Amanda's New Beginning: Contemporary Romance

by Sandee Keegan

  Time dripped miserably by. All I could do was wait. I tried to occupy my time by walking around Uncle Hayes cabin and exploring whatever items I could find. I ended up in the bedroom. The bedroom was very small and only held a bed. “Uncle Hayes, you sure aren’t a materialistic person,” I sighed and sat down on the bed. When I did something hard pressed into my bottom. “What?” I asked and stood up. I pulled back a heavy brown quilt and saw a bare mattress. I placed my hands on the mattress and pressed down. “What is that?” I asked feeling what felt like a bag full of hard rocks. I studied the mattress and saw a rip that had been sewn up with skilled hands. That’s when my mind latched onto an answer. “Oh…gold,” I whispered. “Uncle Hayes must be hiding his gold all over this cabin.” I quickly covered the bed with the brown quilt and walked back into the living room. As I did Simon let out a loud, painful, moan.

  “Lori!” Simon suddenly cried out and twisted his face into a horrible knot. “No…Lori…stay back…stay back!”

  My heart began to race. I knew Simon was clearly delirious but I felt an urgent need to reply to him. “Uh…it’s…alright, Mr. Johnson…you’re talking in your sleep.”

  “Lori…stay back…don’t go near the window…stay back!” Simon cried out again. His poor face was twisted in misery and pain. “Lori…no…”

  “It’s…” I began to say but stopped talking. What was I supposed to tell a man who couldn’t hear me? Was I supposed to tell him it was alright? That would be a lie. Whatever dream was torturing Simon’s mind was one that I could not understand. Any words spoken by my mouth would be spoken in a selfish attempt to calm the man in order to comfort my nerves. “Hurry, Uncle Hayes.”

  “Lori…no…stay away from the window…no …”

  My eyes fell on Simon’s face. To my absolute shock, I saw tears begin to stream down his cheeks—painful tears breaking loose from a destroyed heart. “Oh my,” I gasped. I dropped down to my knees and touched Simon’s tears. “Don’t be upset Mr. Johnson,” I whispered, “everything is going to be okay. My Uncle has gone to get a bottle of whiskey to clean your wound…and we’ll get you to see a doctor…somehow. Please, don’t be upset.”

  Simon grew silent and slowly stopped moving his head back and forth. He moved his right hand until it touched mine, and then…he slowly opened his eyes and looked up into my beautiful face. “Lori,” he whispered in a miserable cry.

  “I…” I began to tell Simon my real name but something inside of my heart told me to pretend I was the woman he kept calling for. “Yes, I’m Lori,” I whispered and placed a gentle smile to my lips. “You need to rest now.”

  “Lori,” Simon whispered and then collapsed.

  “Oh dear,” I said and felt Simon’s forehead. The man was burning up. “Oh dear…oh dear…” I whispered and hurried to the front door, opened it, and looked out into a dark and cold night. An icy promise of death stared back at me. I slammed the front door shut and ran to the fireplace. “Stay away from me!” I screamed. The warm books filled with fancy words no longer spoke in my mind. I was gripped with absolute fear and spoke as a desperate woman would speak. “Don’t you come into this cabin.”

  To my horror, the doorknob on the front door began to turn. I froze. My body refused to move. In my mind I saw a dark figure holding a black rifle slowly opening the door; a man with no face or soul. When Uncle Hayes appeared I nearly fainted. “What’s all the yelling for?” he asked me in a panicked voice. “Is Simon Johnson dead?”

  “Oh, Uncle Hayes,” I burst into tears. I ran across the living room and hugged Uncle Hayes. “Oh, I’m so grateful your back!”

  “Now, now,” Uncle Hayes told me in a voice that was half frozen, “I wasn’t gone no longer than I expected. It’s okay, Niece. There’s no need to be so upset.”

  “I was so scared,” I cried, holding on to Uncle Hayes. “I was afraid you would never come back.”

  “Oh, now,” Uncle Hayes put a loving arm around me and walked me over to the fireplace, “you’re my family. I would never desert you. I came to town and fetched you, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” I said and wiped my tears.

