“You sure it’s no trouble?”
“I’ll see him this afternoon. He’s looking at a horse for me. Hard to get all that ranch work done with just one horse.” Well, two, but Ben’s didn’t count since he was leaving.
“Doc was right, then.” He laid Ben’s items on my stack. I picked up the pile and slid it into my bag. “Might be out there right now, talking to Mr. Miller.”
“What?”
“Doc left mighty early this morning. Your boy was on his list.”
“Thank you.” I wheeled from the counter and headed out the door. Doc needed to hear I’d married Ben, but I wanted him to hear it from me. My way. What was that word of Ted’s? “Dang” just wasn’t going to do it.
Chapter 35
Time to finish up with hell so I can return to heaven. ~Rex
“These are for you.” Regina stood below me at the wagon’s side, envelopes in her hand. Her small hand, the one I’d… “Mr. Greene gave them to me when I was there.”
I leaned down from the wagon’s bed, where I was stacking tools around the seed she’d evidently picked up on her quick trip to town, and took them from her, then hopped to the ground. “You see Doc along the road?”
Her eyes grew large, the green brighter than it had been. “Dang, I missed him. What did you say?”
“Me?”
“I mean, what did he say?”
“He said Jess was improving.”
“Jess. Of course. That’s why he came.” She went from looking at me to looking at nowhere. Or somewhere down the road where Doc had gone.
“And…”
Her eyes cleared as she focused on me.
“And he asked where you were.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked if he meant Mrs. Howard, and when he said yes, I said I wasn’t sure.”
“Ben Miller, you are incorrigible!”
I stuffed my envelopes into my pocket. “Mrs. Miller, I have a job to do, and I’m dam…danged well going to do it. I’m here to secure this ranch for you, so you’d better do your part and play along so your scheme works. The sooner you do, and do it right, the sooner I’m out of your way.”
“This is not a scheme! And I’m not a schemer. For your information, this is the very reason I was in town. To tell Doc.”
“That’s a start. But I wouldn’t have known it by the look on your face just now, and you need to do better than telling one person, or Mr. Gulliver will have you and your son on the first train back to New York.” Or worse, have Ted signing his name next to hers. If Regina’s eyes weren’t so green and her hair so red, maybe I wouldn’t care. No. I didn’t care. This was a job, just like the other half Jim sent me up here to do, which wasn’t getting done, either.
I strode into the barn while Walter nickered from the corral I was slowly piecing back together, that bossy sound of his pointing out I was doing something wrong, and it wasn’t with the fence. I brought Walter out, toted my saddle from the barn, and tossed it over his back. I reached underneath him for the girth strap and hooked it through the ring and tightened it. No need to slap Walter’s side—he knew the ropes—but I gave him a smack anyway.
“You’re going somewhere?”
“Yep.” I fitted the bridle over Walter’s head, looped the reins over the saddle’s horn, and climbed on. I needed to think. “Wagon’s loaded for you. Be back later.”
“If you’re off to look at a horse for me, don’t bother.”
“Ma’am.” I bent my head and touched the brim of my hat. I made one of those noises she hated, and Walter turned. This is why I never worked with a partner. Nothing got done quick enough or right. We hightailed it down the road.
The prairie was pleasant in the morning, the sun brushing across its top like orange dew. My thoughts began to clear as I rode, putting some distance between me and my wife. My irritation beginning to make less, and yet more, sense. Kansas certainly had the sort of terrain that let a man think. No obstacles, no sudden drop-offs, just flat land with no surprises except for the occasional hare or deer.
I rode past the ranch of the neighbor who first showed me the way to Regina’s place. I eyed his barn, thinking of the trouble I’d had ever since his “favor.” Naw. I patted my flint and steel and rode on, slightly northeast, far past everything familiar, even though it all looked the same. I let Walter slow as my thoughts leveled out, let him walk as Regina and her ranch manager faded behind.
A cluster of trees popped up in the distance. That meant water. Water for Walter. I thought of Jess lying in his mother’s bed.
