“What did you do?” Ellen asked.
“You had to have a partner to watch your back,” Roger told them.
“Did you find any gold?” his daughter asked.
“Sure I did. Lots of it.”
“Are you rich?”
“You only have to look at him to see he’s not,” Jared spoke up.
Roger bridled. “Everything costs ten to a hundred times as much in the gold fields. An egg would cost you two dollars. Beef was almost impossible to find at any price.”
“You should have done without,” Jared said. “We did.”
Sarah didn’t know where Jared had gotten such antipathy for his father. She’d done her best to say nothing that would give either child reason to be ashamed of him.
“I had to eat,” Roger said. “Prospecting is hard work.”
Jared refused to back down. “So is running a ranch.”
Roger laughed, causing a bit of sausage to fall from his mouth. “What’s so hard about sitting a horse?”
“Nothing,” Jared said. “Even a cripple like me can do that. It’s knowing what to do when you’re on the horse that’s important.” Jared had already formed an allegiance to Salty. Roger’s return threatened his newfound sense of security and self-worth.
“Prospecting and ranching—both jobs are difficult in their own way,” Salty spoke up.
Roger scoffed. “How would you know?”
“I grew up in Georgia. Worked briefly in a gold mine. Georgia was the major source of gold in this country before California.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Salty shrugged. “It’s a fact, so what you believe is of no importance.” Jared beamed at his reply. Dobie did much the same, though Arnie’s expression was unchanged.
Sarah wasn’t sure what was to be done. She didn’t know what the law might try to force her to do, but she knew she would never be Roger’s wife again. Last night had made that impossible.
“What do you plan to do now that you’re back in Texas?” Salty asked.
Roger flushed. “This is my ranch. I plan to stay here.”
“I can let you stay for a few days or weeks while you figure out what to do next, but you’ll have to work for your keep.”
“I’m not working with him,” Dobie announced.
“He’ll work with me,” Salty said.
“Who’ll I work with?” Jared asked.
“You can work with me,” Arnie said.
“How about me?” Ellen wasn’t going to be left out.
“You can work with me and Dobie,” Sarah said.
“I’m not working with him,” Roger said, indicating Salty.
“I’m not forcing you,” Salty replied. “I’m sure you’ll find something in town.”
“I’m not going to town! This is my home!”
“If you stay here, you work,” Salty said.
“Salty and I run the ranch together,” Sarah told Roger, “but he makes most of the decisions about what needs to be done and who will do it best.”
Roger glared at her with dislike. “I don’t know why my father thought you’d make a good wife, but I never thought you’d turn yourself into—”
Salty interrupted him. “Before you say something that might lead to a great deal of unpleasantness, you should remember that you neither wrote to your wife after you joined the army nor did you come home when the war was over. She had no way of knowing you were alive. After waiting two years, you were declared dead and Sarah and I were legally wed. She’s done nothing wrong.”
Salty didn’t sound like himself, but Sarah guessed that he, like she, was struggling to come to terms with the fact that Roger was alive. She reached over and slipped her hand into his. She wanted him to know that no matter what happened, he was the man she loved.
Salty turned to her, smiled and squeezed her hand. That was all the assurance she needed.
“I can’t believe you would bring him here.” It was a moderate response, atypical of the Roger that Sarah remembered.
“Where else would my husband be?”
“At his own place. You’d be there, too.”
“Sherman destroyed my home,” Salty told him, “so I came to Texas with the commander of my troop.”
“You were in the army?”
“I served in a cavalry unit. We harassed the enemy behind their lines.”
It was amusing to see Roger reassess Salty. Sarah didn’t know whether it was the war or his time prospecting, but Roger now realized he didn’t know more than everybody else, that he couldn’t have everything he wanted just because he wanted it.
“Have you been home to see your parents?” she asked. She was surprised he hadn’t said anything about them.
“They’re dead.”
“What happened?”
“Died in a fire.”
“I’m sorry.” His parents’ treatment of her and their attitude toward her children had made it impossible to like them, but no one deserved to die such a painful death. “Do you know what happened?”
Roger shrugged. “They were old. They probably knocked over a lantern or went to sleep without banking the fire. The fire destroyed everything. I had just enough money to get here.”
So that’s why he’d returned to Texas; he had nowhere else to go. Apparently being broke trumped hating your wife and children.
Arnie pushed back his chair. Glancing at Salty he said, “I’m done. What do you want me and Jared to do today?”
“See if you can find Sarah’s hogs. I want to know where they’re dropping their litters.”
“Any idea where we should start looking?”
“I know,” Jared said. “Mama told me where she found them last year.”
“Then let’s get going,” Arnie said. “Time’s a-wasting.”
Roger turned his gaze on his son. “He can’t even walk. How’s he going to look for hogs?”
Salty’s expression hardened. “Jared not only gets around nearly as well as the rest of us, he can ride. He’s been a big help with rounding up cows and branding them.”
“That kid will do nothing but get in the way,” Roger insisted.