  Uncle Hayes forced a smile on his face. He reached into his coat and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “The Norris Boys must still be drinking it up because Old Nate wasn’t home. I managed to get in and out of his place in no time at all.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  Uncle Hayes pointed at Simon. “Well, no sense in wasting time. That man has an ugly wound that needs to be cleaned.” I nodded my head and hugged Uncle Hayes again, so grateful that he was finally back. My eccentric uncle wasn’t so eccentric after all—not at all. Instead, he was becoming my hero.

  Chapter Four: Words on a Cold Day

  Three days passed. On the second day a hard, cruel, snow began to fall. The snow covered the land and turned it icy and white. Nothing was moving, which made Uncle Hayes very happy. As long as people were snowed in, no one would come traveling to his cabin in search for Simon Johnson. Of course, Uncle Hayes told me no one ever came traveling to his cabin anyway, but the snow was a surefire way to make sure no one wouldn’t even if they wanted to. Yes, the snow made Uncle Hayes a happy man even though it made me feel cold and lost. It wasn’t that I had never seen snow before. It snowed on my parent’s farm nearly every winter. It was simply that the falling snow felt strange, alien and angry; the snow that covered my parent’s farm was always friendly, familiar and cozy. But, if the snow was keeping Hank Norris and his sons locked in town then so be it. My personal feelings didn’t matter.

  “Uncle Hayes?” I asked running a spoon through a bowl of hot beans.

  Uncle Hayes raised his head and looked at me. He studied the green dress I was wearing and smiled. “It’s nice to see a pretty young lady that takes care of herself the way you do, even in a situation like the one we’re in. Your folks raised your right.”

  “Oh, I just threw this dress on and ran a brush through my hair. If I were back home on the farm I would be in my work dress right now,” I blushed.

  Uncle Hayes smiled again. “What did you want to ask me?”

  I looked over at Simon. “Is that man going to die?”

  “Hard to say,” Uncle Hayes replied and took a bite of his beans. He sat silent for a minute and listened to the winds howl outside the cabin. “I always wanted to die in the spring,” he finally spoke. “Yes sir, when the flowers are blooming and the air is fresh. There’s something…well, unfriendly about dying when the weather is cold.”

  I looked down at my bowl of beans. The beans were actually decent tasting and very filling. I liked beans, too, even though I fussed every time my mother cooked them. My stomach simply wasn’t in the mood for food. “His fever is down. I guess that’s a good sign.”

  Uncle Hayes nodded his head. “I reckon so,” he said and studied Simon. “Niece, I’d say that fella has a good chance at living again. Now, don’t take my word for that because I’m no doctor. But my gut tells me he might pull through.”

  “I feel the same way,” I confessed. I put down my spoon and picked up a cup of coffee and took a sip. “Coffee is delicious.”

  “So are the beans but you don’t seem interested. Are you not feeling well?” Uncle Hayes asked me.

  “Oh, I feel okay,” I told Uncle Hayes.

  “What’s eating at you, Niece? It’s sure not the beans.”

  I took another sip of coffee. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that man,” I said. “I keep thinking about the other night when I saw tears come from his eyes. Uncle…a man can’t cry unless he has a heart.” I sighed. “Simon Johnson is a hurt man.”

  Uncle Hayes worked on his beans. “I reckon even a killer can have tears.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, “but, I believe that man isn’t a killer. He kept…well, he kept…”

  “He kept what?” Uncle Hayes asked me. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Niece, there’s no secrets between us.”

  “I know, Uncle Hayes,” I si
ghed again. I looked at Simon. “That man kept calling out the name…Lori. The woman could have been his wife?”

  Uncle Hayes put down his coffee and rubbed his beard with his right hand. “Lori?” he said and mused over the name like a man studying a confusing puzzle. “I can’t say that name rings a bell.”

  I put down my coffee. “Mr. Johnson said, ‘Stay away from the window, Lori,’” I told Uncle Hayes in a sad voice. “Maybe…the woman was killed somehow? He sure seemed distressed.”

  Uncle Hayes nodded his head. “A man can become distressed over a lot of things in this land.”

  I looked at Uncle Hayes. “Uncle Hayes, what do you know about Simon Johnson?” I asked.

  Uncle Hayes leaned back in his chair. “Oh, just what I heard. The man is a gunfighter with twenty deaths notched on his gun belt. He began gun fighting…oh…ten years ago, give or take a year, I suppose.” Uncle Hayes rubbed his beard. “That means he’s killed two men a year, Niece…real mean men who would make a rattlesnake run under a hot rock.”

