Shifters in the Shadows
Page 25
“Looks like they lost control. Heat must have got to them,” the driver said. Brandon's life meant that he didn't have to contend with the dangers that came with something as simple as travel, so to be given such a stark reminder of how cruel the world could be was startling. He wiped the sweat away from his brow and followed the driver closer to the wagon. The driver called out, but there were no signs that anyone was alive. As they rounded the wagon he saw a few pots and pans, and some books, but other than that and an open trunk of clothes there wasn't anything significant. The horses were dead, that was clear from their still bodies, and next to them were two people, a man and a woman. Brandon lifted his hat off his head out of respect. He had no idea who they were or what they were doing in the desert but they were people all the same with hopes and dreams and feelings, and it was too sad to think that they had died out here alone.
Then, the woman coughed. Brandon and the driver rushed to her side, helping her sit up. She trembled and her face was covered with dust, and her cough was loud and hacking. Brandon left her with the driver as he went to check on the man, who was lying face down in the dirt. His hat had rolled away and his leg was at an awkward angle. Brandon placed his fingers against his neck and felt the beating of a pulse. He carefully pulled the man so that he was laying on his back and saw his eyelids crack open. The driver had pulled a canteen of water away from his belt and the woman was sipping on it hungrily, resisting the driver's attempt to pull it away from her, but when she saw that the man needed it she scrambled across the dirt and lifted his head in her gentle hands, and pressed the canteen to his lips. The clear water spilled out around his weak mouth and left clear tracks as it passed through the dust. The relief was plain to see on the woman's face and Brandon was astounded that the two of them had survived.
For a few moments there was nothing in the world to the woman apart from what Brandon presumed to be her husband, given the gold bands on their ring fingers, but soon enough she looked around and became aware of their presence. Brandon smiled at her and she smiled back sheepishly, pushing back a few loose strands of hair.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You're welcome, you're lucky we were passing through. I don't know how much longer you'd have survived out here, and you should thank that man in particular for spotting your wagon. What happened to you? I'm Brandon by the way.”
“I'm Jill, and that's Jim,” she said. Her eyes darted around nervously but she seemed calm now that she knew Jim was alive. She remained sitting with his head on her lap, stroking it tenderly. Even though their clothes were torn and they were covered in bruises and dust, there was something beautiful about the two of them, like they shared something that had always passed Brandon by. “A pleasure to meet you Brandon,” her voice was still weak and rough. Now that Jim was stabilized she took long gulps from the canteen herself, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and then looking a little embarrassed at her gluttonous behavior. “I don't really know what happened. We were out here riding and the heat was beating down on us. We ran out of water a ways back so we were trying to find a river or a stream or something, but there wasn't another soul around. No sign of life at all. We were weary, and so were our horses, bless em. Every time I blinked my eyes kept getting heavier and heavier, and I guess I must have fallen asleep. I don't know about Jim. Suddenly I felt a big jolt. I opened my eyes and we were tumbling down that hill. I guess the horses were just so tired they missed their step or something, and I tried to hold on but the whole thing took me by surprise and I was flung from my horse. I rolled down and then here we are. Thank you so much Brandon, if you hadn't come along I dread to think what would have happened, well, I guess we would have been dinner for those old birds up ahead.”
As she said this she squinted up at the sky and they saw the birds circling overhead, occasionally calling to each other. Although Jill seemed to be in high spirits, given the fact that had miraculously survived this accident that, nine times out of ten, would have resulted in their deaths, there was also a sadness about her. Brandon noticed that she avoided looking at the smashed wagon a few yards away.
“Is this your stuff?” he asked, walking towards it.
“Yeah, what's left of it anyway,” she said in a small voice. There was a cracking sound as Brandon's feet walked over the small stones of the dusty desert. Sweat began to pepper his brow. He took out a handkerchief to wipe it away and longed for the shade comfort of his own wagon. The debris was scattered over a small area. Bits of splintered wood had cracked and the covering was torn. Brandon hauled a few planks out of the way and pulled out what had once been clothes, but now were just torn material, spoiled as the chest they were in had been broken open and the contents spilled out on the dirty world.
“What in God's name were you doing out here anyway?” he asked as he rummaged through the wreckage of their lives. Soon enough Jill pushed herself off the floor and tentatively made her way to him, where she cast a gloomy eye over what was left.
“We were on our way to Silvercreek. Heard there were opportunities there for hardworking folk like us.”
Brandon's ears pricked up at the mention of the town he had built. Had it been fate that he had come across these two lonesome, forsaken strangers. Was he their shepherd, the one that was going to take them to salvation?
