He gazed at his sister, his admiration for her growing by the minute. “I reckon we’re the owners of a fine saloon,” he said, beaming. “I might go straight from now on—be a big businessman—get myself a fine suit.”
“That’s right,” she replied, favoring him with a grand smile. “It’s all ours now.” But I don’t expect you to last much longer than that old son of a bitch, she thought. “Now I’ve got to get back to the saloon. I’ve got work to do.”
Things were calm again at the M Bar C. Donovan had his sons back around him and Smoke was his old ornery self. In spite of the apparent calmness, however, there was still something short of normalcy that Donovan could not help noticing. Even Jug seemed more somber than usual, even to the point where Smoke commented on it. “What in the hell’s eatin’ at them sons of yours? Jug’s off his feed, and I ain’t never seen him like that except when he was lyin’ in the bed half dead with a bullet hole in his side. Cody ain’t much better—walks around all day like he’s studyin’ on somethin’. Cullen’s just as bad, but I know what’s botherin’ him. He’s thinkin’ ’bout that little gal over on Clark Fork, and I betcha he’s tryin’ to make up his mind.”
“You might be right,” Donovan said. “I’ve been noticin’ it, myself. Might be a good idea to call a little family meetin’.”
He decided to address the subject at the supper table that night. “Me and Smoke have been noticin’ all three of you mopin’ around here like you ain’t got a friend, ever since you got back. So what the hell’s eatin’ at you?”
None of the three volunteered to offer an opinion. In fact, they seemed surprised that there had been any noticeable change in their demeanor. Cullen shrugged and confessed that he was anxious to return Jimmy Sullivan’s horse, but could not explain why he had waited until now. The conversation continued for a while until Jug finally opened a wound that all three shared. “I tell you the truth, I can’t get it outta my craw that that woman got away free and clear after she caused all that misery to so many folks.”
Cody picked up on Jug’s confession at once. “I reckon that goes for me, too. It bothers my mind that we didn’t run her and her partner to ground and put a stop to her shenanigans. There ain’t no tellin’ how many more innocent folks she’ll cheat or kill before she’s through. And the law ain’t interested in goin’ after her.”
“It’s a job left unfinished,” Cullen said, agreeing with his brothers, “and that never has set well with any of us. If we had any idea where she went, we’d have ended it.” He glanced at his father then. “And we can’t leave you here without help while we search half the country, hopin’ to chance on her.” His comments pretty much summed up the general feeling among the three. They were unhappy with the situation, but they felt there was little they could do about it. “Anyway,” he continued, changing the subject, “I made up my mind to head out in the mornin’ to return Jimmy’s horse and those other things I borrowed from the Sullivans.”
His statement brought a twinkle to Cody’s eye, and he winked at Jug. “Well, it took you long enough. Now, if you’re too busy, me or Jug could take that horse back for you.” The somber mood at the table disappeared, bringing a smile to all the faces except Cullen’s.
“I reckon I can do it myself,” Cullen replied. “You’d best just look after your own business.” He got up, carried his plate to the hog bucket, where he scraped his leftovers, then went to his room.
Smoke leaned over to whisper in Donovan’s ear. “I told you. That boy’s made up his mind, all right, but it ain’t just to return a damn horse. We’d best get ourselves ready for a weddin’.”
Chapter 14
Leading Jimmy’s roan as well as one of the Appaloosas he had traded from the Nez Perce, he had started out early the next morning to retrace his ride of a few weeks before. Smoke had been accurate in his assumption that a decision had been made, but Cullen knew that it didn’t mean that Marcy was of a like mind. So it was with a slightly troubled mind that he rode back through the Sapphire Mountains.