  “You’ve heard stories and rumors about Simon Johnson but never met the man yourself?” I asked.

  “Goodness no. I ain’t ever met Simon Johnson for a whole second in my life,” Uncle Hayes exclaimed. He pointed a stern finger at me. “A man stays alive out here by minding to his own affairs and keeping his nose out of mud.”

  “I can see that,” I told Uncle Hayes.

  Uncle Hayes looked at his finger and lowered it. He shook his head at himself. “After my wife was taken by the cancer I drifted for a while and ended up in this part of the land. Flat Brush was just a watering station and I liked it that way just fine. But then Hank Norris came along and messed up the land. He brought blood, violence, and death. I learned a long time ago to stay out of his way if I wanted to stay alive. Call me a coward if you want, but I ain’t no gunfighter. And even if I were, I sure couldn’t go up against Hank Norris and his sons, or the hired guns on his payroll. No sir, an animal learns to stay in his hole and only come out when it’s safe.” Uncle Hayes sighed. “I guess I ain’t much in your eyes. I’m sure sorry for that.”

  “Why? Because you don’t go around carrying a gun and killing people?” I asked Uncle Hayes. “Why, I think it takes more courage to live out a peaceful life than it does to put on a gun and kill.”

  “Those are kinds words, Niece, but the truth is out here a man either wears a gun or he dies,” Uncle Hayes explained. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “The land makes people hard,” he continued. “I don’t know why, but the land draws killers and outlaws and the worst kind of varmints that your mind can imagine. Why, two years ago the Murray Gang shot up High Falls, killed four men, and rode out as free as a song because the men in that town turned yellow at the sight of them. Marshall Dalton ended up forming a posse and going after them but by then it was too late, the Murray Gang was already down in the New Mexico Territory. No man was willing to go that far. Yes sir, this land draws the worst mankind has to offer this old world. Men like myself, well, we just keep our heads low and our mouths shut.”

  “That’s a good way to be,” a weak voice spoke.

  “Uncle!” I exclaimed and ran into the living room. I saw Simon staring up at the ceiling. “Uncle, he’s awake…his eyes are open!”

  “Now calm down,” Uncle Hayes told me shaking two nervous hands at me. “Let’s not get excited.” Uncle Hayes approached Simon. “Uh…how are you feeling?” he asked.

  Simon swallowed. “Thirsty.”

  “Niece, get a glass of water.”

  I hurried into the kitchen, poured water into a coffee cup, and took it the water back to Uncle Hayes. “Here you are.”

  Uncle Hayes bent down and placed the cup of water to Simon’s parched lips. “Easy now,” he said and began helping Simon sip some water. Simon took a few sips and then nodded his head. “Good,” Uncle Hayes said in a relieved voice.

  “Thank you,” Simon said in a weak voice. He shifted his eyes over to me. “Lori was…my wife…”

  “Oh,” I said in a startled voice realizing that Simon had been lying awake listening to Uncle Hayes and myself talking. “I…I assumed.”

  “She was shot,” Simon told me. “We…were married…for two years…she was shot.”

  “Try and rest,” Uncle Hayes told Simon.

  Simon locked eyes with Uncle Hayes. “The Norris Brothers…they’re close.”

  “Yes sir, they are,” Uncle Hayes told Simon. “Hank Hayes and his sons live outside of Flat Brush a ways. But there’s a snowstorm hollering around outside. Ain’t nobody moving. My guess is Hank Norris and his boys are back at his ranch sitting around a warm fire.”

  “My…gun?” Simon asked.

  “In the bedroom under the bed,” Uncle Hayes told Simon. “I took your gun belt off when you arrived.”

  “Thank you,” Simon told Uncle Hayes. “More…water please.” Uncle Hayes helped Simon drink more water. “I’ll be better in a day or two. Thank you…for letting me rest here.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Uncle Hayes told Simon. He studied the man with curious eyes. “I heard you were a mean killer. I heard you got twenty men notched on your gun belt too. Is that so?”

  Simon stared up at Uncle Hayes with eyes that scared me. “Mister, I killed men who were on my land the night Lori was killed—men Albert Gilmer sent to kill me.”

  Uncle Hayes rubbed the back of his neck. “Mr. Johnson, are you trying to tell me you aren’t the deadly gunfighter people make you out to be?”

