From time to time a sound came to him—a faint voice from somewhere in the past. It seemed that he recognized the voice at times, but then it faded. He was aware that there was something out there, but his mind was buried so deep in unconsciousness he could not know it.
An acrid smell came to him, and for a moment he rose out of the depth of darkness that enveloped him. Underneath his body he felt the roughness of earth, but he could not recognize it.
Time meant nothing. He had no sense of its passage, and he could have been unconscious for as long as it took to build the pyramids, or it could have been only a few moments.
Finally he began to rise out of the darkness, and strange flashes of memory began to touch his mind. They were not fully developed, and he could not identify them. He was only faintly aware that they came from somewhere out of a past that he had left behind.
A figure and a face took shape in front of him. It was from his past, and he struggled to recognize it. Finally he remembered a scene in the woods, but he could not remember where it was. But there was a young boy there, and slowly as the features of the young man came together, he recognized Roy Gibbons, the best friend of his youth. It was an innocent face, youthful, unmarked by time, and yet he remembered it. It was very vivid. He saw himself and his friend as they crossed the field and came to a fence. Roy leaned his rifle against the fence and straddled it to go over, but as he did, he lost his balance and struck out. There was an explosion, and as clearly as he had seen anything, Ty recognized the crimson blood that spurted from his friend’s throat. He cried out then as he must have cried out when he was watching this tragedy. “No, Roy!”
But then the terrible dream faded, and he suddenly knew that it was something he’d experienced as a young man. The darkness came again, and gratefully he lay back, glad not to see the awful scene of his friend dying.
Soon, however, another dream came. The face of a young woman took shape in the darkness and seemed to glow. She had an oval-shaped face. At first he did not recognize her, and then suddenly a name came to him. Evelyn. He tried to cry out to her, but she looked at him with a sadness that he could not identify. He lay there struggling, trying to shake the dream from his mind, for the young woman brought memories that he had tried to bury years ago. He remembered she had been his first love, the first young woman he had ever known, and then suddenly he saw the scene where she had come to him and said, “Ty, I’m going to have a baby.”
The words seemed to be carved in some sort of glass or marble. “Ty, I’m going to have a baby.” He remembered how he had been only seventeen and did not really love the girl.
He’d saddled his horse, without a word from anyone, and left the farm where he had been born without even leaving a note to his parents. He remembered fleeing over the country, trying to find a forgetfulness that would blot out the face of the young woman, but now as he lay there, suddenly, not for the first time, the queries came floating into his consciousness: I wonder if she had a boy or a girl. I wonder if she ever found a man to be a father to the child… my child. And he felt a sharp pang of keen regret.
Suddenly Ty felt a sharp sensation in his back. Something was poking at him, and he rolled over and made a harsh, croaking cry. He had the impression of several dark, hideous birds rising up, their wings flapping as their harsh cries etched into the silence of wherever he was. Finally he fell back into unconsciousness and felt a black hole closing in about him. He felt something seizing his legs, dragging him down, and he cried out in a desperate voice, “No, God! Don’t let me die!”
And then came nothingness. No sounds. No smells. No touch. Just the blackness that devoured him.
Raina reached up and patted her mare’s head. She took the bit well, and Raina smiled. “That’s a good girl. Let’s you and me go for a ride.”
She stepped into the saddle and waved good-bye to her father, who was talking with one of the herdsmen. He waved back and smiled at her, and somehow the smile brought a good feeling of warm pleasure. She had found a father. Found one who was tied to her by blood and by the past, and somehow this meant that she was now a complete person.
It was a fine time of the morning, the part of the day that she loved best. The sun had risen and now was shedding warm beams over the land. She paused once and looked at the land that dropped below her, then lifted her eyes to where it rose to the hills over to the north. The sight of the Yellow River, as it wound its way across the plain and disappeared into the distance, gave her pleasure. The sun brought a sparkling to the water’s surface, and she kept a fast pace until finally she reached a high ridge, the beginning of the Indian Territory.
She looked in both directions and saw not a single thing moving, leaned forward, and whispered, “Let’s go, girl.” The mare moved forward, and Raina rode slowly, enjoying the freshness and the fullness and the goodness of late morning. Finally she spotted a herd of sheep and lifted the mare to a slow gallop.
She pulled up, and Yosu, a small man with a dark complexion and white, shiny teeth, smiled at her. “Hello, miss,” he said. “You’re out early this morning.”
“I brought you some food, Yosu. I baked yesterday. I remembered how you liked the cake, so I brought you part of it.”
“Gracias.” Yosu reached out eagerly and took the box that she handed him. He opened it at once, broke off a piece, then chewed and swallowed. His grin flashed again, and he said, “Very good. You’re going to make some man a fine wife.”
“Maybe.” She liked Yosu, and they talked for some time, although she did not dismount. He looked up at her, and finally she smiled and said, “Are you still in love with Juanita?” Juanita was the Mexican daughter of one of the men who helped with the business of the camp.
She saw that Yosu said nothing, but finally he looked up and there was a sadness in his eyes as black as obsidian. “I have nothing to give her.”