It was early in the afternoon when he reached the western bank of the Clark Fork River. On the other side, he could see Fred Sullivan’s house about fifty yards from the riverbank. He pulled the bay to a stop and sat there for a couple of minutes, looking at the barn to the right of the house, thinking about the days he had spent between life and death in the back stall. He remembered the feeling of indifference when it came to whether he lived or died—and he remembered the angelic face that had smiled at him when he returned to complete consciousness. He had seen that face many times since, when he permitted his mind to wander. Without thinking, he reached up and felt his cheek where she had kissed him good-bye. Well, are you going to just sit here daydreaming forever? a voice inside him asked, bringing him back to the task he had set out to do. With his mind back on the business at hand, he turned the bay and rode upstream to the shallow ford where he had crossed several weeks before.
Fall had settled comfortably into the valley now and the days were shorter, the evenings cooler, already with heavy frost in the mornings. She had draped a shawl across her shoulders even though the sun was still above the mountains to the west when she came out to feed the chickens. As she watched them scrambling for the cracked corn, her mind was far away, beyond those mountains. Suddenly, she thought she felt an unexpected warming of the chilly breeze for only a second, causing her to turn to look toward the river. She did not hear her empty bucket when it landed on the ground at her feet, nor the startled chickens that scurried away as a result. She was aware of nothing beyond the solitary rider coming up from the river, leading two horses as he approached the barn. She knew he would come back. He had to. Her father and her brother had joked about it. Her father teased Jimmy that he had lost his horse, that he’d never see the roan again. She knew her father didn’t really believe that, but she had known for certain that Cullen McCloud would return because she wanted him to so badly. She left the bucket lying where it had dropped and hurried toward the barn where her father and Jimmy had been cleaning out the stalls.
“Well, look who’s here,” Fred called out cheerfully as he and Jimmy walked out of the barn, heading for the house. They stopped and waited when Cullen rode up to them and stepped down from the saddle. “Young fellow, you’re lookin’ a helluva lot better than the last time I saw you.” He stepped forward to shake hands.
“I reckon I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better,” Cullen replied. He handed the lead rope on the two extra horses to Jimmy. “Reckon you can take care of these horses. I thank you for the loan of yours. I don’t think he’s any worse for the weather.”
“Yes, sir,” Jimmy replied, and took the rope, his eyes on the Appaloosa. “That one looks like Buttermilk.”
“I guess he does at that,” Cullen agreed. “He’s his brother—come from the same mare a year apart.” He let Jimmy admire the horse for a minute before saying, “He’s yours, payment for lettin’ me borrow the roan.”
Jimmy was rendered speechless for a few moments, but a voice behind Cullen commented, “That was a special thing to do. I’m sure Jimmy will say so as soon as he comes back to earth.”
“I sure will!” Jimmy exclaimed, and Cullen turned to find Marcy coming from the chicken coop on the other side of the house.
“Hello, Marcy,” Cullen said softly. “I thought you might wanna see if your patient was still livin’.” Fred was rambling on about something to do with the stage line, but Cullen heard not a word, his mind captured by the radiant face gazing up at him.
“You’re looking real good,” she said, also oblivious of the others there. “I think I did a good job.”
“What?” Cullen blurted, just then aware that Fred had asked a question and was waiting for the answer.
“I said are you stayin’ for supper, and maybe a while longer?”
“I reckon, if your missus doesn’t mind,” he murmured. Then momentarily released from the spell that held him locked in a gaze with Marcy, he answered more force
fully, “Yes, sir, I’d like to stay overnight if it’s all right.” Then remembering, he continued. “I brought some money to pay for what I owe for all the food and care I got when I was laid up.”
“Son, you don’t owe us any thin’ for that,” Fred responded. “We were just glad we were able to take care of you. Why, we felt like you was family.”
Marcy gave him a little smile after her father’s comment. “That’s right,” she said. “I’ll go in the house and let Mama know one of our family will be here for supper.” She turned and left them to argue over whether or not Fred would accept money for Cullen’s care.
Myra Sullivan was all smiles when the men came in from the barn. She met them at the door and gave Cullen a little hug. “I’m so glad you came back,” she said, beaming at him. “We were awfully worried about you, young man. You didn’t look too well when you left here.”
