to Viola, his face marred in concern as he grabbed her hand in his. His childhood nickname warmed her heart with a familiar comfort.

  “I’m fine,” Viola said.

  “Why the new horse? What happened to Black?” Beatrice asked, rubbing the paint River had rode up on.

  River turned to Beatrice, who had taken his horse’s reins. “I have much to tell you both. Can we go in and talk?”

  Viola pulled her hand from his and wrung it in her apron. Would they have the questions and doubts the Sweeneys had thrown into the air finally answered? Viola suddenly didn’t want to go inside. She looked to where Hunter still stood on the porch. He met her gaze with one of strength and encouragement. He nodded sadly at her; the expression somehow told her everything would be okay, even if the news was bad.

  Viola walked toward the cabin. “I’ll go put coffee on.”

  “I’ll help River get his horse settled, then be in,” Beatrice said, her voice tinged with a subtle thread of fear.

  Viola’s legs felt wooden as she moved to the cabin, toward a conversation she wanted to run away from. Hunter grabbed her hand, stopping her as she passed.

  “Viola …,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Whatever happens, whatever this River fella tells you, I want you to know I’m here for you.”

  Viola nodded her head, her throat too tight for words to form. She pushed through fog that threatened to shut her mind down and walked to the stove. She went through the motions of making coffee as if someone else controlled her body. She didn’t want to hear what River had to say. She wanted to run through the meadow and never return if it kept her from listening to the words she feared would come from River’s mouth.

  Viola’s hand shook as she reached for the coffee mugs, rattling the stoneware. Hunter’s hand steadied hers as he stepped behind her and reached for the mug she held. The heat of him standing so close lent her comfort and strength. Without saying a word, he squeezed her shoulder, then started gathering mugs for the coffee. He then guided her to a seat as Beatrice and River came through the door. With one last squeeze on her shoulder, Hunter took a seat beside her.

  As Beatrice took the seat on Viola’s other side, Viola mentally shook the dread from her mind. She would take in whatever information River had to tell with the strength her father and mother had raised her. With that thought ringing through her head, she prayed for God to carry her in the moments to come.

  Every muscle in Hunter’s body tensed as River sat down between Hunter and Beatrice at the kitchen table. Hunter hadn’t missed the look of hunger that had been on River’s face when he approached Viola outside, or the look of happiness that overrode the look of shock upon Viola’s face at seeing him. It didn’t escape Hunter that River’s glare as Hunter seated himself next to Viola could’ve scorched a man alive. Hunter wasn’t about to cower with his tail between his legs just because some competition came into the picture. He needed to prove he could handle this time and be the man Viola needed.

  He focused on River, whose glare still hadn’t left his face. He hated to admit that River was a much better looking guy than he was, but Hunter knew a bad attitude toward an old friend wouldn’t ingratiate him to Viola. No matter what, he’d prove himself to be the better man and handle this new obstacle with the determination trained into him since high school.

  Viola cleared her throat. “You said you had some news for us.”

  River nodded. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here weeks ago, but Black stepped into a marmot hole and broke his leg. I was thrown and injured. Thankfully my grandmother’s people found me and took care of me. I left the agency as soon as I could.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about Black, but I’m glad you’re doing better,” Beatrice said, placing a hand on River’s arm. Hunter wondered what kind of relationship this man had with the Thomas family.

  “I have a letter from Orlando he wanted me to deliver. Again, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here. Orlando never intended for you to wait this long without news,” River said, regret and sadness thick in his voice.

  River took a folded paper from his pocket and extended it to Beatrice. She grabbed it from his hands and opened it, her hands shaking so much Hunter wondered if she’d be able to read it. He prayed for strength and courage for her and Viola. Beatrice closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, her hands had calmed.

  She cleared her throat and began reading. “‘My dearest Viola and Beatrice, It is with great sorrow that I write to tell you that Pa has passed on and is in Heaven with Ma.’”

  Hunter watched as shock, anger, sadness, and finally loneliness flitted across Beatrice’s face. Viola’s shoulders started shuddering as she lowered her chin to her chest, tears falling onto her hands that twisted in her apron. Hunter reached over and grabbed Viola’s hand. She abandoned destroying her apron and clutched both hands to his.

  Beatrice continued reading Orlando’s letter. “‘I found Pa north of Rawlins in the mountains toward Green River. There is much business that needs to be taken care of before winter sets in. I am hoping that with me being able to hop on a train in Rawlins, I can take care of everything in Denver quicker and be home not long after River delivers this letter. It tears me up to do this to you both, to write a letter instead of telling you in person. But I can’t risk a trip to Denver later and get snowed out for the winter’…That’s the truth. I’d much rather him go now for a bit than be gone the whole winter.”

  River rubbed the back of his hand over his neck, his voice filled with sadness. “Orlando struggled deeply with what to do. He felt terrible even writing the letter. He took it back from me three times before he finally decided to follow through and took the train to Denver.”

  “Were you with him when he found Pa?” Viola asked in a hoarse whisper.

  River nodded his head sadly and shrugged. “It looks like your pa wrestled with a bear.”