“Hyah.” I reined Walter the direction of the trees, admiring the welcome change—the slope of the land, running water, wind that seemed less as we sank down to the line of trees. Prairie edged the small waterway and its long, narrow grove. A bare field lay to the south, its dirt a dark brown as a farmer worked it. He waved as I nudged Walter to the creek’s edge and dropped to the ground. I waved back.
“You know what to do.” I removed the bridle and looped it over the saddle horn, then walked to the nearest tree. I yanked a reed of grass from the ground, leaned back against the trunk, and chewed on the stem. The farmer went on with his business. He looked peaceful. Probably wasn’t married.
I fished the envelopes Regina had given me from my pocket. The first was from Pop—Adler Duncan—penned in his own hand, my name written by him, also. I saw the tremble in his lettering. “I’m sorry, Pop.” He would know his ranch was gone by now. More gone than just having Morrissey steal it from him. I prayed he didn’t know it was me that done it, though. I read his name again. Adler Duncan. The sound of it never ceased to leave an impression on me, make me proud, warm inside…make me think of flames, of Luke, and the buried box I’d left behind.
I slid to the ground, my back grazing along the bark. I leaned against its rough ribs while Walter waded into the stream. Jim had addressed the letter, just like he always did for Pop when Jim knew where I was and no one else did. I opened my father’s letter and unfolded the small piece of paper with fingers pulsing like my heart. I looked at his handwriting, at his few words. He called me son. He called me home. He didn’t say why. I refolded the paper and slid it back into the envelope, thinking back to the last letter I’d sent him. I’d called him Pop, thought how I missed him, told him I was okay, kept to myself the things I’d save until I was there. I loved him, but never on a page. Just sealed it inside the letter, the piece of me I always gave him, and trusted I’d get back. Until he found out…
I gazed across the creek at the chocolate dirt the farmer turned over. Maybe Ted was right and it was time to plant. I didn’t know much about it. Especially in Kansas. I glanced around the edge of the farmer’s field, looking for bags of seed. There was nothing. He was just working the land. Less hurried than the rush Ted seemed to be in.
I stuffed my father’s envelope back into my pocket and opened Jim’s. It was long, surprisingly longer than any conversation I’d ever had with him. I started at the beginning, where he said he had more reason to believe I was in the right place.
Right place…that meant I should be spending less time on the widow’s—my wife’s—problems and more doing my real job. Jim described a pattern he was piecing together, and said that all indicators pointed north. I gnawed the inside of my cheek. Too bad he hadn’t said I was in the wrong place, that he was sorry, and I could leave. I read through the scanty clues he shared with me, and the details of his suggestions, in addition to the reminder to marry the widow if I hadn’t already, saying again it was good cover for the job, the best way to keep me alive. He’d find out when he got the letter I’d just sent that that was taken care of. I was thankful that discussion was done and would be out of the way until we settled with her.
Your half-brother won’t be bothering you none, at least not soon. Morrissey’s after him. Always thought of Morrissey as a bit of a coward, and now I’m sure of it. Taking after Luke instead of you isn’t the manly thing to do. If you deserve the credit for
burning down your father’s ranch—your half-brother’s getting the blame.
Jim’s letter singed my hands. I squeezed it into a hard ember like a chunk of hot coal.
I could see Morrissey. I knew how he would look, but I couldn’t stand to imagine how Luke would after Morrissey was done. Or how my father’s tears would spill down his face. For real this time, not just because of the fire. Every one of them would flood over me.
I felt the rope around Morrissey’s neck as I pulled it tight, felt it tear at the splinters left over from my father’s barn. Felt the terror Luke should feel, felt the hatred he harbored as he was reminded once again I was different from him. And felt the end of living that my father must feel. A wife gone, a life gone, everything he’d built—gone. Betrayed by the one son who was his spitting image.
I closed my eyes against the rising sun, the brown dirt, the farmer, and the prairie that surrounded me. A grassy prison holding me too far away. I belonged there—where Morrissey was, where Luke was, where my pop called me to. I squeezed Jim’s letter until I couldn’t feel it anymore. A tiny crushed ball.