“I started missin’ your cookin’ too much,” Cullen joked. “Besides, I owe you folks some money for all the grub I ate, and for the room and doctorin’.”
“Now, we’ve already settled that,” Fred insisted. “That Appaloosa horse you gave Jimmy more’n made up for anythin’ you mighta owed us.”
“Fred’s right,” Myra said. “You don’t owe us anything.”
The debate continued for a few minutes until Cullen finally gave in and thanked them all for their care and hospitality. Through it all, Marcy said nothing. Her mother noticed that she had gotten strangely quiet, and she could pretty well guess why. She knew that Marcy had made her decision, and she was wise enough to wait for Cullen to make his. Myra’s concern was naturally for her daughter and she prayed that Marcy’s heart would not be broken if Cullen turned out to be wed to the mountains and rivers, born to be a wanderer. If things turned out the way Marcy wanted, it would be both a happy and sad occasion for Myra, for Marcy was still a baby in her mother’s eyes. Things generally happened for the best, she finally told herself, and brought her attention back to preparing a meal for her family and their guest. “Your old room is ready for you,” she said when there was a lull in the conversation.
“Uh, thank you just the same, ma’am,” Cullen replied, “but I reckon I’ll just throw my blanket down in the barn if it’s all right with you. There’s no need to mess up your room.”
“Nonsense,” Myra replied. “It’s no trouble. You don’t have to sleep in the barn, for goodness’ sake.” She quickly glanced at Marcy, who had paused in the process of patting out the biscuit dough, waiting to hear his answer. “Of course it’s up to you. You might feel more comfortable in the barn.”
“I appreciate your invitation, but the barn suits me just fine, and out there I don’t feel like I’m in anybody’s way.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just say the word,” Myra said. Marcy turned her attention back to the biscuit dough.
After supper, Cullen went out to help Jimmy get acquainted with his new horse. “I worked with him some,” he said. “He’s got spirit. I think he’s gonna be a good one. He’s saddle broke, so you can throw a saddle on him.” He climbed up to sit on the top rail of the corral and watch the boy hem the Appaloosa in the far corner. “Let him get used to your smell a little bit,” he called out. Jimmy stroked the horse’s face and neck for a few minutes, then slipped the bridle on him with no resistance from the horse. Fred climbed up beside Cullen on the top rail while Jimmy saddled his new horse. When the Appaloosa was cinched up and ready to mount, Jimmy climbed up in the saddle. Cullen hopped down and opened the gate for him, and Jimmy rode out the lane toward the road, the horse stepping smartly in a fast walk.
“You think he’ll be all right?” Fred asked when Jimmy disappeared down the road toward Butte.
“Yeah,” Cullen replied. “That little geldin’ is as gentle as a lamb.”
In spite of Cullen’s assurance, Fred began to worry when Jimmy had not returned when it was almost bedtime. He was of a mind to suggest that they go look for him when Jimmy appeared at the top of the lane and rode into the yard at a comfortable lope. “Boy, he’s a beauty!” Jimmy exclaimed when he climbed down from the saddle. “Thanks, Cullen. He’s the best horse I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, you’ve got two horses in your string now,” Cullen said. “Make sure you take care of both of ’em.” Watching the boy leading the Appaloosa back into the corral, he was reminded of a young Indian named Yellow Hand, and he recalled how proud the Nez Perce warrior had been to show off the horse’s good points. He couldn’t help wondering if there would be any future opportunities to trade with the Nez Perce if they were successful in escaping the soldiers.
After Jimmy’s horse was put away for the night, Cullen walked back to the house with Fred and his son to express his thanks to Myra and Marcy for the supper. After a promise from Myra for a big breakfast in the morning, he said good night. Myra quickly switched her gaze to her daughter’s face, but Marcy remained silent, giving no indication of particular concern. After the dishes had been washed; however, Marcy wrapped a couple of the leftover biscuits in a cloth and said she was going to take them out to the barn for Cullen.
Trying not to appear obvious in her concern, Myra commented, “Jimmy can run over there with them.”
