Colby's Child

by Patricia Watters

  “You’d better have proof of your claim, Bishop,” Jason said, keeping his back to the men, “and if you don’t have the paperwork with you, I’ll take it as a direct challenge.”

  Bishop gave a short, snort of disdain. “We don’t need paperwork, Colby. You’re already a dead man. There are five of us and one of you. The best you can do is take out two of us, but there will still be three left to take you down.”

  Jason sucked in a long, slow breath to steady his nerves and heighten his reflexes while slowly curving his left hand around the butt of his gun. Tightening his fingers around the triggers, he turned quickly. A series of flashes... A succession of sharp, whip-like cracks... Several high-pitched screams... And the next moment, Bishop and Beckett lay collapsed on the floor. The remaining men stood in stunned silence.

  When Jason saw that the men had no intention of challenging him, he walked over to where the fallen men lay. With the tip of his boot, he rolled Bishop onto his back. Bishop stared at the ceiling with blank eyes. Beckett lay on his side. Jason bent over and pressed his fingers to Beckett's neck. Feeling no pulse, he knew Beckett was also dead.

  Two men rushed through the entrance to the saloon, and Jason recognized them as more of Jack Bishop’s men. They acknowledged the three men standing then looked at the dead men. With backup behind them, one of the three men said to the two men who’d joined them, “We saw it all, boys. Jason Colby drew first. Those men didn’t have a chance to fire. Bishop came in to talk to Colby and Colby turned and shot him in cold blood. Bishop’s gun’s still in his holster.”

  Jason looked around to see who might have witnessed the episode and saw a frightened old prospector who stood trembling in his boots, a rotund man who refused to come out from under a table, and the barkeep, who stepped from behind the bar, his face ashen, the front of his trousers soaked with urine. Jason looked at the five men standing in the doorway. Sinewy, hard-faced, cold-eyed men whose look alone would send the cowardly trio of witnesses fleeing for their lives, leaving Jason to tell his side of the story to the judge. Bishop’s men moved aside as Jason headed out the Golden Fleece.

  As he passed the curious onlookers gathered out front—folks he’d known for years—Jason saw the doubt in their eyes and the disillusion on their faces and knew word that Jason Colby had once been a bounty hunter had already spread. Though no one spit on the ground as he passed, he nonetheless felt their disdain. Some turned away from him, others lowered their gaze, but none looked him square in the eye.

  Who among these people would vouch for a bounty hunter, the most despised man to walk the face of the earth, short of other bounty hunters who tracked down and captured men for money? None, he realized. Not even Seth, who stood a short distance from him, arms folded, mouth fixed in a harsh line of disgust. And that’s how it would stand. Though some of his past would surface during the trial, he'd withhold from Seth the details of Seth’s ignoble birth and the pretense of love of the people who’d raised him. But before he'd be called on to face a judge, he’d have to face Jenny. For Jenny’s own good she needed to sign the divorce papers, free herself from him, and leave town without delay. But he knew she’d refuse to sign the papers unless she got answers from him about her husband’s death, which he wouldn’t reveal. So it looked as if the termination of their marriage would rest on their own personal standoff.

  ***

  When Jason walked through the kitchen door, the impact of Jenny rushing at him almost knocked him down. He grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her, and when he went to move her aside she clung to him with amazing strength. “I thought you were dead,” she cried, holding onto him, tears streaming down her face.

  “Yeah... well... I’m not,” he said, pulling her arms from around his waist and stepping away from her. “I can’t say the same for Bishop and the bounty hunter though.”

  Jenny looked up at him. “They’re dead?”

  “Last I saw they were.” He arched a dark brow. “At least you won’t have to worry about Bishop's lawsuit now.”

  “You seem very cavalier about it,” she said, frowning with dismay, and perhaps a touch of disenchantment. “Had you been planning to kill Jack Bishop from the start?”

