Dorothy Garlock

by This Loving Land

  “Did she die before the accident?”

  “Yes. She died a couple years after you and your mother went back to the Piney Woods. It was a blessing, in a way, for toward the end she had to be locked in her room. But let’s talk of more pleasant things. You have a beautiful place here. I’ve always loved this place. Your land borders on ours. Did you know that?” She laughed at Summer’s expression. “No. Your land doesn’t reach out fifteen miles, but ours reaches almost that far. You have a strip in here that borders the creek—I’d say it’s two or three miles wide. You’ve a valuable piece of land as far as Slater is concerned. The south of your land is another part of McLean’s Keep. That wily Sam!” She laughed again and shook her head. “He laid out this homestead. I don’t think he thought J.R. would come back for Nannie. Maybe he thought he would marry her himself.” Her eyes danced with mischief. “That Sam was a true Scotsman!”

  The hint that Sam would have married her mother for her land didn’t go down well with Summer, but she kept her eyes on the distant hills and never allowed her feelings to show.

  “And you, Ellen,” she asked, “have you been widowed long?”

  Her eyes took on a sad, faraway look again. “Travis was just a little boy when Scott died. We stayed at the ranch for a few years, then went to Nacogdoches, where my people lived. We came back about twelve years ago and brought Jesse with us. It was about time, too. The man I trusted to manage the ranch had about stolen us blind. I do declare, you never know whom to trust. Jesse took things in hand. You know, I have the finest house in west Texas if 1 do say so myself. Do come and stay as long as you like, Summer. What good is having a fine house if you can’t show it off?” She laughed and held her hands over her ears in mock dismay. “What must you think of me?” she wailed.

  “I think you’re a very nice lady, who is proud of her home.”

  “Oh, Summer. I want us to be friends.”

  “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be.” Summer’s eyes found her young brother and she called to him. “I want you to meet my brother, Ellen.”

  Summer saw no more of Travis until the evening meal. He came in with Jesse. The two men stood side by side waiting for the meal to be placed on the table. How alike they were, and yet so different. Both were tall, lean and brown. One smiled easily, the other seldom, if at all. Travis was politeness itself. Gone was the lecherous image he projected earlier, and in its place a boyish friendliness. Summer privately conceded that her opinion of him could have been colored by Slater’s bitter warning.

  Sadie appeared when the meal was over, and Summer assisted with the clean-up. Sadie was unusually cross with Mary, and the little girl finally went to the bunk in the back of the kitchen and lay, sucking her thumb, watching with large, round eyes. Ellen was distantly polite to Sadie, and ignored the little girl completely. It was with relief that Summer invited Ellen to the veranda when the work was finished.

  As soon as the two women left the room, Sadie went to the washstand and bathed her flushed face. It was a struggle to crush the feeling of apprehension that stirred restlessly when in the presence of Ellen McLean and her son. Son-of-a-bitch! A mule’s ass of the first string; a spoiled, conceited bastard, whose sexual urges ran to cruelties and perversions. The women in Hamilton had told her plenty about him. Even the whores refused his money unless they were desperate for cash. Her heart had come up in her throat when she first saw him, and the nightmare of his near-rape came bounding back to set her atremble. Only her screams had brought help. Just before his fist had smashed into her face, she had seen the tall dark foreman, his face frozen with anger, trying to jerk him off her. Today, the man acted as if he didn’t remember her, but Travis had recognized her instantly. He had appeared once this afternoon and leaned briefly in the doorway of the kitchen eyeing her insolently, as if daring her to betray him.

  Angry with herself for being so cross with Mary, she went to her and gathered her up in her arms.

  “Mama’s sorry, sweet baby,” she crooned. “Mama’s sorry she was cross. I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll go down to the swing. Would you like that?”

  The little face broke into smiles. “Swing, swing!”

  It was twilight when they walked hand in hand out the back door. Down by the creek, Sadie could see the fire from the temporary camp set up by Mrs. McLean’s drovers. Several riders from the other ranch splashed across the creek to join them, and from the shouted greetings it was obvious the groups were friendly. Sadie and Mary turned toward the swing.