“I hear there could be,” he replied coolly. Suddenly Jill fell to her knees as she found something among the wreckage, and burst into tears. Her back was turned to Brandon, so he couldn't see what she was holding, but after a few moments she rose and wailed, “It's gone, it's all gone! I have to leave this all behind,” and returned to her husband's side. Brandon glanced at her as she rushed by and couldn't imagine the trauma that had befallen these two people. He walked over to where she had been sitting and crouched down. Before him was a photograph in a frame, which was cracked. He wiped a layer of dust off the glass and saw Jim and Jill smiling happily, with a beautiful little baby in between them. Brandon's heart broke in that moment for there was no baby with them, and it didn't take much to understand why they had left their old life. Without thinking about it he slipped the photo from the frame and tucked it into his pocket.
“Are you sure you don't want to search through this and take anything with you?” Brandon asked Jill. She shook her head and sniffed back some tears.
“This is all a sign that we should leave all that behind. And where are we going to take it to? Our horses are dead, we have no wagon. We're just going to be left here to die.”
“Now now, do you really think I'm the kinda man to leave two lost souls in the desert? You two are going to come back with me-”
“We don't want to be any trouble,” she said, and Brandon could see in her eyes that she had not been used to kindness, or experienced anything good for a while. He saw the sadness and the melancholy that resided within her soul, and his heart went out to her, to them both.
“You won't, honestly. I actually live in Silvercreek and you're not too far away. I'll take you there myself and I have a house that's far too big for me so you can stay there while you get settled, and while your husband recovers. To be honest you'll be doing me a favor; I could use the company.” She looked at him for a few moments, as though she was trying to figure out if he could be trusted or not. But then her eyes scanned the empty horizon and she knew that even if she had doubts she didn't have any choice.
“That's mighty kind of you sir, and you can be sure that me and Jim will pay you back for everything.”
“None of this sir stuff please, it's Brandon,” he said with a smile, then offered her his hand to help her up. He led her to the wagon, upon which she marveled at the size of it and the comfort contained within, it was about twice the size of the wagon she and Jim had used. Brandon and the driver went back to pick up Jim, lifting the groggy man into the compartment. He mumbled something unintelligible, and with that they were on their way.
Three
During the rest of the journey Jill didn't say much to B
randon, although he tried to engage her in conversation. His questions were met with one word answers, so he quickly gave up trying to fill the silence and watched her tend to her husband. Lines of worry were etched on her face and no wonder. From what he had pieced together she had lost a lot and if she lost her husband as well, well, Brandon didn't want to think about what that might drive her to do. Her hands were clasped around her husband's, and she whispered comforting things to him. In truth Brandon was seriously worried about the man. There weren't many men who could have survived a fall like that and even if they got him to a doctor quickly it was likely that Jim wouldn't make it through the night.
The journey back to Silvercreek took another couple of hours. When the buildings crested over the horizon and became visible Brandon nudged Jill and urged her to lean out of the side of the wagon to see the place of their destiny. As she leaned out the wagon took a turn, and she almost fell out. She yelped and held onto the side. Instantly, instinctively, Brandon's hands caught her waist, and for a moment he felt her slender figure in his arms. A moment of electricity passed through him as he pulled her back in. She settled next to her husband.
“So how did you come to live in Silvercreek?” she asked, nervously brushing hair away from her wan face. Brandon wondered if she had ever had any man's hands on her other than Jim's.
“Actually there is something you should probably know about me,” he began. “I'm sure you've noticed that this wagon is pretty nice, and while I don't like boasting about it to folks I'm something of a wealthy man. My grandfather and father and, well, it went back beyond those two as well, all the men in my family were shrewd people who made some good deals and invested in the right businesses at the right time, so when my father died I inherited all his land and his holdings and his stocks, and I never had to work a day in my life.”
“Sounds like you were pretty blessed,” Jill said, trying to hide the envy in her eyes. This was a woman who had toiled and struggled every day of her life and what had it left her with? Just a husband who might be dying and a broken wagon filled with memories that were left out in the desert.
“Some might say that, but it's a hard legacy to live up to. There are some things a man needs to do to build a reputation but when I had everything handed to me on a silver platter like that people don't have much respect. So I wanted to do something to prove to them that I'm cut from the same cloth as the men before me. First thing is I tried to go into politics, figured that if I started making proper decisions that affected people's lives they'd have to see me for myself, not as the son who didn't have to try for anything.”
“Is that how you came to be in Silvercreek? Are you the mayor or something?”
“I'm getting to that, don't you worry. Well, the thing is I tried doing that when I was much younger. Too young really. People just laughed me out of office. In hindsight I realize that I rushed it and wanted everything too soon, so after that I decided to take my time and wait for the right project to show that I could do something just as good as my forefathers. Then it hit me. I saw how there was starting to be too many people in the world but there's all this land around. I owned a lot of it and there were a lot of people who wanted to buy it from me to set up ranches and things but before he died my father gave me one piece of advice. He told me that you never sell land, no matter what, that the dirt under your feet is the most important thing in the world, and people will always want it. But it seemed useless to me, just sitting out there doing nothing, and it always felt to me that my ancestors were the ones who had it easy. They were the ones who were there when the country was being built, they had a hand in it and I didn't have those same opportunities. Then it hit me, all I had to do was build a town myself. I just needed some buildings and the promise of jobs and opportunities and I knew that people would come. I wanted to make a paradise of a town, an Eden in the desert, a place that people could look to and say, 'Brandon Grayson built that town'. And I knew then and there that I was going to use my fortune to build a town, and that was how my name was going to be remembered.”
