Open Road

by M. M. Holaday

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO: WIN

  Dawson ranch, a week later

  From the kitchen window, Win watched Meg pace back and forth at the piñon tree.

  “Does she do that a lot?” he asked Charlie. This was the third time she’d been up there in the week since he’d returned.

  Charlie peered out of the window at his mother up on the hill. “Yeah, but if you ask her about it, she doesn’t sound crazy. She says it calms her.”

  “Apparently my return has upset her.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

  “Relax, Charlie. I understand.”

  Since Win’s arrival, all had not gone smoothly. Meg withdrew after her initial welcome. The night he rode in by moonlight, they sat out on the porch together all night. She let him hold her in his arms and they talked as though he’d never left, like he’d always been there. In some ways, he had.

  They watched the sky lighten. Meg said at the time that she didn’t want the day to start, it was so peaceful and quiet, and it felt so good to have Win’s arms around her. For Win, it was bittersweet. He had often imagined sitting with her like this, but it was possible now only because Jeb was gone. He kept expecting Jeb to come up behind him and slap him on the back.

  “The Arapaho have it right, you know,” Meg told him that night. “When someone they love dies, they chant a song that builds a bridge into the next world, to make the passage easier. Running Elk taught it to me. People who have strong spirits on Earth keep their strength. He said if we listen carefully, we can hear them in the wind. I’ve heard them.”

  “I’m back for good, Meg. I’m here to look after you.”

  She stiffened. “We can take care of ourselves.”

  James had stepped out onto the porch then. In the few short years since Win had last seen him, James had grown considerably. Win was taken aback by how much he looked like Jeb, although taller. He felt a rush of guilt, as though Jeb had caught him with his arm around his wife. But James welcomed him with a bear-hug greeting.

  “James, I’m so sorry.”

  “You have our sympathy as well, Uncle Win.”

  Meg walked into the house without a word to start breakfast.

  A full week passed. Now, from the kitchen window, Charlie and Win watched her pace back and forth at the family cemetery. Eyes on his mother, Charlie said, “By the way, I appreciate you keeping quiet about those letters I sent. I was just worried Ma was going to do something she’d regret.”

  “Protecting what you love is as natural as breathing, son. Marrying that Parker fellow would have been a mistake. I won’t say anything about your letters, but I do want her to talk about it if James wants to study medicine anytime soon.”

  Meg suddenly started down from the piñon tree. The two hustled away from the window and pretended to be busy with breakfast. James came in with a pail of milk, followed by Meg, who apologized for delaying breakfast. She broke eggs into the skillet.

  Win sliced some bread and casually started a conversation. “James, I hear you want to study medicine.”

  “Yes, sir. I plan to once we get the ranch back on its feet.”

  “What would you consider to be ‘back on its feet’? Did you have to take out a loan? Do you have creditors knocking on your door?”

  “We are doing just fine.” Meg sounded mildly defensive. James and Charlie glanced at each other as she brusquely stirred the eggs. “We just can’t afford to pay someone to take James’s place right now.”

  “What if I were the extra pair of hands you needed? Would you let James start working for Dr. Miller this fall? I bet I could get the hang of this ranching thing. I know a little about horses. They have a head and a tail, right?”

  Charlie laughed. “Pa told us that you and he raised two colts together, trained them and everything.”

  “We did. Galen and Hippocrates came west with us. I miss them. You know what’s amazing? The month Jeb wrote to say that Galen died was the same month Hippocrates got shot in a skirmish. He saved my life. He reared up and took a bullet meant for me.” Win had finished slicing the bread and peered out the window. “It was strange that Galen left us at nearly the same exact time.”

  “It isn’t strange at all. Animals have spirits just like humans.” Meg busied herself at the stove, beating the eggs with the same conviction as her words. “Their spirits were connected. One just followed the other into the spirit world to keep him company.”

  Win glanced at James and Charlie. Just like Jeb would have done, James raised his eyebrows and shook his head ever so slightly to suggest Win not challenge her.