  “I didn’t plan it,” he said, “but I don’t feel any remorse either.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the tickets. “These are for you and Lily. The stage leaves tomorrow. I expect you to be on it. But first, you need to sign the divorce papers.” He went to the library and returned with the papers, which he handed to Jenny.

  She looked at the papers, then at him. A faint film of tears glistened in her eyes. “Fine then, since you’re so eager for Lily and me to go, we’ll be on that stage tomorrow. But before I sign, I want to know exactly what happened the day Myles was killed. You and Myles knew each other years ago, didn’t you.” Her face grew rigid, and the soft sheen of tears became the hard glint of a challenge as she waited for his reply.

  “I’m not going to talk about your husband,” he said. “Not now. Not ever.”

  “And I don’t believe someone shot him and disappeared that day like you claim. Did you kill Myles?” He tightened his mouth and said nothing. “Fine, have it your way.” Her face burned with anger and frustration. “But if you won’t tell me what happened then I won't sign the divorce papers. It’s as simple as that.” She slapped the papers on the table and turned to walk away.

  He caught her arm. “Don’t be a fool, Jenny. You have nothing to gain by being stubborn about this. We need to be free of each other. That was our plan from the start.”

  “Well, the plan changed. So if you have nothing more to tell me I’ll close my bags and get ready to leave. I assume you’ll take us to the stage?” she said, her voice bitter.

  “Of course.”

  “Fine. If you ever decide to tell me what was going on between you and Myles and how he really died, you can write it in a letter and send it with the papers for me to sign.” She turned and walked away without looking back.

  “Send them where?” he called after her.

  “My brother in Cedar Rapids. His address is in the top drawer of your desk in the study,” she said, her voice diminishing as she walked away.

  Jason went to the library and looked in the desk drawer and saw that Jenny had carefully printed her brother's address on a small card, which he’d pass on to his lawyer. Tomorrow, he and Jenny would sever ties, and he didn’t want to be tempted with the improbable possibility of delivering the papers to her in person some day, if he ever got out of the mess he was in right now, which was unlikely. The odds were stacked against him. But it made no difference to him now. Once the stagecoach pulled away with Jenny and Lily on it, he’d have nothing to live for.

  ***

  Jenny looked around the suite of rooms she’d called home, wondering how things could have gone so wrong. She was married to a man she loved, they’d shared the suite for five months, but they’d never shared his bed, or hers, as husband and wife. There had been unexpected intimacies in those beds at different times and for odd and unanticipated reasons, but other than their night at the hotel in Central City, and their lustful roll on the rug in the library, they’d held their passions in check.

  She closed the last bag and set it in the hallway for Jason to take to the wagon. They would exchange few words before she left, she knew. She had nothing more to say to him at this late date, and it seemed he felt the same.

  She looked at Lily asleep on the bed and saw a light sheen of perspiration on her brow. It was an unusually hot September day, and it was apt to be stifling in the stage—a trip she dreaded, heat being the least of her worries. She raised the window and inhaled the warm fall air, and with it came the scent of ripened blackberries on the vines below. Knowing Lily would sleep for another half-hour, she found a small basket and went to pick berries to take on the trip. Though her stomach felt queasy from the stress of leaving, and she doubted if she could eat a single berry, they would keep Lily occupied.

&nbs
p; Fifteen minutes later, she’d almost filled her basket and was stretching on tiptoe in an effort to pick some plump berries just out of reach, when Jason came up behind her, rested one hand on her shoulder and plucked the berries from the vine, then dropped them into her basket. His hand remained on her shoulder. She made no attempt to turn around, but instead, leaned against the hard wall of his chest while clutching her basket of berries. “It’s time to go isn’t it?” she said, marveling that she was maintaining her composure, not breaking into a thousand pieces, when she knew her heart had already shattered.

  “Yes.” He slid his arms around her, his palms covering her hands on the basket of berries, and held her for a moment.

  She tipped her head back. “Will you kiss me one more time?”