Salty favored the man with a faint smile and stood up. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve been wrong. If you want that breakfast, you’d better eat in a hurry. We start work in ten minutes.”
“You haven’t finished your own!”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” Salty turned to Sarah. “See if you and Dobie can find any more stock that needs branding.”
Ellen appeared hurt that he didn’t mention her by name. “I’m helping, too,” she reminded him.
“I know. I’m depending on you to make sure Dobie doesn’t run off with my wife.”
The child giggled. “Dobie doesn’t like girls.”
Dobie winked. “I like girls just fine when they’re as pretty as your mama.”
“I told you so,” Salty said. “Make sure you keep a sharp eye on him.” He walked out the door.
Roger was stewing. Sarah was thankful Salty had been able to handle the situation thus far, but it wouldn’t last long. Roger’s mere presence would continue to be a source of tension. They needed a permanent solution, but she didn’t know what that would be. She hadn’t petitioned for a divorce, so she was afraid that, as far as the law was concerned, she was now married to two men.
“Why did you marry that man?” Roger asked when everyone was gone.
Sarah got to her feet. “Finish your breakfast. When Salty says ten minutes, he means it.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She picked up two plates and carried them to the sink. “I don’t have to.”
“You’re my wife. You have to do what I say.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to do what you say ever again.”
Roger slammed his knife against the table. “I’m your husband. I have the right to make you obey me!”
Sarah turned to face him, her hands on her hips. She was pleased she could promise, “If you so much as touch me, Salty will tear you apart.”
Roger laughed. “You must think a lot of yourself.”
She picked up two more plates. “I don’t, but Salty does. If you don’t believe me, just call me a whore. That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it? If there’s anything left of you when he finishes, Arnie will feed it to the pig.”
Roger’s look was scornful, yet it contained an element of surprise and uncertainty. “What’s gotten into you? You were never like this before.”
Sarah had lifted the plate of sausage, intending to put it away, but she turned back to Roger. “That was before I was left to manage a ranch by myself for six years. Before I raised two children from infancy on my own while doing all the chores. Before I married a man who respects my intelligence as much as my person, a man who believes my wishes and desires are just as important as his.”
“No other man is that crazy.”
Sarah turned to the stove. “I would have agreed with you before I met George Randolph.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“He commanded a troop during the war. He’s married to a woman he adores. And it was Salty who made me believe I was worthy of being loved the same way George loves his wife.” She picked up Roger’s plate and took it to the sink.
“Bring that back! I haven’t finished.”
“Your ten minutes are up. Salty’s waiting.”
“How do you know?”
The sound of a hammer was clearly audible.
“That’s how I know. Now get out there and start helping him. Nobody eats at my table without having put in a full day’s work.”
Roger sat motionless, staring at her, apparently caught between the impulse to treat her as he had so long ago and a feeling that something important had changed, something he didn’t understand and didn’t believe was possible. But he harbored just enough doubt that he finally got to his feet and stalked out of the room and through the door.
Sarah hadn’t realized how tense she was until practically every muscle in her body started to relax. The change was so abrupt she felt vaguely dizzy and nauseous. Anger as well as shock coursed through her. The shock was new, but the anger was old. Roger had turned his back on her because he’d felt she was unimportant. He’d ignored his children because he didn’t value girls and couldn’t accept a handicapped son. He’d gone to California because it looked like an easy way to get rich. He hadn’t cared enough for his family to find out if they were well, were in need, or even if they had survived. Now, when he’d run out of options, he’d come back.
She started to put the food away. The meat could be used again and the hominy could go into gravy, but she’d have to think of a way to use the leftover eggs. They couldn’t afford to throw out any food. Roger’s return hadn’t changed that.
Switching gears, she tried to put her children’s father out of her mind and plan where they would ride today. Roger Winborne would be no more a part of her life than was necessary as the father of her children. There was no question about herself: she would do whatever the law required, but when all was said and done, he would no longer be able to claim her as his wife. She already had the only husband she wanted, and his name was Salty.
* * *
The moon and stars were so bright, and the sky so cloudless, there seemed virtually no chance of rain. Salty picked up his bedroll, grabbed a blanket, and headed for the front of the house. He’d made it clear that Roger was going to be sleeping in the shed from now on, but he didn’t trust the man to stay there. Hoping to catch him off-guard if he was going to do anything stupid, and to confront him away from the children, he’d decided to sleep on the ground outside.
Despite the complications that Roger’s return had made in his life, Salty had gotten over his bottled up anger. Working everything out about the two marriages was going to be tedious and unpleasant, but legal issues were involved, not issues that could be swayed by individual feelings. Salty was bone tired, because dealing with Roger Winborne for a whole day had been the most exhausting thing he’d ever done. The man would exhaust the patience of a saint, and Salty had never pretended to be a saint.