  Heeding James’s advice, he said, “Jeb’s father was smart to put us in charge of their care. We learned a lot. We learned a lot from Gus, too. You boys have had the best teachers—Gus, Jeb . . . your ma. It shows. You are fine young men, young men who should be pursuing your own dreams.” Win circled back around to the point he wanted to make. “The ranch could operate without James if I took his place,” he said.

  “You’ll get restless.” Meg made the declaration as she removed the pan from the stove.

  “You’ll have to trust me that I won’t.” Win stood in the middle of the kitchen, taking a stand, this time willing to challenge her. But she busied herself serving up the plates and didn’t respond. Win glanced quickly at Charlie. “Besides, it’s the weakened calf that the wolves go after. I don’t want some rancher sniffing around here, making some fool marriage proposal, looking to expand his operation—”

  Meg spun around so quickly egg flew off the wooden spoon and onto the floor. Buddy bolted and slurped it up. “I’m no weakened calf! Mr. Parker needed me more than I needed him!”

  “What are you talking about? Who’s Parker? Good Lord, you mean it’s already happened? Someone already proposed?”

  Thinking she’d just given away her secret, she stuck out her chin indignantly and briefly before her shoulders dropped and she returned the pan to the stove with a heavy, tired hand. With no more wayward eggs coming, Buddy slumped back onto the floor and sighed, mirroring Meg.

  Now that the topic was finally in the open, Charlie was keen to talk about it. “Mr. Parker asked Ma to marry him earlier this spring.”

  “Charlie!”

  “Oh, Ma, Win already guessed,” James said. “It’s not that unusual.”

  “I’m sorry you were put in that situation.” Win wanted to hold her—a bird grounded by a broken wing.

  “I never seriously considered his offer.” Her voice quavered, as though she were battling a lump in her throat. She straightened her back. “I don’t need to raise someone else’s children, thank you very much, especially all those Parkers. I wouldn’t have the patience after raising my perfect James and my perfect Charlie.”

  She turned away, but Win could see her close her eyes briefly to regain her composure. He didn’t point out the flaw in her argument. Gus had raised someone else’s child and loved her with the patience of a saint. She was living proof.

  James, acutely focused on the subject they’d strayed from, spoke kindly to his mother. “If Uncle Win took my place, I could start working for Dr. Miller this fall. By next year, I could probably enroll in medical school.”

  She turned around to see all three men staring at her in anticipation, waiting for her approval. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I don’t know how you’d stand living here, Winston Avery. We’re a mighty dull lot compared to your Alaska.”

  “It wasn’t ‘my’ Alaska. And it’s time I lived in the same place as my heart.” Win wasn’t sure how Meg would respond to a comment like that. She might argue that she’d never have his whole heart, only half. The other half would always be restlessly searching for new adventures. At another time in his life, she’d have been right. Not anymore.

  She said nothing. Wash walked in looking for breakfast and the conversation changed.

  Wash announced that he saw a fresh footprint of a mountain lion. He was going to ride up the mountain to hunt.

  Meg agreed. “We do
n’t need a cougar adding to our problems,” she said as she placed the plates on the table.

  Win winced, taking her comment personally. “I’d like to come along,” he said. “It’s been years since I checked my property.”

  Wash glanced at Meg, who simply shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  A ride through the mountains was as restorative as any tonic. The aspen quivered as though excited by their presence, while the ponderosa pine stood stoic as chickadees and jays chattered and flittered about, cradled in their arms. The sun warmed the pine branches and the scent wafted through the air. Win recalled the day he rode with Jeb and Meg through the foothills for the first time and napped on a flat rock while they caught a fish dinner for them. Why such contentment wasn’t recognized at the time and why he let it slip away, only to search for years to find it again, he couldn’t say. Gray Wolf once told him that everything had its own time. Win didn’t grasp the Arapaho’s message then, but he was beginning to understand it now.

