by Jo Goodman
Finn shook his head. “He doesn’t know. We wouldn’t be sitting here so easy if he did.”
“He’d have taken a switch to you?” asked Walt.
“Sure,” said Finn. “After we went to the graveyard that night a ways back, we had to make a promise.”
Rabbit jumped in to explain. “Pap understood, but Granny gave him a stern talkin’-to anyway, especially on account of him having whiskey on his breath, and then she made us all swear we wouldn’t do it again. I don’t know what Pap promised exactly, but Finn and I crossed our hearts and inside ourselves we were both thinking we wouldn’t drink whiskey.”
Kellen remained perfectly straight-faced, but it was a test of his endurance. “I see. Then you didn’t precisely break the promise you made, did you? Because I’m thinking that you boys might have ventured out again on your own.”
“That’s speculation,” said Finn.
“It is. If you confirm it, it will be a fact.”
Rabbit said, “Maybe it’s better if you just stay a speculator.”
“All right,” Kellen said. “I’ll speculate, and you boys listen. How will that be?” He watched them exchange glances. Their small, expressive faces telegraphed their thoughts almost as clearly as if they had spoken aloud. It would be years yet before Rabbit and Finn would be able to school their features, and Kellen was prepared to take unashamed advantage of that.
Raine saw that Walt had finished his chili and was putting the last bite of cornbread in his mouth. “Would you take Mr. Irvin his bags now? They’re sitting at the foot of the stairs. I gave him the key to the room vacated today. Sue assured me that she had time to clean and freshen it. I would take it as a favor if you would look around and make certain that’s so.”
“Right away.” Walt stood and started to clear the table.
“Leave all that, Walt, but thank you for thinking of it.” When he was gone, Raine said to Kellen, “You may begin to speculate.”
“Thank you.” He nodded gravely at the boys, but when they bent their heads to scrape the last crumbs from their plates, he winked at Raine. “Rabbit. Finn. I think that you were out of your house again the night after you helped Mr. Jones.” Neither boy looked up, but they did look sideways and fiddle with their forks. “I know you boys are brave.” Their heads dipped in the briefest of nods. “But sometimes a man needs to prove it to himself…or his brother.” This time Finn shot a surprised look at Kellen and a more accusing one at Rabbit. “I’m imagining there was a dare, or maybe a small wager, and you waited to leave until your pap and granny were snoring too loudly to hear you.”
The boys pressed their lips together to suppress giggles.
“I think you started out for the graveyard by a different route, one that brave and clever young men would use when they do not want to be discovered, one that would not put them on the street but in the alleyways behind the buildings.”
Rabbit’s eyes widened. Finn’s mouth parted a fraction.
“You never made it to the graveyard because you saw someone…” He paused because the boys looked at him blankly. He amended his statement. “You saw something that made you think better about going on because you are not only brave and clever, but you are also wise.”
The boys bit their lips again.
“And here you are after the news of finding Mr. Weyman’s body is all over town. It’s no wonder that I’m speculating. You saw something that night that made you turn around and go home, but it probably didn’t seem important then, only a little frightening. It was finding the whiskey drummer’s body today that made it seem as if it might have been important.”
Finn looked sideways at Raine, partially cupped his hand around his mouth, and whispered, “He’s a good speculator.”
Raine nodded and whispered back, “Reporters frequently are.”
Kellen’s mouth twisted to one side as he thought. “You were close to the Pennyroyal when you saw it.” He could see Rabbit worrying the inside of his cheek. “Behind the hotel?” The boys offered blank stares again. “Close but not behind.” Kellen tried to think where they might have been hiding. “Mr. Stillwell’s barbershop is nearby, and there are stairs at the back going up to his second floor. You saw something and hid under the stairs. Very clever.”
Two thin chests puffed out a little.