  Something in River’s voice was off. Hunter could tell he was lying, and he sharpened his eyes on River. When River glanced over at Hunter, he raised his eyebrow to silently show the man he knew there was more to the story.

  “That’s hogwash, and you know it,” Beatrice said. “Pa was just about the best mountain man ever. No bear would surprise him.”

  “I know, Beatrice,” River replied. “I didn’t believe it either, but I saw him. Helped bury him.”

  Beatrice sighed and returned to the letter. “There’s a bit more here. ‘I know this will come as a shock. I promise, I’ll be as quick as I can in Denver and hurry home. Please be careful. Always be on guard. Love your favorite brother, Orlando.’”

  River placed his hand on Beatrice’s where she flattened the letter to the table. “I’m really sorry about your pa. He was a good man, a great friend, and I will miss him until we meet again in heaven.”

  “Pa loved you like a son, River. He always cherished when you came to visit,” Viola responded, sending a clench through Hunter’s heart knowing her father probably wouldn’t have approved of him with all he lacked.

  River scrutinized the two ladies. “You two are taking this much better than I thought you would.”

  “We had a forewarning, of sorts,” Viola answered.

  “What do you mean?” River asked, concern lowering his eyebrows.

  “Those lowdown, dirty Sweeneys came by claiming Pa and Orlando were dead and demanded Viola marry that skunk Linc,” Beatrice replied, the anger of the situation still tainting her voice. “Hunter scared them away, though he was halfway near death from his … accident.”

  River’s eyes sharpened as he turned to
Beatrice, his voice sharp with disgust. “When did this happen?”

  “About a week and a half ago,” Viola answered, shivering with the horrid memory.

  “And yesterday those skunks came back. Linc tore up the place looking for Viola.” Beatrice fumed, explaining the latest situation.

  As they told River of all that had been happening, Hunter watched River’s face grow darker and darker with anger. He guessed he now had a strong ally that he might use to their advantage.

  Beatrice snorted in derision. “Linc was mad as a hornet that Viola wasn’t as easily got as he hoped. He seethed when Hunter confronted him, saying that Viola was his and no dandy newcomer was going to take what he’d worked so hard to get.”

  “A Sweeney doesn’t work hard for nothing,” River countered. He took a deep breath and regarded Hunter. “Praise God you were here, Hunter. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here.”

  “I’ll tell you what would’ve happened,” Beatrice replied harshly. “We would’ve been burying three dead Sweeneys, is what would’ve happened.”

  “Beatrice.” Viola’s hand covered her mouth in shock. “How can you say that?”

  “There is no way on this green earth that I would’ve ever let them make you marry that snake.” Beatrice stared at Viola with determination. “I would’ve killed them all or died trying if they had forced you to leave with them.”

  “I’m glad I was here then,” Hunter spoke as he placed his hands on the table around his mug. “Killing a man leaves a scar on your soul, one I hope you never have to bear.”

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t do everything you can to protect your family?” Beatrice asked, pushing her chair back and standing fast.

  Hunter looked at Beatrice, hoping all he felt showed on his face. “No, Bea, I’m not saying that at all. I’m blown away by your bravery and ability to push through the fear of a situation to do what needs done. When I asked you to take action, you never hesitated. But my hope and prayer is that you never have to bear the weight of knowing you took the life of someone, even if it was the only option available.”

  A heavy silence fell upon the room. Beatrice acted strong and unmovable, but Hunter had seen a vulnerability that might crack the thin veneer that she had created to protect herself. He prayed that if that ever happened, Beatrice would allow someone to help her.

  “Sounds as if you’re speaking from experience,” River said with a weary tone in his voice.

  “My scars are deep and numerous,” Hunter replied, pain and regret saturating his voice. “Every single one of them was justified, but they burn my conscience, none the less.”

  “That’s what separates a man following the will of God,” River said, “and a man only after his own gain. I’ve seen men kill others because it was the only choice they had and struggle for years with knowing they had to send someone to the pearly gates through force. I’ve seen others take lives without a second thought. It’s what separates good from evil, God-led from hell-bound. How is it you came to have so many scars?”

  Hunter sat in silence for a minute, then replied, “I was in the military, a special elite branch. But I’m done with that now.”

  “What brought you to Colorado?” River probed.

  Hunter peered to Viola, holding her gaze. “God did.”

  Viola’s lips tweaked up before she turned her eyes down, keeping River from seeing her chuckle. Beatrice snorted in the corner where she paced and covered it up by clearing her throat.

  River’s eyes lowered to slits, clearly not liking the answer. “How’d you end up all banged up?”

  “Well,” Hunter said. “Let’s just say I had a tangle with a lion, and he won.”

  Beatrice came to the table and slammed her palms to the surface. “Can we please get back to what’s important?"

  The three of them glanced among each other in confusion. Beatrice threw her hands into the air and turned around, muttering to herself. Viola looked at Hunter. He gazed back at her in question and shrugged.

  “If the Sweeneys knew about Pa’s death,” Beatrice huffed as she turned around and crossed her arms across her chest, “it’s more than likely they had something to do with it. We should go get them and bring them to justice. Bury them before they can do more harm.”