  Wash wanted to turn back before they reached the farthest corner of their boundary, but Win saw the rock pillar marking the property line and insisted on riding to it. Wash reluctantly followed. A second pillar had been erected. On the first, inscribed in the cement, Jeb had written: NW corner boundary Dawson ranch. On the second he’d written: NE corner boundary Avery property. Evidence of Jeb’s thorough and attentive nature.

  Win dismounted on the grassy hilltop. Something wasn’t right. The spot where Jeb had put the side-by-side markers was off by twenty or so feet. “Wash, these markers are wrong.”

  “No, the boundary is correct.”

  Win lined himself up with the original landmarks he used when he first bought the land. Jeb had placed the markers inside. An insignificant detail, considering the amount of acreage, but it was an error so unlike Jeb, Win knew he must have done it on purpose. “C’mon, Wash. What’s going on?”

  Wash shifted in his saddle. “He did it for Meg.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Wash hesitated. “You ask a lot of questions. Maybe you should not ask them.”

  Win spread his arms. “Answer them and I’ll stop. Wash, why did Meg want the boundary markers moved?”

  “Carl Pitts is buried over there.” Wash pointed to an area outside of the markers.

  The shock buckled Win’s legs. He caught himself and dropped onto a boulder.

  “You remember the man, then,” Wash said.

  “Only the name. From a long time ago.” Win searched his memory. Meg and Jeb were sitting with him on blankets at a town festival in LaPorte, eating pie. Win pressed her to tell them about the gambling man they saw her with. She told them how she raced Biscuit and Pitts took the wagers. She regretted ever meeting him and never mentioned him again. “What happened?” Win asked.

  “Pitts showed up from time to time when she and Gus managed the way station. The first time he came, he said he’d heard there was a pretty hostler with red hair in Paradise and wanted to see for himself if it was his old partner. She wanted nothing to do with him. Gus sent him on his way. But he kept coming back.”

  “I remember her getting upset once when she was recognized by some folks passing through,” Win said. “I didn’t see why. Her racing seemed fairly innocent to me.”

  “Pitts was not as innocent,” Wash said. “He would come and cause trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “He wanted money. When Meg refused, he suggested another way she could help him. But Gus protected her. Pitts was a nuisance, but then he came to their ranch. James was just a few months old. Meg went out to pull a few vegetables from the garden and when she came back inside, Pitts was in the kitchen, holding the baby. He wanted money, and this time he threatened to tell her secret.”

  “She must have been terrified. But what secret? What could a scoundrel like Pitts blackmail Meg about?”

  “He said he knew Indians were living on her land. He said he’d accept payment for his silence; otherwise, he would tell the soldiers at Fort Laramie. They argued, and James began to cry. Jeb came in to see why the baby was crying for so long and saw Pitts on the kitchen floor bleeding from the head with an iron skillet next to him. Meg stood over him, clutching James.”

  “Good God!” Win took a moment to let the story sink in. Protecting what you love is as natural as breathing. She protected Gray Wolf. Jeb protected her. “So Jeb buried Pitts up here.”

  “They did it together, making sure he was buried outside of their boundary. But when you bought your land, his grave was on your property. Meg was afraid to dig him up, but didn’t want him on your land, either.”

  “So Jeb changed the boundary line.”

  Wash nodded. “Pitts was bad medicine.”

  Win wondered what else he didn’t know about Meg. But the argument they’d had two days after he’d arrived made more sense now. He’d been in the library, looking at the photographs taken by Powell’s student so many years ago. He felt her presence in the doorway.

  “It seems like yesterday,” he said, staring at the faces. “Yet, we look so young.”

  “We were.” She strolled into the room, her arms folded across her chest.

  “You sure could cut a hole in the wind, Meggie.”

  “Well, I’m all grown up now. I’m not the little girl you raced as a Post rider, and I’m not the girl you found on the prairie. I’m a mother of two grown boys and manage a ranch. This is who I am now.”

  At the time, Win hadn’t fully understood her irritation. But now he realized what she meant. She’d made sacrifices for what she had. It had changed her.