He checked to make sure the cows Sarah and Dobie had collected weren’t pushing on the corral poles looking for a way out. It would be a couple of days before they could get around to branding them. He’d have to see about reinforcing the corral and making it bigger, especially for when George Randolph sent that bull calf. He would have to be kept in a pen and the cows brought to him; he was too valuable to let run wild.
The chickens were roosting in the tree in their enclosed yard. The pig was rooting around, looking for more food. He was putting on weight quickly. Salty had to decide whether to pen up the wild pigs when they got old enough to be weaned, or leave them to fend for themselves. He doubted he could provide them with enough food to fatten them up the way he wanted, but he didn’t want to lose them to coyotes or wolves. Six people were depending on them for food for next year.
The garden was up and growing nicely. He was looking forward to fresh beans and peas, and his mouth watered when he thought of fresh tomatoes. There would be corn and squash. With luck, the squirrels wouldn’t get all the pecans from the grove of trees along the creek. There was a lot of work still to be done, but on the whole everything was looking more prosperous. Having Arnie and Dobie had made a tremendous difference. Roger was another story.
With good help, Salty should have been able to finish the extra room in a couple of days. He’d figured any man would know how to do basic carpentry. If not, at least he could help. It was probable that Roger could do both with a reasonable degree of skill, but he was the laziest, most trifling man Salty had ever met. All he had done was talk. And ask questions. And make assumptions. And try to convince Salty that he was Sarah’s legal husband, that her marriage to Salty was an easily correctable accident. It had taken nearly every bit of Salty’s patience to ignore him.
Having reached the house, Salty stopped to decide on the best place to make his bed. He didn’t want to sleep in front of the steps, but he didn’t want to be more than a few feet away, either; he wouldn’t put it past Roger to attempt to sneak inside. He finally settled on a spot about six feet from the stoop and laid out his bedroll. Settling his pillow, he folded the blanket double. He expected it would get a good deal colder outside than it did in the shed.
Despite being tired, he was too keyed up to sleep. He still had to figure out how to fix things. Roger had ruined supper for everybody. Everything he said seemed calculated to offend or anger someone. Jared was tight-lipped and sulky. Arnie smoldered silently, while Dobie tried to parry Roger’s jibes. Sarah got so upset she turned pale. Even sunny-tempered Ellen had turned quiet. Salty had finally told Roger to shut up. Dobie said he talked more than a woman. Jared said he wished he’d never come back from California. Sarah said he’d have to eat outside by himself if he couldn’t stop upsetting everyone.
Clearly Roger was learning to accept a lot of things he wasn’t used to, but having his ex-wife tell him he’d have to eat outside wasn’t one of them. The man lost color. He probably would have said something terrible if Dobie hadn’t threatened to shove a knife between his ribs. That’s when he said, “I never thought I’d see the day when a woman thought she had the right to tell her husband what to do.”
“You’re not her husband.” Arnie said. “Salty is.”
Roger had lapsed into a brooding silence then stalked off after everybody was done eating. Salty didn’t know where he’d gone and didn’t really care, as long as he stayed away from the ranch house. He hoped he wouldn’t have to see him until morning.
The wish wasn’t fated to be fulfilled.
“What are you doing out here?”
Salty looked up to see Roger approaching, bedding under his arm.
“Something wrong with your bedding?” he asked.
Roger’s steps slowed. “I decided I don’t want to sleep in the shed.”
Salty felt his muscles tense. “You can sleep outside if you want, but it’s warmer in that shed. Still gets chilly some nights.”
“I don’t want to sleep outside, either. I’m going to sleep in the house.”
“I already explained why you can’t sleep in the house,” Salty said. “Ellen and Jared have their bunks in one room, and Sarah sleeps in the other.”
“You want to sleep with Sarah when you finish the extra room, don’t you?”
“Of course. She’s my wife.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping with her now?”
“That’s between me and Sarah.”
“Doesn’t sound like she wants to be your wife, if she won’t sleep with you.”
He was clearly trying to aggravate Salty, to goad him into action. Salty decided to frustrate him by not commenting. The strategy was successful, because Roger’s lips thinned and his eyes grew hard.
“Can’t be much of a man if you can’t convince your wife to sleep with you. Hell, I’d sleep with her every night whether she wanted me to or not.”
“I’m not you,” Salty said.
“You sure as hell aren’t. I’d never be under the thumb of any woman, much less my wife.”
Roger obviously didn’t understand love, or didn’t believe it was possible—certainly not the kind that required mutual respect and consideration of your partner before yourself. “There’s no point in talking about it. Now turn around and go back to the shed.”
“I wasn’t planning to force myself on Sarah,” Roger pointed out. “Ellen can sleep with Sarah, and I can have her bunk.”
“You’re not sleeping in the house,” Salty repeated.
“I guess I’ll have to change your mind.”
Roger threw aside his bedding and approached Salty, his fists balled up and ready to strike.
Twenty-two
Salty had expected the confrontation between himself and Roger to come to blows at some point. Reluctantly, he got to his feet and tried one last time to make peace. “Why don’t you make it easy on everyone and just go sleep in the shed?”
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