  Mary ran ahead, grabbed the straw-filled sack suspended by the rope and wrapped her small legs about it. Sadie gave her a gentle push and she laughed merrily. The sound of her child’s laughter was so dear to her that Sadie forgot everything except this small pleasure she was sharing with her daughter.

  “High, high, Mama!”

  “Hold tight” Sadie cautioned. “Hold tight, and we’ll go higher.”

  After a while, Mary became weary of holding on, and her small feet dragged the ground until the swing stopped. She was content for a time just to push the swing, then turned her small face up to her mother.

  “Mama swing!”

  “All right.” Her laughter equalling that of her daughter’s, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around the sack. “Give me a push, Mary.”

  The small hands on her back barely moved her.

  “Come on, Mary. Give me a push.”

  Large, hard hands touched her back, and she was given a hefty shove. She was so frightened that her hands froze onto the rope and she flung herself around to see Mary standing beside the tall foreman, clapping her hands and squealing with glee. The man’s hat was pulled low over his eyes, and she could see only his mouth. It was slightly tilted.

  “Mary,” she gasped, and darted to take the child’s hand. Mary jerked away from her and ran to the swing.

  “Me swing!”

  Sadie’s heart was galloping wildly in her breast. She went to snatch Mary from the swing, but the man was there ahead of her and gave the child a gentle push.

  “We was just goin’.”

  “No, you wasn’t.”

  She wasn’t sure she heard correctly and looked wildly about like a frightened child.

  “I’m not the one you have to look out for. You know that.” He spoke softly, gently, and kept a steady hand on the child’s back as he swung her back and forth.

  “Yes,” she whispered, but the sound reached him.

  “How come you was workin’ in the dance hall?” Sadie was taken aback by his words and didn’t know how to answer, so she remained silent. “Where’s your man?” His direct questions sparked resentment.

  “He got hisself killed, and I was working in the dance hall ’cause I couldn’t get no other work.” She watched him, frowning, but her resentment died fast when his eyes met hers. To soften her blunt words, she added, “Thank you for what you done that night. I didn’t have no idea he’d do what he did. He’d been so nice.”

  “He can be when he wants to. Don’t let him catch you by yourself.”

  There was silence while they both watched Mary on the swing. Again, Sadie was taken aback by his words, and she searched frantically for something to say.

  “How long you been working for Mrs. McLean?”

  “Twelve ’years.”

  She wished he would say something more, but he stood silently, watching her, swinging Mary.

  “Do you come over this way often?” She wished she hadn’t asked the question.

  “I will now.”

  Sadie was so nervous and strung up she could hardly think. What did he mean? For a second, she felt the prick of a thrill, but it faded quickly in the face of logic. He would be bringing Mrs. McLean to visit Summer. She allowed herself the luxury of staring at him.

  His sun-bronzed face was framed by neatly trimmed dark brown sideburns, accentuating high cheekbones and a thin, well-formed nose above a generous but unsmiling mouth. It was the sternest, most forbidding face she had ever seen. He tu
rned to look down at her, and suddenly his gray eyes gave her the feeling he could see straight through her.

  “This is a good place for you. Will you stay here?”

  “I want to.” The words came easier. “I want to help enough to pay for our keep.”

  “This is a good place for you,” he said again.

  Sadie watched him, noting the way Mary trusted him and how gently he pushed her on the swing. She looked into his face and wondered what was behind it. What was he thinking? And would he really protect her from his employer’s son? She wondered how he had come among the McLeans. What had his home been like? What kind of woman could take him from Mrs. McLean? A queer little shock went through her when she realized her thoughts. How could it possibly matter to her what kind of man he was? Come morning, she would probably never see him again. Nevertheless, the thought disturbed her, and she looked at him keenly. There was no smell of evil about him like there was about Travis McLean, but there was no real softness, either, except what he showed with Mary. Yes, to be with such a man would be . . . would be. . . .