Yosu’s answer shocked Raina, and she thought for a moment. It had not occurred to her that the economics of a sheepherder were not at all prosperous. “Well, you have yourself, Yosu.”
Yosu’s head went back, and he stared at her then shook his head almost violently. “No, a man needs something to bring to a woman.” He hesitated, looked to the ground, and then lifted his eyes to her. “Have you ever loved a man, Miss Raina?”
The question troubled Raina, and she bit her lower lip, trying to think of a proper answer. She said, “No, I haven’t—but I know Juanita likes you. My father trusts you. He’s going to raise you up. He’ll make it possible for you to marry.”
“There’s a man who lives in town that likes her. He has a house. A rich man.” Rich might have meant anything, but his idea of riches would be a small frame house and a job.
Raina felt a twinge of sorrow. “Take a chance. Don’t let her get away from you, Yosu. I know she likes you.”
He suddenly smiled and said, “Maybe I will say so.”
“You do that.” Raina touched her heels to the sides of her horse and the mare shot off in a trotting gait. She kept her eyes on the plain before her, noting how it dipped into hollows and rose to slight ridges. The grass was green now, but one day would be gray and dead. It always came back though. The thought of resurrection gave her pleasure.
She was thinking, however, of what Yosu had asked her. “Have you ever loved a man?” The question troubled her, and she thought about Ty. Their meeting had been like nothing she had ever experienced before, and she had thought about it at length many times. As for Ty himself, there was some sort of connection between them that she did not understand. She knew he seemed to admire her, at least her looks, and their meeting and subsequent lives being twined together somehow troubled her.
Suddenly she thought of George Fairfax, the Englishman, who had dropped into her life. He had settled in Fort Smith for a time, but she was not sure how long he would be there. He admired her, too; she knew that as a woman always knows such things. She had seen warmth in his eyes when he looked at her, but only once had he commented, s
aying, “You have a beauty that I’ve never seen in a woman, Raina. It’s not only outward—any man could see that—-but it’s inward.” What did he mean by that? She pondered this question as she rode along for the next hour.
Buzzards circled up ahead. It may be a sheep that’s lost and dying, she thought. She coaxed her mare into a gallop, and when she came over a rise, she looked down and saw the birds were descending. She called out, and with a flapping sound they all rose into the air. She was shocked to see a man lying on the ground facedown. As she drew close, she saw that his back was bloody. He must be dead.
She pulled up and dropped the reins. Her horse had been trained to stop and wait when the reins were left hanging. She walked over slowly, thinking it was a corpse, but when she got close she saw movement. Suddenly she recognized the side of his face and cried out, “Ty!”
She removed the canteen from the cantle of the saddle and went to him. He groaned as she turned him over, and the sunlight fell on the jagged gash on the side of his head, but she knew the wound in his back was from a bullet. She removed her neckerchief, soaked it with water, and then bathed his face. Carefully she rolled him over and saw that the bullet had struck him high in the back. She was grateful it seemingly had not hit a lung. His horse was gone, and he was lying there alone in the desert. He’s been shot, and somebody left him to die. Looking around the scene, she saw a half-buried sharp rock, and it was bloody. He must have hit his head on that rock. She whispered, “Ty, can you hear me?”
He did not move, and she held the lip of the canteen to his mouth. At first it simply ran down his chin, but then he gulped thirstily, and his eyes fluttered but did not open.
“We’ve got to get you out of here, Ty. You’ll have to help me.” She lowered him carefully then moved over to her mare and led her to stand beside him. He was a big man, and she said, “Ty, you’ve got to help. Hang on to me and try to get up.” At first she thought she could not move him, but then his eyes fluttered and opened. He did not seem to see her; his expression was empty. But when she kept encouraging, he heaved himself and nearly caused her to fall. She led him to the mare. “Lift up your foot. You’ve got to get into the saddle.”
He groaned, and then his eyes opened and he focused on her. “Raina?” he whispered in a creaky voice.
“Yes, it’s me. You’ve got to get on the horse. We’ve got to get you some help.” She helped him guide his left foot into the stirrup, and she said, “Now, I’m going to push you, and you help all you can. Pull yourself into the saddle.” At first she thought it was impossible. He was large, and she was not. But then he managed to rise up and throw his leg over the saddle, and then he swayed. Quickly she mounted behind him, and he was loose and disjointed as she reached her arms around him. She pulled him back to lean against her and said, “Come on, girl,” then turned the mare around and headed back to where she had seen Yosu.
He saw her coming and came at once running, leaving the sheep. “What is it, señorita?”
“It’s Ty. He’s been shot. Take my horse and go to the house. Bring a wagon and blanket for a bed. Go as quick as you can. He needs help.”
“Si. I will be back very soon.”
She said, “Before you go, help me get him in the shade of that sapling.” The two of them managed to lower Ty, and the shade blocked off most of the sun’s rays.
Yosu slipped into the saddle and rode off at a fast gallop.
Raina did not watch him leave but turned her attention to Ty. His lips were baked and parched, and she moistened them with the water in her neckerchief from time to time and occasionally gave him a swallow.
The sun kept up in the sky, and she didn’t know what to do for the wound in his back. Finally his shoulders moved, his head rolled, and his eyes came open. “Where am I, Raina?”