  Wash broke into Win’s thoughts. “I tell you Meg’s secret about Pitts because I am very fond of Meg. I am very grateful for the life I have at the ranch. I think you deserve to know this about her. You are good for her, and I think you love her.”

  Win cocked his head at the Pawnee. “You sound a bit in love yourself.”

  Wash shook his head, but tapped his chest with his fist. “Meg and I are adopted Arapaho brother and sister. You need to make no pact with me.” A grin spread across his face.

  Win furrowed his brow. “Is there anything you don’t know about?”

  The revelation about Pitts did indeed help Win to understand the woman Meg had become. But he had changed, too. When they returned from their cougar hunt, Win sought out Meg and found her in the library, studying her ledger. She looked up, but didn’t smile.

  “Wash shot one male mountain lion. He’s pretty sure it was the one prowling around,” Win said.

  “Good. We have to protect the livestock. I don’t like mountain lions. They’re solitary and sneaky. You never know when they might turn up.”

  Like Carl Pitts, Win thought. But he just nodded and wandered over to the photographs where they’d argued. He stared at his own photograph, a young man with big plans for adventure and excitement. He flexed the muscles in his back and felt the scar tissue tug. “How do the books look? Are you managing?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “You are extremely capable and responsible.” Win was determined to avoid an argument.

  “I don’t need to be rescued.”

  Win almost said maybe she could rescue him, then, but didn’t. He turned to look her in the eye. “But it might be easier if you shared the load with someone.” He pulled her photograph out of his pocket. It was worn and crumpled. He had carried it with him all these years. He held it up so she could see. “You made some of my hard times bearable.”

  The hard lines on her face softened. She had a look in her eye that he couldn’t read.

  He propped her photograph against one of the frames on the mantel. “You don’t have to be so strong, Meg. I’m here to help carry the weight.”

  “Until when? Another expedition party forms? Your thirst for adventure is unquenchable.”

  “Maybe when you have to take what’s second best, it’s hard to get enough. Those days are over.”

  “You sound disappointed.”
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  “You aren’t listening carefully.”

  “We can manage just fine if you want to leave.”

  “Of course I don’t want to leave.”

  “I never asked you to come back.”

  Win spread his arms out, exasperated. “I know you didn’t. I came back because I wanted to. I want to be here with you.”

  “You’re so used to leaving, you don’t know how to stay! Jeb stayed and built this place with me! We built it together!” Her words stung. She stormed from the room.

  He wondered if he had indeed made a mistake coming back. He wasn’t Jeb. He would never be able to take his place.

  Win took his troubles to Georgia, who encouraged him to persevere. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “She can vex a person, Georgia. How the hell Jeb put up with her, I will never know!”

  “Oh, honey, you just bring out a different side of her than Jeb did. Not better, not worse.”

  “I don’t think she sees it that way. I really don’t think she wants me around.”

  Georgia sighed. “Of course she wants you around. Trust me on that.”

  “You didn’t hear her.”

  “No, but I know her. Give her time. And don’t give up.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE: MEG

  Paradise

  Meg stood at the door to the schoolhouse and watched Etta return a book to its place on her bookshelf. The teacher held the book in her hand briefly. By the expression on her face, Meg knew it was one she and Gus had read together. When Etta heard her and looked up, her face instantly brightened.

  “Meg, dear, do come in,” she said with a smile. “It’s been too long since we’ve visited.”

  Meg stepped inside. “Charlie said you needed to speak to me. Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, of course! That dear boy, he must have misunderstood me. I simply said I hadn’t seen you in a while and that we must talk soon. He’s doing just fine! He’ll graduate this spring. I’m so proud of him.” She tilted her head. “How about you, though? How’s my dear friend?”

  Meg slumped into the front desk. “Well, frankly, I could use some advice.” The schoolteacher pulled her chair from around her desk and sat down, ready to give Meg her full attention. Meg sighed. “I loved Jeb so much. He’s still so much a part of my life. But . . .” She stopped and looked down at her hands.