“No,” Marcy said. “I’ll take them. I could use some air, anyway.”
Myra walked to the kitchen door and stood watching Marcy’s back until she could no longer see her in the fading light. She hoped she had done a decent job of raising her daughter. She firmly believed that she had done her best to instill the proper principles in her upbringing. But now that it had come to the day she knew would someday arrive, she had to trust that Marcy would make the right choices. There was little good in worrying about it, she told herself. And it would be totally useless to lecture Marcy about running after a man far more experienced in the world than she.
“What’s the matter?” Fred asked when he walked in and found Myra still standing in the door.
“Nothing that you need be concerned about,” Myra said with a weary sigh, and returned to dry the rest of the dishes.
“Are you decent?” Marcy sang out when she entered the barn.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cullen returned. “Is that you, Marcy?”
“I brought you a couple of leftover biscuits in case you get hungry before breakfast,” she said. He thanked her and placed the biscuits on a corner of his blanket. She gazed around the stall as if seeing it for the first time. “Looks like you’ll be cozy here, but it’ll be pretty chilly tonight. Have you got enough covers?”
He assured her that he did. “It’ll be like a feather bed here in the hay. I was sleepin’ on the ground last night.”
“It seems strange seeing you in this stall again. I would think you’d want to sleep somewhere far away from the place you were wounded so badly from that murderer’s attack.”
“I suppose it depends on how you look at things,” Cullen replied. “Bob Yeager ain’t gonna cause anybody any trouble again, except maybe the devil.” He paused to consider his words before continuing. “I figure I owe Yeager.” When her face registered surprise for his comment, he said, “If he hadn’t shot me, I wouldn’t have got to know you.”
She did not blush. Her thoughts were too serious for that. She studied his face carefully in search of any hint of playful teasing. There was none. His eyes locked on hers, he was watching for her reaction, worrying that he might be embarking on a fool’s highway. A silence followed, broken only by an occasional stomping of a horse’s hoof in one of the stalls. Though only a moment, it seemed an eternity before she spoke. “I’m glad you came back, Cullen. I was praying that I would see you again soon.”
“Marcy, I had to come back. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.” He hesitated, then said, “There, I reckon I’ve made a big enough fool of myself. I hope I haven’t offended you.”
Her solemn expression melted swiftly away and she permitted a smile to warm her face. “If you’re a fool, then I guess I’m a fool, too, because I haven’t bee
n able to stop thinking about you.”
She came to him then, for there were no further words necessary at that moment. He opened his arms to her and she stepped inside his embrace to press her face against his chest, content to remain in his arms forever, and wishing with all her heart that the moment could last that long. Equally content, he felt at peace, knowing he was at home. Finally, they parted long enough for her to turn her face up to his to receive his kiss. When they parted again, she whispered, “I love you, Cullen McCloud.”
He answered, “I love you, Marcy Sullivan.”
Having made the commitment, both parties were uncertain what the next step should be. “I don’t know what your thinking is now,” she said. “Where does this lead us?”
He was certain of his thinking. “I hope, if you’re feelin’ the same way I do, it leads to the preacher. I want to marry you. Will you?”
All reserve vanished then, replaced by a wide, happy smile, and she nodded her head rapidly while answering his proposal. “I will! When?”
“Maybe we can find a preacher to tie the knot right away. What do you think your folks will say? They might not approve of it.”
“I think they’ll approve of it,” she replied confidently. “They did a lot of talking about what a decent man you are.” She shrugged and smiled when she added, “But if they don’t, we’re getting married anyway.”
They spent the next half hour making their plans to accomplish the marriage with the least trouble for all. Marcy recalled that there was a church in Deer Lodge where they might have the ceremony. “Maybe the preacher might even ride down here to get us married,” Cullen said. “That way your folks wouldn’t have to leave the station here.”
“Maybe we could send Cody after him,” Marcy remarked. “He seems very talented at persuading people.” They both laughed at that suggestion; then Marcy asked, “What about your folks? We should send word to them about the wedding.”
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