  “Have you made up your mind about me?” He stopped the swing and lifted Mary down.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were trying to decide what kind of man I am, and if I’m to be trusted.”

  Mary reached up and took his hand and tugged. He looked down at the impish little face and squatted down on his heels. He patted his shirt pocket. Timidly, at first, Mary searched until she discovered the slender cylinder of candy. Her sparkling eyes found his. Jesse got to his feet and patted her head.

  “Somethin’ we both got a fondness for, eh, little girl?”

  He took the makings for a cigarette from his pocket and, scarcely looking at what he was doing, constructed the smoke. He flicked the head of the match with his nail and held up the flame. He watched Mary, sticky spit from the candy running down her chin, then turned his gaze on the mother. She was a woman all right—scarcely more than a girl in years—but a spunky woman. Pretty, too. He took the cigarette from his lips. She was fidgeting and burning because he was looking at her. She had looked at him, now it was his turn. She must have really been brought low to take the job in the dance hall. He knew when he pulled Travis off her that she wasn’t right for that sort of place.

  It was growing late. Sadie took Mary’s hand. The man didn’t turn or speak as she walked behind him, but her footsteps hesitated a little, as if she wanted to speak. He turned and she stopped.

  “Mister?”

  “Yes’m?”

  “Thank you. And thank you for givin’ Mary the treat.” Her voice trembled, in spite of her determination to keep it even.

  “Go on back,” he said. Sadie was sure his voice gentled. “Go on back and I’ll watch.”

  It was wonderful not to be afraid. She could feel his eyes on her until she let herself into the back door. Quickly, she washed the sticky sweet from the child’s tired face and hands, undressed her, and put her in the bunk. Blowing out the lamp, she undressed and got in beside her. She could hear the murmur of Ellen McLean’s voice coming from Summer’s room, and the voices of John Austin and Pud in the loft. She thought of the coming morning with mixed feelings. Although she longed to see the last of Mrs. McLean and her son, she dreaded to think she’d not be seeing Jesse Thurston again.

  It was near midnight when Jack tied his horse to the rail and crossed the stone veranda. He let himself into the house, and guided by the smell of freshly brewed coffee, went directly to the kitchen. Slater looked up and motioned toward the stove. Jack hung his hat on the rack and took a mug from the shelf.

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Better. Teresa made up a poultice that took off some of the soreness.”

  “How’d she get it past Bulldog?”

  Slater grinned at that. “He was busy keeping his eagle eye on Ellen.”

  They sat in silence for a while before Jack spoke again.

  “Ain’t that kid a ring-tailed tooter?”

  Slater refilled his cup and thought about the pleasant hour he had spent with John Austin.

  “It’s no lie about him being brainy.”

  Jack chuckled. “He got ol’ Pud treed. Drawed him a picture of the world and showed him how the sun and the moon went around it. 0l’ Pud jist sit thar with his mouth open. Kid tol’ him he’d show him how to read and write his name. I thought ol’ Pud would bust a gut when the kid said thar warn’t no excuse for him to be ignorant now that he was here. Kid’s smart. Ya gotta give him that. But the fool kid don’t know nothin’ else. Walked right up close to a rattler . . . wanted to look at it. I tol’ Pud not to take his eyes off him, leastways till we get some sense in him.”

  “His sister said he lacked horse-sense, but she brought it about herself by protecting him too much, doing too much for him. It’s made him selfish and forgetful of his manners. He needs a man’s hand.”

  The older man looked down at the table, twisted his cup round and round in his large calloused hands.

  “Travis has come a courtin’, Slater. He’s behavin’ real good. If’n him and his ma get their way, we ain’t gonna have nothin’ to say ‘bout the girl or the kid.”

  Although Slater was of the same opinion, the spoken words angered him.

  “Who the hell says they’re going to get their way? That girl is no fool. I’m counting on her seeing right through Ellen and that murdering son-of-a-bitch.” Resting his elbows on the table and rubbing a fist against his forehead, he heaved a laborious sigh and continued, “Goddammit, Jack. I ought to kill the bastard and be done with it.”