Kellen considered what he had learned thus far and saw no alternative except to take a stab at what the boys might have seen. Not someone. Something. “Mr. Weyman had two bags,” he said, watching Rabbit and Finn closely. “I think you might have seen…” He stopped again because while Rabbit was staring straight ahead, Finn was rolling his eyes. It couldn’t be one or both of the valises that they had seen behind the hotel. The bags would have been relatively difficult to see sitting on the ground at night, especially since the boys had gotten no closer than the barbershop. If they had witnessed the bags being lowered from or raised to a room or the roof by means of a rope, that would have roused their curiosity, not their fear.
What they saw was not directly connected to Mr. Weyman.
“You saw something that you knew belonged to someone other than Mr. Weyman. You weren’t even concerned about the whiskey drummer at the time.” Finn began to jiggle in place as he started to swing his feet again. “You were worried about the person this thing belonged to, and it had to be big enough for you to see it clearly at night. It wasn’t a gun. Or a knife. No, not a weapon of any kind. Something…” He paused to give the boys time to calm themselves. They both had the jitters now. Raine had taken to rubbing Finn’s back in slow, soothing circles.
“When I came to town and you boys saw my guns, you asked me if I was here to start trouble or end it. You said it would be a real shame if I had already hired on with the Burdicks.” At the mention of the name, the boys went rigid. “Lots of people in this town worry about the Burdicks,” Kellen said. “It seems pretty smart of them, if you ask me. The Burdick name comes up a lot when there’s some sort of trouble.”
Rabbit and Finn remained still as stone.
“You didn’t see one of the Burdicks that night, but you saw something you recognized that belonged to them.”
A shiver slipped down Rabbit’s spine. He didn’t have the benefit of Raine’s calming hand at his back.
“I think you saw their horses at the back of the Pennyroyal.” As soon as he said it, he realized he didn’t yet have it quite right. Rabbit and Finn wanted to tell him in the worst way, but they couldn’t, and now knowing how close he was to the truth, he understood their need to keep the secret. “You saw a horse.”
The boys’ cheeks puffed and deflated slowly as they released long breaths.
Kellen nodded slowly, looking over their heads to Raine but continuing to speak to them. “I went out to the Burdick ranch yesterday. Did you know that?”
Rabbit and Finn traded looks and shrugged. Rabbit spoke. “We mighta heard something about that.”
“You probably saw me leaving the livery again and asked around. It’s not a secret that I’m writing a story and that the Burdick ranch is part of it.” Kellen folded his hands together on the table. He tapped his thumbs slowly. “Eli and Clay escorted me all over the spread, and I know I still did not see the half of it. They gave me a mare to ride to spare the horse I borrowed from the livery. Eli rode a black stallion that must have been sixteen hands from ground to withers, but Clay rode an even bigger gray, one that I imagine looks silver in a little bit of moonlight. It was a beautiful beast. Long-necked. Lean body. Deep chest. Back East an animal like that would be on the racetrack. Not everyone can handle a horse as bold and spirited as that gray. I bet you boys know that animal’s name.”
Neither boy spoke up. They kept their lips pressed tightly together.
Raine said, “That’s Phantom. Everyone knows him. If I saw him shaking his head or pawing the ground behind the Pennyroyal, I’d look for somewhere to hide. He frightens me in the daylight. At night, he’s a ghost.”
That brought a quick nod
from Finn and a slower one from Rabbit.
Kellen finally sat back in his chair and stretched his legs under the table. He envied Finn the hand that Raine still had on his back. “I don’t imagine you stayed under the stairs for long.”
Staring down at their plates, the boys shook their heads hard.
“I wouldn’t have either,” said Kellen. “You did the right thing to go home.”
Raine asked, “Did you hear anything before you left? Something odd that perhaps you didn’t understand at the time?”
“No, ma’am,” said Rabbit.
“Mostly it was just my own heart,” said Finn. “And the snorting.”
“Have you told anyone else about this?” asked Kellen.
Rabbit’s chin came up. “We didn’t tell you.”
Kellen smiled appreciatively. “No, you didn’t, did you? Well done, men. Is it your intention not to tell anyone else?”