  “Do you want justice or revenge?” Hunter asked.

  “They’re one and the same,” Beatrice answered.

  “‘Vengeance shall be mine, saith the Lord,’” Hunter whispered the verse he’d burned into his brain when the atrocities he witnessed threatened to turn his heart to hatred.

  “Haven’t you been listening at all?” Viola asked, shock thick in her voice. “Violence never did any good, and searching out the Sweeneys to make them pay for a crime we don’t even know they did would be wrong.”

  “How could they have known Pa was dead if they didn’t do it themselves?” Beatrice demanded.

  “River said a bear got Pa,” Viola answered. She took a deep breath before continuing. “He wouldn’t lie to us if he believed different.”

  River grabbed his mug of coffee and stared into it. The move screamed that he was lying, and Hunter determined to know why before River left.

  River twisted the mug in his hand, answering without looking up. “Some animal sure got your Pa. It’s not a sight I wish to see again.”

  “But how did they know he was dead? Did you or Orlando tell anyone?” Beatrice fairly yelled. “At least let’s go find them and ask what they found.”

  Hunter shook his head. “That’s not strategically a smart scenario. Linc is unbalanced, and if we go in there and something goes wrong, we’d end up dead or, worse, one of you ladies might end up compromised. I won’t risk that, even when I’m up to par.”

  Beatrice huffed in frustration, whispering something about not caring about scars. Hunter chose to ignore Beatrice’s ranting and zeroed in on River.

  “We could use your help, if you’re up for it.” Hunter threw out the challenge to River with a leveling look of expectancy.

  River replied, “Anything for my friends.”

  “I need you to scout around, and find out where they stay holed up,” Hunter said, leaning forward in earnest. “I can guarantee that Linc will not give up easily. If you find them, when Orlando gets back, you can lead us to them. I’m assuming you’re good at sneaking around without getting caught?”

  River smirked. “I could cut the shirt off your back, and you’d never know where it went to.”

  “Is that all we’re going to do?” Beatrice exploded. “Sneak around and wait? We have the advantage now with River here. The extra man that puts us above the Sweeneys in numbers, and you want to wait! We should go now and hunt those varmints down.”

  Hunter urged her to understand. “Viola is decent with a firearm, and you can shoot a squirrel fifty yards out mid-jump from tree to tree with that bow of yours, but I’m not willing to chance it. If we wait for Orlando, we’ll outnumber them five to three. There’d be no way for them to get away.”

  “Just because you doubt yourself, doesn’t mean River and I couldn’t get close enough to shut them down the instant we confront them. Waiting is the coward’s way to finish this.” Beatrice seethed.

  “That’s not fair and you know it,” Viola said. “Shame on you. Hunter is thinking of this from every angle so all of us come home when this is over. Rushing into this is not only idiotic, but will get someone killed.”

  River stood, walked to Beatrice, and grabbed her clenched hands, easing his palm into hers and threading his fingers through hers. “Easy, little one. Hunter’s plan is sound. Something your father would’ve approved of.”

  Beatrice yanked her hand from River’s. Hunter recognized she was about to combust, but he didn’t know how to stop the eruption.

  “Little one?” she screeched, motioning her hands up and down her body. “It’s clear no one has realized I’m a full-grown woman, not a child anymore. I also happen to be better than anyone here at s
neaking around the woods and shooting any weapon. Waiting is just an invitation for the Sweeneys to attack, mark my words.”

  She stormed from the cabin, slamming the door so the floor shook. Her words sent a shiver of dread down Hunter’s spine. Could she be right, and waiting would only end in pain? Was he basing his plan on his weaknesses and lack of confidence? His shoulders dropped in indecision.

  River stood up and headed toward the door. “Your plan is solid and the right one to take. She’s full of grief and spitfire. I’ll go calm her down and make her see reason.”

  Hunter replied, “Be careful. The Sweeneys might be just waiting to take us out when the opportunity comes.”

  “I’ll keep vigilant and keep her safe, if only from herself.” River spoke with conviction as he left the cabin.

  Hunter hung his head as the door closed. He whispered, “Is she right? Would it be better to act now and catch them off guard?”

  Viola bristled like a mama bear defending her cub. “No, your plan is the way we should move forward. You understand what you’re doing. You’ve done this a hundred times and know how to go against an enemy force. She forgets that no matter how much more she thinks she knows about sneaking around in the woods, she’s never been up against anyone out to get her. You have, against people more dangerous than we will ever understand. I plan on reminding her of that fact when she gets her head back on straight.”

  Viola breathed deeply as she reached for the mugs and took them to the sink. Hunter knew she had to be hurting from having confirmation that her father was dead. He stood, taking his mug to the sink.

  “I’m really sorry about your pa, Viola,” he said, rubbing his hand across her shoulders, wishing he knew how to comfort her.

  She looked at him, tears suspended from her lashes. She nodded once, then threw herself into his chest, burying her face in his shoulder. Hunter wrapped his arms tightly around her, lending her his strength. Her shuddering body broke his heart. He prayed he would spend the rest of his life with her in his arms.