  Simon shook his head no. “I went after the men who killed my wife…me and my brother…we killed them all. Albert Gilmer was the last…I shot him down like the dog he was. After that my…brother and me…rode north…the Norris Brothers…they shot and killed my brother…all we wanted was peace after our war with Albert Gilmer.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Uncle Hayes said and shook his head. “If the truth ain’t always surprising to the mind.”

  “Seven years,” Simon told Uncle Hayes, “seven long years we fought against Albert Gilmer and his men…seven long years…but we killed them…and now my wife and rest in peace.” Simon closed his eyes. “When I kill the Norris Brothers…I’ll be able to rest in peace too.”

  Uncle Hayes bent down and felt Simon’s forehead. “Your fever is down. That’s good.”

  Simon nodded his head. “I’ll be out of your hair in a day or two. I know…my being here isn’t…easy on you.”

  “Don’t think nothing of it,” Uncle Hayes told Simon and wiped his arm across his forehead.

  “Well, you did risk your life to get that bottle of whiskey to clean his wound,” I told Uncle Hayes. “You went right out into a cold night and—”

  “I did what was needed,” Uncle Hayes interrupted me and shot me an eye that begged me to hush my mouth.

  Simon opened his eyes and looked up at Uncle Hayes. “I won’t forget you…both of you,” he promised.

  “Mister,” Uncle Hayes told Simon, “forgetting me is the best thing that you can do. If Hank Norris and his boys find out I’ve been healing you, why then, they’ll gun me down for sure if they don’t horse drag me for fun first. If you really want to do me a favor then heal up and get out of here before anyone finds out you’ve been my company.”

  Simon nodded his head. “I understand.” Simon looked over at me. “Ma’am…I’ll be gone in a day or two…I promise.”

  “You’ll leave when you’re able, right Uncle Hayes?” I asked.

  Uncle Hayes rubbed his beard with nervous hands. “I reckon,” he said. “Mr. Johnson, you better rest. I’ll be sitting over at the kitchen table if you need anything.” Uncle Hayes walked back to the kitchen table and sat down. He picked up his coffee, took a sip, and looked at the front door. “This snow isn’t going to let up anytime soon. Mister Johnson, even if you heal up I can’t send you out into the cold. You can leave when the snow allows you to leave.”

  Simon closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them. He looked at me. �
��Ma’am…maybe you should put some more wood on…the fire?”

  “Huh?” I asked. I turned and studied the fire. The fire was burning low. “Oh yes, of course,” I said and tended to the chore. When I finished Simon was asleep. I walked back to the kitchen table and sat down. “Uncle Hayes, what are you thinking?” I asked.

  “I’m thinking I have to get you on the first stagecoach out of town,” Uncle Hayes told me. “But this storm ain’t gonna allow no stage to close to Flat Brush for days. All the trails are snowed over.” Uncle Hayes took a sip of coffee. “Looks like you’re stuck here for a while too, Niece.”

  “Uncle Hayes,” I said, “even when the snow clears, well,” I said in a pleading voice, “will you walk me to the next town. I don’t want to ever step foot in Flat Brush ever again.”

  “The closet down is a good walk that will wear down your feet,” Uncle Hayes warned me.

  “I would rather walk a hundred miles than ever step foot in that horrible town again.”

  Uncle Hayes understood. “I reckon it was wrong of me to agree to your wanting to visit. But family is family and, well, Flat Brush isn’t a town I call home. I figured we’d spend all the time in my mine. I sure hope your folks won’t be mad at me. I reckon they’ll have every right to be mad.”

  “I’m not going to tell my parents anything that happened here,” I promised Uncle Hayes. “I’ll go back home and…challenge the world some other time…when I’m older and more mature. Besides, even if I did return home in victory, all my parents could afford to give me was…their blessing anyway. It’s not like I would be leaving for Boston with a purse full of…money.” I felt tears sting my eyes. “Excuse me,” I said and ran into the bedroom and threw myself down onto the bed. “Life is so cruel…where is the beautiful music…all the beautiful music?” I cried.

  As I cried Uncle Hayes rubbed his beard and did himself some serious thinking. As he thought Simon lay awake with his eyes closed thinking about the Norris Brothers. Outside the winds howled and the snow fell.