Rabbit gave his brother a narrow look.
“I’m not sayin’ anything,” said Finn, crossing his heart. “I’m not even goin’ to sit still for the speculation.”
“Very good,” said Kellen.
“Granny would worry,” said Rabbit. “Pap would have to turn us over his knee.”
“The Burdicks might murder us in our sleep,” whispered Finn.
Raine put her arm around Finn’s shoulders and squeezed. “That’s not going to happen. Don’t even think that it can.”
“It wouldn’t be such a worry,” Rabbit said, “if Mr. Coltrane would show folks his guns.”
Raine sat on a woolen blanket at the foot of a cottonwood tree watching Kellen reload the .44 Colt. The .45 caliber Peacemaker with the pearl grip lay beside her. It was the first time she had seen the guns since Kellen’s arrival. She remembered how he’d set them out on the table in his room as casually as calling cards on a silver plate, and it wasn’t until they reappeared that she realized she had no idea where they’d been hidden away.
He reminded her that he’d come to Bitter Springs with two trunks and a bag and that for almost the entire length of his stay, the bag had been squirreled away under the bed in Ellen’s old room. She didn’t believe him at first, but then she recalled how she’d found him in her apartment one evening. He’d made it seem as if he was there for the express purpose of speaking with her, but he had gone there to hide the valise and everything that followed was improvisation, including the kiss that set her back on her heels.
He did not say as much—in fact, he said very little—but once Raine was prompted to remember something from that night, she remembered everything.
Drawing from the holster, Kellen fired off two shots. His target was a smooth stone about the size of his fist resting on top of a stump. The first shot nudged the stone to the left. The second splintered the side of the stump.
“What were you trying to hit?” asked Raine.
“The stone. Both times.” He holstered the gun, paused, and drew and fired again. This time he hit the stone twice so that it skipped off the stump’s platform. “I’ll get it,” he told Raine.
“I wasn’t moving.” She huddled deeper into her coat, lifting the collar and tucking her chin below the frog closure.
Kellen gathered all the stones he had scattered and returned them to the stump. When he turned and saw Raine pulling the corners of the blanket around her shoulders, he just shook his head. “Did I invite you to come with me?”
She scrunched her nose at him.
He chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” He walked over to the blanket and unfastened his gun belt. He exchanged holsters so he could practice with the smaller .45 caliber. “Do you want to shoot? If you were up and moving around, you wouldn’t be so cold.”
“Snow’s coming. Can’t you smell it?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Smell it?”
She sighed. “Never mind. No, I do not want to shoot.”
“All right. Let me do a couple more rounds with the .45 and then we’ll leave.” He stood farther away from the targets this time and picked the stones off one by one. He reloaded, crouched, and fired again. He missed the stones twice but caught the stump on both of those occasions. Kellen backed up another five feet, reloaded, and took aim at the stones he had missed. He got them both this time. “This gun doesn’t release as smoothly from the holster as the other.” He repeated holstering and drawing the weapon several more times.
“I like this one,” Raine said, pointing to the Colt on the blanket. “It’s bigger.”
“More importantly, I can draw quicker and hit what I’m aiming at.”
“I didn’t notice a difference between how you did with the two weapons.”
“That’s because it’s not your finger on the trigger. The handling’s different, the weight, the pull. I favor the .44.” He returned to Raine’s side and held out a hand. She took it, and he helped her up. He stooped, picked up the .44, and gave Raine the blanket. “Are you satisfied with what you saw?”
“I never doubted that you could shoot. Nat Church would not have asked you to join him if he couldn’t depend on your aim.”
“Then I’m glad to know that you have at least as much confidence in my aim as you do in Nat’s judgment.” He began to exchange holsters again, strapping on the .44. “Why were you so set on coming with me?”
Raine gave herself over to the task of folding and rolling up the blanket.
“Raine?” He tried to catch her eye. “What is it?”
Shrugging almost imperceptibly, she turned in the direction of their tethered mounts. “We should go. We don’t want to be out here at night.”