“You just decided to build a town? Just like that?” Jill said, finding it difficult to fathom the sheer amount of wealth it must have taken for Brandon to set up an entire settlement.
Brandon shrugged. “It was a good idea it was just getting the niggling details sorted out, and I suppose in the end it did cost me more than I anticipated but I still have enough money to get me by, but more importantly I've built a town that is filled with good people, much like yourself. You were obviously drawn to Silvercreek for a reason?”
“Like I said, we needed a new beginning, and we'd heard good things about Silvercreek from people passing through.”
“I'm glad that good words of my town are spreading. Where was it that you were leaving?”
“We owned a small ranch outside of Red Rock. We had the forest to our backs, a wide river gurgling around us, and the town to the left. It was a good little patch of life,” she said, her voice growing smaller as she reached the end of the sentence.
“What happened?”
“There was a fire. It spread through the forest. We didn't even see it,” she said, and her eyes glazed over with the look of a woman who was lost in the past.
“Well, like you said, you have the chance for a new beginning now, although Silvercreek isn't exactly what you're used to. We're more of a mining town than anything else, but I'm sure we can find something for you folks to do. But like I said, first thing’s first is you need to get better. You've been through a lot. Not many can say they've walked away from an accident by that. You must be blessed by the Lord.”
“He owes us,” she said tightly, and that put an end to the conversation. Brandon looked out of the window and thought about how protected he had been in life, how he had been born to privilege and had not known any of the struggles that plagued Jill and Jim. When he first decided to build Silvercreek, he wanted it to be a place where people could come and feel safe, where they could escape the troubles of the world and live freely, as was the right of every person, and he was glad that he had encountered the two of them because they sure could use what Silvercreek offered.
Four
The wagon rolled along the dusty road. The sound of the horses' hooves clopping against the ground was only punctuated by Jim's moans and groans. Each one was met with a concerned look from his wife, so she didn't see the big sign as they came into town that had Brandon's name emblazoned upon it, almost as large as the name of the town itself. As Brandon's wagon moved through town people stopped and stared at him. He waved out of the wagon but rarely did anyone actually return the gesture, and this Jill did notice for she was curious about her new home. She peered out of the corner of the window and saw the various shops open for business, as well as the saloon. There was the sheriff's office too, and miners walking along with their pickaxes and shovels slung over their shoulders, soot-covered faces glistening with sweat. Hard workers with hard lives. A woman walked along the streets with two children in tow, while outside the general store two old men were sitting on rocking chairs, setting the world to rights. It wasn't like Red Rock but this was their new home, and as much as Brandon had talked of his paradise it certainly didn't seem that way to Jill, but then again she never thought that a town could be built on money. It was the kinda thing that had to be built on the blood and sweat and tears of people.
But before she delved into the inner workings of the town she had a husband to take care of. The wagon was parked outside the doctor's place and Brandon helped Jim out, announcing himself loudly to the doctor. Doc Brown was an old man with a thick white handlebar mustache, piercing blue eyes, and reddish skin. He was completely bald and tall. He scared Jill a little, for this doctor was very different than the kindly, gentle one she had known back in Red Rock. Brandon quickly told him what happened after introducing the doctor to Jill, and Jill had to watch on with worry as her husband's limp body was placed on a table. The doctor took his stethoscope out and bega
n to listen to Jim's body. The chest was rising and falling steadily but it was clear that the man was weak, and when his shirt was ripped open Jill gasped when she saw the state of his bruised body.
The doctor glanced at Jill. “I have to say that this man has been through a lot, and if you had been out in that desert any longer I don't know if he would have made it, but I think he's gonna pull through. I'm going to need to keep him here for a while to make some casts and make sure that his bones will set properly. But before you go I'm gonna take a look at you,” he said, and quickly examined Jill, who didn't like being put under the microscope like that. The doctor prescribed her plenty of rest, food, and drink, and ordered her to leave while he tended to Jim. While Jill was loathe to leave her husband, she didn't have the strength or courage to argue with the doctor, and soon found herself being led away.
“Let's get you back to the house and cleaned up. Doc Brown is the finest physician in the state and he's in good hands,” Brandon said as he went back to the wagon. The two of them traveled through town and made their way to his house. It was on the outskirts of town, away from the main street, and when she saw it her eyes popped for it was basically a mansion. Brandon noticed her reaction and looked a little sheepish.