  His answer was to press his lips beneath her ear, then send a trail of kisses along the length of her neck. She turned in his arms, dropping the basket of berries, and their lips came together in a hot, searing kiss. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged him closer, opening her mouth to accept his kiss, feeling her breath trapped in her throat until she thought she might die for lack of air. Still she wouldn’t break the kiss, not for air, not for her life. All she wanted was to be held by him and kissed with the urgency he was kissing her, as if he were her lifeline, and to end the kiss would be to suffocate.

  The faint sound of Lily crying broke the kiss. Jenny sucked in a desperate breath, filling her lungs with hot humid air, heavy with the scent of trampled blackberries beneath her feet, and backed out of Jason’s arms. “I’ll meet you at the wagon,” she said in a ragged voice. She touched his face one last time, then turned and rushed into the house, her heart beating painfully hard against her ribs, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Twenty minutes later, Jason guided the wagon toward the Golden Fleece where the stage awaited loading. Jenny saw that a crowd had gathered. At first she thought it was friends coming to see her off, but she soon realized something else was taking place. Faces that had once been friendly held contempt, and she didn’t understand why. True, Jason had killed two men in self defense—men the townsfolk considered adversaries—but for some reason his friends had taken a different view of the happening. She looked at Jason. “I don’t understand what’s going on. These people act as if you’ve done something wrong. You did kill Jack Bishop and the bounty hunter in self defense, didn’t you?”

  Jason nodded. “Things will eventually get sorted out,” he said. “But right now let’s get you and Lily on the stage so you can get a seat by the window. It looks like you’ll have a few traveling companions.” He pulled the wagon to a halt and began unloading her trunk and other pieces of luggage while she sat on the box holding Lily.

  When the wagon was unloaded, Jason reached for Lily. “Come here, sweet thing,” he said. “Give Dada a big hug.” Jenny handed her to Jason then climbed down off the wagon. Lily curved her little arms around Jason’s neck and he held her until Jenny wondered if he intended to let her go. When he finally returned Lily to her, Jenny saw the sheen of tears in Jason’s eyes. She also saw the hard, proud face of a man struggling to suppress the sad little boy inside.

  She touched his face. “Lily will be fine,” she assured him.

  “And you?”

  “I’ll be fine too.” She smiled, though she didn’t know how she’d managed to do so, except that she felt such deep heartache leaving Jason at this time. She had no idea what he’d be facing, but it was clear he didn’t want her around when it happened... Or beyond. She started to climb into the coach, but Jason reached out and stopped her. When she turned to see what he wanted, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her in a way that left no doubt in her mind that he cared.

  “You have a good life,” he said.

  So final. Just... You have a good life... Nothing more.

  Jenny’s throat was too clogged with tears to respond. Once inside the coach, she settled Lily on her lap. Lily looked around the coach, then at Jenny, and said, “Baybay?”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Jenny exclaimed. “Jason,” she called out the window. “I left Lily’s doll at the house. Please send it to us.” Jenny felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief that she and Jason might yet have one last tie beyond their marriage, with the prospect of receiving a package from him with the doll, and perhaps a letter.

  The driver climbed onto the box, ready to give the command.

  Jason placed his hand over hers on the window ledge. “I’ll send it,” he reassured her, then backed away from the coach and stood looking at her.

  As Jenny stared at him, movement beyond him caught her eye. She glanced over his shoulder and saw two men approaching him from behind, both dressed in the uniform of federal marshals. She started to call to Jason to turn around, but before she could, the driver gave the command and the stage lurched forward. Jenny looked out the back window in time to see one of the federal marshals clamp his hand on Jason’s arm and snap a handcuff on his wrist....

  And then the coach turned off the main street and Jenny saw nothing more...