  “There’s times when I agree with ya, and then there’s times when I don’t. I ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong in thinkin’ he was in on the killin’ of yore pa, but if ya just gun him down, not knowin’ for sure, it could be a hard thing to live with. ’Sides, you might have Jesse to worry with.”

  “How about Jesse, Jack? He still lickin’ Ellen’s boots?”

  “I’ll tell you somethin’. I’d bet my bottom dollar Jesse is onto Travis. He’ll do all he can to keep it from Ellen, but he’s onto him. He dogged him all day, and once, when he was talkin’ to Armando, you know that hand we hired a while back? Well, he kind of sidled up to them, easy-like, and Travis moved off. I ain’t a likin’ that coot a cozyin’ up to Travis like he done.”

  “Maybe you ought to tell him to skeedaddle.”

  “Thought it might not hurt to keep him and see what he’s up to.”

  “He’s spying for Travis.”

  “Maybe.”

  Slater fingered the scar on his face as he sometimes did when he had something on his mind. Irritably, he jammed a cheroot in his mouth and, striking a match on the sole of his boot, puffed it until it glowed. A wraith of smoke curled into the air.

  “Jesse see any Indian sign?”

  “None. Said the bunch what hit us was likely an offshoot of Mountain Apaches in the hills south and west. Jesse’s got good Indian sense, fought ’em a heap from the way he talks. Course the booger don’t give away nothin’ ’bout hisself.”

  “Jesse knows what he’s about.”

  “Except for one thing.”

  A scowl came to Slater’s face. “Every man has a weakness. Jesse’s is Ellen McLean.”

  Six

  Just after daybreak, Jesse brought the buggy to the front of the house.

  “Must we go so soon?” Ellen, in her gray traveling suit, placed a hand on his arm.

  He patted her hand and spoke to her as if she were a child. “You know we must. Say your goodbyes, so we can get goin’.”

  “I didn’t see enough of Summer,” she pouted.

  “We’ll come again,” he promised.

  Watching from the doorway, Sadie chastised herself for even daring to dream a man like that would be interested in her when he had that beautiful, dainty creature, even though she was years older than him. She folded her hands across the clean apron she had put on in hopes she would see him again, and scolded herself for the ex
tra time she had spent on arranging her hair. He had not even looked her way.

  Summer was not sorry the visit had come to an end. She liked Ellen, and her opinion of Travis had undergone a drastic change since the afternoon before, but it was a strain having guests when she had been in her new home for such a short time. Travis was friendly without being overly so, and he seemed to have faultless manners. He came up to her now, and extended his hand.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Kuykendall. Thank you for your hospitality.” He grinned boyishly and tilted his head toward his mother. “She’ll be easier to live with for a while.”

  Ellen’s sparkling laugh filled the morning stillness. “Don’t mind what he says, Summer. He and Jesse would have you believe I’m a regular nag.” She went to Summer and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I would have loved having a daughter like you, dear. But,” she raised her eyes upward in mock despair, “I was given this unbearable son!”

  John Austin came out of the house, rubbing sleep from his eyes, followed by Mary holding up her nightdress so she could walk. The little girl made straight for Jesse, much to Sadie’s distress, and reached up and tugged on his hand.

  Jesse’s stern face softened, and his hand came out to fondle the dark red curls before he squatted down on his haunches so she could reach into his breast pocket for the candy stick she knew would be there.

  The smile that came to Summer’s face when she saw the amazement on Sadie’s faded when she looked at Ellen. The older woman’s brows were drawn together and she seemed to be repulsed by what she saw. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and moved a step closer to Jesse and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Well . . . Mama!” Travis laughed teasingly. “You’re gonna have to keep a tighter rein on your man. I do believe he’s been out prowlin’.”

  “Shut up, Travis.” Jesse barked the words as he lifted Mary up in his arms. Turning to Ellen, he said, “Get in the buggy.” He handed the child over to Sadie and raised his hand to the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”