I bent my head, dropped the wad onto the bank beside me. I stared at it. Wanted to smash it with my fist, grind Morrissey’s name into the dirt until I had rocks and grit in my hand along with the splinters.
Walter planted his wet hoof next to the letter. “Better rest up,” I said without looking up. “We’re going to be riding soon, back to where we came from.”
Walter’s hoof moved away. I swiped Jim’s letter off the ground, peeled it open one tight crease after another. When the page was open again, I flattened it as best I could against my thigh and looked it over.
Word has it your father’s place is for sale. Morrissey’s unloading it, and I don’t think it has a thing to do with there being nothing on it now. My guess is that money he intends to make is for something else, something bigger. Still just my gut, but my gut’s generally right. I got a man on Morrissey down here, and we’re watching your family. You do your part up there. Follow the money. Or the stink of it.
Jim
The stink of it.
I could smell it from here. “Ain’t no way I’m staying here. Morrissey’s a snake. He’s too clever to just be watched.” I stood. Whistled for Walter.
“Howdy.” The farmer was on the far side of the narrow creek. He swiped his forearm across his brow as he stepped to the water’s edge. “Sweating up a storm even in the morning. Imagine if I’d waited to do this all later today.”
I left Walter standing where he was and went close to my side of the creek, close enough I could see the streaks of brown where I wanted to see red. I looked beyond the man and his dirty forehead, to the south, far south to where there was red dirt, red rocks, and red fires to put out. I’d be there as soon as I said goodbye to the redheaded woman who was carrying my assumed name. “I suppose you’ll be planting later today,” I said, one eye on Walter so he wouldn’t get too far away. “Looks like you’re nearly done turning the dirt.”
“Nearly done with this field, yes, but not planting yet. My name’s Fred, Fred Albert. You own that piece of ground?” He nodded where I stood.
I glanced around me. The land all looked the same, and I wondered how anyone knew one piece from the other. “I’m Ben Miller. This somebody’s ranch?” I looked back at Fred.
“Ranch? Probably not. Heard some fellow from back east bought it. Smart buy, but not for ranching.”
“Back east?”
“That’s what I heard. He was ‘investing,’ they said he called it. Heard he moved here from the East Coast, settled in, and started investing.”
“You hear his name?”
Fred dragged a soiled rag from a back pocket and swiped it across his forehead and the back of his neck, spreading the brown and the grime until it blended with his skin. He bent his head like he was getting the kinks out. He looked down and shook his head. “Can’t recall as I ever heard his name. If I did, I done forgot it.”
I looked at the land around me. It looked the same as all of the other Kansas land except for the creek, the low level, and the string of trees. “What’s to invest in here, if you don’t mind me asking? Gold?”
Fred laughed. “Better than gold. Besides the water, it’s the railroad. This, along with other land people thought was useless and had set aside for Indians or the poor homesteaders. Turned out some of it became worth more than gold. Why, if I’d bought that spot you’re standing on instead of my patch on this side of the creek, I wouldn’t be dragging around behind my horse, there, in the sun.”
“Well, I’ll be. Any more of that railroad land available?”
“Farther west, maybe, where the railroad’s still plotting its way. But here? Some squabbling going on over what’s left, but not as much. That’s why I wondered if you were my eastern neighbor. I heard a lot about him for a while, and then it went quiet. Dead as can be.”
Dead as can be. “Any other land quarrels going on around here?”
“Not like over railroad land. Wetland is worth something, but any land is high dollar if they put tracks over it. Like I said, my eastern neighbor there was smart. Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. I’d best be getting back to work. That sun’s getting pretty high.”
I waved as Fred walked back to his horse.
I looked around. I had to be standing on Flynn Howard’s land, the other deed I kept hearing about. Fred Albert was right about the high price on this land. It had cost Flynn everything. And now he was dead as could be.
“Walter, come on, boy. We gotta ride.” I glanced to the south. “Soon, Pop. Soon as I take care of things here. Take care of the widow and her boy.”