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cedar Rapids, Iowa: Two Years Later

  Jenny stepped onto the porch of her white bungalow, a basket of wet laundry in her hands. She filled her lungs with warm fall air, and with it came the aroma of blackberries ripening on the vine. A distant memory brought a painful tightening to her chest. She could never think of blackberries without remembering...

  “Mama!” Lily called from behind the screen door. “Baby cries.”

  “Thank you, sweet thing.” Jenny set the basket down and went back inside, and moments later, emerged with a toddler propped on her hip. Lily scampered down the porch steps and chased after a butterfly, her golden-brown curls bouncing as she ran.

  “Lily,” Jenny called after the little girl, “please fetch the pram.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Lily rushed around the side of the house and returned with the pram, which she pushed to where her mother stood. Jenny lowered the baby into the pram and set to the task of hanging the laundry to dry. Lily skipped over to where her mother stood, reached into the clothespin bag and handed Jenny a clothespin, which Jenny clamped between her teeth. Jenny had just finished hanging a row of diapers on the line when a medium-set man, several years older than she, came out of the house. For a few moments he stood on the porch, taking in the activity around him. Then he patted the toddler on the head, crouched in front of Lily and gave her a hug, and kissed Jenny on the cheek. Climbing into a buggy parked out front, he took the reins and guided it into the line of vehicles heading toward the center of town.

  Jenny watched as the buggy ambled off, but after a few moments, she looked across the street, her attention unfocused as her eyes drifted over the throng of people scurrying in both directions. Then her eyes sharpened, and her breath caught in her throat.

  She blinked several times and released her breath slowly as she realized, once again, that she’d only imagined seeing a tall, dark-haired man she could not shake from her memory, no matter how hard she tried. Nor could she let go of the hope that burned in her heart like a steady undying flame that one day he would appear...

  Lily tugged on her apron. “Mama? We walk baby today?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely,” Jenny said, wanting to close her mind’s eye to the dark-haired apparition that had appeared to her, and the mélange of images that followed. She retrieved the pram with the toddler, then allowing Lily to place her small hands on the handle, they started down the street in the direction that the dark-haired man had moved.

  What was it about today’s sighting that separated it from the others? Maybe it was because the dark-haired specter, who’d appeared as fast as he’d disappeared, had been a half-head taller than anyone strolling down the boardwalk. As she pushed the pram, she felt almost overwhelmed by a sense of melancholy and willed herself to shake it off. It was a lovely September day, she had two healthy children, and there was no reason to feel cheerless. But she did. And it began when she’d inha
led the aroma of blackberries, and the vision of that terrible day came back...

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” Jenny turned to find a man holding a package wrapped in brown paper. “I was told to give this to you," the man said. "It’s for your little daughter.” He handed her the package. “The gentleman who gave it to me said you’d understand.”

  “What gentleman?”

  “He’s left now. But he said to tell you there are some papers for you to sign at the lawyer’s office, and that he’s glad to see you’re well and happy.”

  “Oh, my God!” Jenny tore open the package and stared at the porcelain doll. Tears welled, and her hand came up to stifle a cry. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know ma’am. Maybe at the train depot. He was heading that way when he gave me the package and the message for you.”

  “Mama,” Lily said, reaching for the doll, “Baby for me?”

  Jenny clutched the doll as she scanned the street for Jason’s tall, muscular frame.

  “Mama!” Lily’s voice was more insistent. “Baby for me?”

  Jenny knew Lily would not have remembered the doll, but she would want it nonetheless. “Yes, love, but you must be very careful. She’s china and she can break.”

  Lily took the doll and cradled it in her arms, swinging it gently back and forth as she’d seen her mother swing her little brother.

  Jenny flagged down a buggy for hire, and when it pulled up, she lifted her son out of the pram, left the pram where it stood, hustled Lily into the buggy and climbed in beside her. “Take us to the train depot as fast as you can,” she told the driver. He pulled the buggy into traffic and headed at a fast clip. They reached the depot before the train arrived, evident by the throng milling about the platform.