“You’ve been shot, Ty. What happened? Do you remember?”
His words were slow, and his lips were so parched he had to lick them. She gave him another swallow of water, and he said, “I caught somebody moving sheep, but before I could do anything about it, somebody knocked me down.”
“You’ll be all right. I sent Yosu to get a wagon. We’ll take you to the camp. Dad’s good with wounds, and we can send for a doctor.”
He did not answer, and she saw that he was in a state of semiconsciousness. She wanted to question him but saw that he was not able to answer.
Finally he whispered, “Could I have some more water?”
“Yes. Just a few swallows. You can have all you want, but not all at once.”
He swallowed three times, small, tentative swallows of the tepid water, and then looked at her. “That was good. How’d you find me?”
“I was just out visiting one of the sheepherders. I saw buzzards circling.”
“I heard them. They would have got me if you hadn’t come along.”
“Are you in much pain?”
“Head hurts. My back…”
“You took a bullet in the back, but it was high up. I don’t think it hit a lung or anything like that. You hit your head on a rock when you fell. The bullet will have to come out when we get you to a doctor.”
He lay still, and for a time he didn’t speak. Then he said, “You know, Raina, I had strange dreams while I was lying there all shot up and out of it.” He looked up at her.
She saw sadness in him she had never seen before, even when she had found him in jail back when they had first met. “What sort of dreams?”
“About bad things that I’ve done.”
“We all have things that we regret.”
He began to speak and tell her about his best friend who had died.
“You didn’t hurt him. It was an accident.”
“I’ve never forgotten it, but the worst dream was about a young woman. Now—” He broke off and took a deep breath as he grimaced.
Raina knew that talking was taking a lot out of him, but she thought it was better he stay awake, so she encouraged him to go on. “What was her name?”
“Evelyn. She was the first girl I ever courted. No more than a girl really.”
“Did you love her, Ty?”
“I thought I did, but I found out different.”
“Found out how?”
He shut his eyes, and she saw a quiver go through his whole body. “She told me she was going to have a baby. It scared me. I wasn’t ready for that. I ran away and left her, Raina. Been years ago, but I still remember her. I wonder what happened to her. If she had a boy or a girl, and if she found a man to take care of her and the child or gave the child to another family. I think about it almost every day. Never gotten away from it.”
“Did you ever think about going back and looking for her?”
“By the time I reached the point I was ready to do that, it was too late. It was three years after I had left, and I knew whatever she had decided to do, it was done.”
The wind began to whistle, blowing the loose, sandy soil across the plains. She looked up and saw far off a herd of pronghorn in their beautiful run, bounding into the air seemingly effortlessly. Then she looked back and said, “I’m sorry, Ty, but you can’t live forever with a mistake you made.”
“After I dreamed about Evelyn, I began thinking about what your pa said in his sermon. He said, ‘God made every man and every woman for a purpose,’ and that scares me.”
“Why should it scare you, Ty?”
“Because I don’t have any purpose, Raina. I’m just like a tumbleweed blowing wherever the wind takes it. I’m no good to anybody.”
“Did you dream anything else?”
“No, but every time I’d come to, I’d think about God, and I was afraid I was going to die.” He moved, turning his face away from the sun. “I’ve never been afraid of much of anything. Didn’t have sense enough, I guess, but I was afraid of dying.”
“I think most of us are when we think about it.”
“I’ve been in some tight spots. Nearly died a couple times. You know that better than most. But this was diff
erent. It was like I was standing on a precipice. Below there was a horrible blackness. I was about to step off into it. I remembered a friend of mine who died at nineteen. When he died, he cried out, ‘I never done anything. I never had a wife or a family. Now I never will.’ That scared me, Raina.”
Raina kept him talking even though his head nodded from time to time. Finally she saw Yosu coming with a wagon and one of the other sheepherders.
Yosu pulled the team up and said, “I came as quick as I could.”
“Help me get him into the wagon.”
“We have made a bed. I told your dad. He’s going to try to get a doctor there, but if he can’t, we’ll take him to Fort Smith.”
Carefully the two men picked up Ty with some struggle and put him into the wagon. She got on her horse, and the two men mounted the wagon.
She said, “Drive slow and avoid the worst of the ruts if you can, Yosu.”
He nodded and said, “Get up!” and the team moved forward.
Leoma had learned about Ty’s being shot from one of the hands. She immediately set out toward Vernay’s place to see him. She had not traveled far when she looked up and saw George Fairfax coming toward her driving a buggy. She said at once, “Did you hear about Ty?”
George was wearing a fine suit as usual, but when he stopped, surprise washed across his face. “What about him?”
“He was shot.”
“Shot? Is he all right?”
“I think he is now. He would have died, but Raina found him out lying on the plains. She and the sheepherders got him back to the camp, and her father evidently knows something about bullet wounds. He got the bullet out. They brought a doctor out to check on him, and he said it wasn’t too serious. He was just dehydrated. However, he also said that Ty would have died if Raina hadn’t found him. I’m going out to see him now.”
The Western Justice Trilogy Page 68