Chapter 36
If I hear, “Don’t be taking on more than you should,” again, including taking on pants instead of skirts, I’m going to spit! ~Regina
I envied men their freedom to spit. Nothing would have satisfied me more than to send a big wad of saliva behind Ben Miller as he disappeared down the road. Shouting Doggone you, Flynn, Ben, and whoever else gets in my way just wasn’t going to do. I glanced at Boss. I could unhitch him and chase Ben down, spit right in front of him, and come back. Or I could just go finish my fence.
I laid Ted’s letter aside and clambered up into the back of the wagon. Ben could have at least unloaded the seed and got it out of the way for me. I dragged each sack to the end of the wagon, sat down, and dropped to the ground.
“That the seed?” Ted tapped one of the sacks.
“Where’d you come from? You check the field?” I stretched my back, noted the dirt under Ted’s nails. “And yes, it’s the seed.”
Ted pinched the sack, tugging up on it and making a point of showing how empty it was. “You should have got more.”
“We don’t need more. I told you just two fields. The rest is for hay.”
“That won’t work.” Ted gave the bag a pat that was more of a smack. “Have you talked to Mr. Gulliver about this?”
“Mr. Gulliver? Why would I ask him what to grow on my ranch?”
“Not ‘what’ but ‘if.’ ”
“There is no ‘if.’ I’m married now. I made a plan and did everything Mr. Gulliver said.” I walked to where Ted’s letter lay. I picked it up and handed it to him. Ted cocked his head to the side and peered at the front of the envelope. He studied the name and address with the look he was so good at—no expression—then stuffed the envelope under his bad arm.
“Did married get you a clear deed with Ben’s name on it?”
“Not yet…” I looked the direction Ben had gone. Maybe I should have been a little more careful what I said, a little friendlier. “But I will. We just haven’t had time.”
“What’s done is done, Mrs. Howard…I mean, Mrs. Miller…as far as you taking on a new husband. But besides the fact we could have taken care of things without him, there are other things you should know.”
“Should know?”
“I’ve been looking into Ben, figuring out what he’s been up
to before now. He might not be good for this ranch, beyond being a name we don’t need. Where is he, by the way?”
I glanced down the road again. “He was supposed to check into a horse for me…” If he’d taken care of that like he should, and I had that horse right now, I’d go find that man who was supposed to be my husband and take care of things that really needed taken care of.
“I’ll find a horse for you. One gentle enough for you and Jess, when he gets back to riding.” Ted looked over my head, stared behind me. “That Doc?”
Doc Harris, tall on his buggy, rode into my barnyard, smiling as I turned. Doc had a nice smile, and a soft bend in his posture, one that eased along with his horse wherever he went. Different from the black storm that had barreled out of here on Walter earlier. “Ben said he had been here already. Must have been really early.”
Ted gave the sack another tap. “Regina.”
I looked back at my ranch manager.
“We need to talk. Soon.” Ted waved over my head at the doctor, then disappeared into the barn.
“Doc.” I turned as he climbed down. He was graceful, for a man. Easy in his movements. “I went to visit you this morning at your office. Mr. Greene said you’d already gone.”
Doc left his horse and buggy facing my house and strolled my direction, his hat twirling through his hands. “I should have warned you that with Mrs. Nelson down the road so close to going into labor I would be in your area at unusual hours, not to mention more.” He stopped in front of me, his hat still turning. “She’s at that age where having babies isn’t all that easy… She may have problems, so…” His hat stopped. I looked into those eyes that reminded me of Flynn.
“Doc…”
“Please, call me Lester.”
“I don’t know that I should…”
“I want you to. And I want your boy to, also. Jess is doing rather well, by the way. I was here earlier. He was asleep, but if he’s taking regular doses of that medicine I gave you for his pain, he will sleep. Keeps him peaceful.”
“Ben told me you were here. Thank you for checking on Jess.” I heard hoofbeats, a steady thunder coming down the road. Walter. I’d recognize his sound anywhere.
The Lady's Arrangement (Help Wanted) Page 16