Kellen put a hand on her elbow. “Wait. We have time. What is it you don’t want to tell me?”
Her laughter was low and ironic. “Now there is a question.” She shook off his hand at her elbow and continued walking.
Kellen stayed where he was, watching her go. There was something to be said for maintaining a little distance. He waited until she strapped the blanket to the back of her saddle and was prepared to mount before he approached.
Kellen placed the spare Colt in his saddlebag, took up the reins, and mounted. He asked Raine if she wanted to lead the way through the trees and down the rocky incline to the valley floor. She did not hesitate. Even when the trail widened and could have easily accommodated them riding side by side, Kellen hung back. He did not doubt that she would eventually tell him what was on her mind. What he could not gauge was the span of time between now and eventually.
That was only troubling because he could not gauge how much time he had left.
“How far is Matt Sharp’s farm from where we are now?” he asked her.
“Maybe six miles northeast. Why?”
“How does the Sharp farm get its water?”
“I don’t know. A well, I suppose.”
“Is there a lake? A spring?”
“Hickory Lake. But it’s miles from their farm.”
“It might supply their water, though.”
Raine twisted in her saddle so she could see Kellen. “Why are you asking about this?”
He shrugged. “Something Uriah said to me when we were talking about the government survey. He has his eye on some property that he thinks the survey will take off the market. He wants it for himself. It was just an impression, but I had the sense the property was out this way. I don’t know much about the area except what I saw when we were searching for Emily. I’m wondering if Uriah went after the land around the lake whether or not the Sharp farm would be in his way.”
“What do you want to do?” she asked, but she knew the answer. She looked at the sky, studied it for a moment.
Watching her, Kellen shook his head. “No. It’s too late now. But tomorrow I’ll go out.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You have a business to run.”
“I’m going with you.”
Kellen said nothing. That argument would be waiting for them in the morning.
Or it should have been. It was only wh
en morning came around that Kellen realized that he’d left it until too late. Raine was not in the apartment when he woke, and she was not in the kitchen or dining room when he went to steal bacon and biscuits from under Mrs. Sterling’s nose. Sue could only tell him that she thought Raine had gone to the rail station. Walt’s guess was the same as Sue’s.
She was waiting for him at the livery, saddled up and ready to ride. She was wearing a split riding skirt, belted wool jacket, boots, and a white Boss of the Plains short-brimmed Stetson. He recognized the modified stock and butt plate of a Springfield Model 1877 carbine in the scabbard.
He pointed to the carbine. “Do you know how to use that?”
“I’m not Annie Oakley, but I can hold my own.”
“You really want to do this?”
“Yes.”
Kellen did not have to think about it long. If he said no, she would follow him. He would rather have her at his side than somewhere behind him with a carbine. “All right.” If she was surprised that he surrendered so easily, she did not show it.
They spoke very little as they rode toward the lake, but this silence was comfortable and mutually agreed upon, not edgy and one-sided as it had been the previous day. Kellen did not take them close to the Sharp farm; rather, they skirted the property and climbed to a higher elevation once they were well clear of it. They followed Elk Creek to its source, a silver-blue lake nestled in the mountain crag that was a reservoir for the snowmelt every spring.
Kellen dismounted when they reached the edge of the water and let his horse drink. He studied the lake, the land, and tried to imagine how Uriah Burdick might stand on precisely this same spot and see an opportunity.
“What do you expect to find here?” asked Raine.
“I’m not sure, but I want to go around the lake. Do you want to come or wait for me here?” He chuckled when she merely lifted an eyebrow at him. “Very well.” He led his horse away from the water and mounted. “Clockwise? Counterclockwise? You choose.”
Raine had been looking around much as Kellen had. Her particular interest, though, as dictated by her hunger, was locating a place where they could spread a blanket and have something to eat on the relative comfort of the ground. At their current elevation, there was not much in the way of cover, but she had noted an outcropping of scraggly pines some three hundred yards away that might offer reasonable shelter from the wind.