Ride Away

by Smith, Cotton

  “Sure, that we have. You go ahead. Bina be most glad to see you,” Silka said. “I want closer look at stallion first.”

  “Well, he’s a handsome one,” Blue said, stepping inside and laying his package on the table near the door.

  Hurrying from the kitchen, Bina welcomed him with a long embrace. Kissing wasn’t something Apaches did, but she took to it enthusiastically on occasion. She was a bright part of the Corrigan family, with an inviting smile and warm eyes. Their house matched her personality. Warm and definitely accented in blue, her favorite color. Even the sofa was blue. A wall cabinet held a collection of small items, also mainly blue. He liked to think her emphasis on blue was because his name was the same as the color.

  Over coffee, he shared what had happened at the station and in El Paso. Bina offered no comment about Holt, or James Hannah, or Agon Bordner, but said Jeremy Regan was asleep, as were their two children, Matthew and Mary Jo. All three had spent the morning riding with Silka.

  “How is Jeremy doing?” Blue asked, sipping the strong coffee.

  “Well, as good as one could expect, I think. He misses his mom and dad something fierce,” she said. “But he never grumbles. I think he really likes being with Matthew—and Matthew likes him around. So does Mary Jo.”

  “That’s good. It’ll take time.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “I’ve been thinking we should adopt him. If he’s willing. Make him a part of . . . us.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Bina. Knew you would think of somehow helping the boy, so I got you a present in El Paso. Hope you like it.” He got up and handed the wrapped brown-paper package to her.

  Smiling, she opened the gift and withdrew a straw hat decorated with fake wildflowers and blue ribbons to tie under her chin to hold it place.

  She stood and put it on. “Oh, Blue it’s beautiful. I love it, Blue. I love you.” Her kiss was an invitation.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Morning’s cooling breezes had disappeared around the Forsyth station. Hermann Beinrigt and Billy Lee Montez had a fresh team waiting for the expected stage coming from El Paso. The horses stood in the corral, ready to be hooked up and came with Billy’s usual unneeded advice. Two days ago, Tade Balkins had brought in a stage from there and told them to expect a visit from Willard Epson on the next stage. Tade liked Atlee and the way she had run the station and wanted her to stay in charge.

  Deed Corrigan watched the two men. He was glad Olivia was busy helping in the kitchen because he wanted to be alone. Lately, Benjamin had been spending time with him too, usually with the horses. This morning, however, the boy was doing schoolwork as mandated by his mother.

  Deed’s right hand was weak so he continued to carry his Remington revolver shoved into his pants for left-hand usage. Years ago, Silka had insisted he learn to handle all weapons with either hand, so it wasn’t difficult, just slower.

  The young gunfighter paused at the barn door and listened to the land. Shadows had lost control and the heat of the day was increasing. But his mind wasn’t on the coming day, it was time for him to get back to the ranch. Fall roundup was getting close and this autumn’s effort would be more important than ever. The Bar 3, under its new ownership, would bring tension. Hopefully nothing more than that, but it wasn’t likely.

  The Beinrigts had agreed to stay and help Atlee. Hermann was not yet at full strength, but getting better all the time and he was eager to help. Deed knew he wasn’t needed here anymore. Not really. No one said so, but he knew. Of course, he had stayed to be around when the district agent came. With the Beinrigts in place even that wasn’t necessary.

  He walked past the barn, scuffing his boots against the dry dirt. His spurs tried to sing, but only sounded like tinny clatter. At the gray edge of the stage station yard, a coyote appeared.

  “Not today, friend,” he said. “The chickens are not out yet. Go find a rabbit.”

  The scrawny animal disappeared.

  He couldn’t remember feeling so sad since his parents and little sister died. He was being a fool staying here; others may not realize it, but the only reason he remained was to be near Atlee. Just seeing her was like finding a beautiful flower in the middle of winter. He had known other women. Sally Cummins in Wilkon was quite fond of him, but he didn’t care that much for her. It was silly to think about Atlee. At all. The best thing for him to do was to ride away.

  Ride away. Yes, that’s what he must do. He would wait for the arrivals from El Paso. If Willard Epson didn’t come, he would leave anyway. It had been early spring since he last had been at the ranch, taking a herd north as the grass was turning green. That was home . . . or was it? Oh, how he would miss Elizabeth, Benjamin, Cooper . . . and Atlee. Had they become home, his real home? He shook his head to dismiss the thought.

  Billy’s shout brought Deed from his reverie and he wondered if the district agent would be onboard as Tade had said. He hoped Willard Epson would be agreeable, but he still had an uneasy feeling he hadn’t shared with anyone. He rubbed his right hand; the injury was healing nicely. Opening and closing his right fist repeatedly forced the end of stiffness.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Deed saw Atlee Forsyth standing in the doorway of the station. He figured she was wondering the same thing. Surely, the district manager would recognize her value to the stage-line. Surely. He wanted to go over and kiss her good morning, but knew that was ridiculous to even think. He glanced her way again and she smiled as if reading his mind and he blushed.

  The coach banged into the station yard and the team of proud horses strutted to a stop. Billy hurried up and opened the coach door with an enthusiastic greeting, more so than usual. Had he the same feeling about the district agent being onboard?

  The first passenger sitting next to the door was, indeed, Willard Epson. He turned to the woman next to him, said something, and bounded out.

  As, the stout driver swung down from his seat he yelled to Billy, “Hey, Billy, the El Paso Bank was robbed. They’re saying it was the Holt Corrigan gang. Got away with over ten thousand in gold and paper. Posses are combing this part of Texas.”

  “Ten thousand! That is mucho.”

  “You betcha. The bank was holding an army payroll, they said,” the driver declared. “Not everybody’s sayin’ it was Holt Corrigan though. Hell, the bank president hisself claims there’s no way it was. Ain’t that somethin’.”

  Billy glanced at Deed. The young gunfighter shrugged. He wondered if Holt had held up the bank while Blue was in town. Surely Holt wouldn’t do that to his brother if he knew Blue was there.

  The shotgun guard followed the driver from the stage and both headed for the station. Halfway there, the driver stopped and turned around. “Say, Mr. Epson, you’re going to want to have some of Mrs. Forsyth’s eatin’. Best on the line. By far.”

  Even if he hadn’t recognized Epson from Blue’s earlier description, Deed would have realized the tall, long-jawed man coming toward him in the rumpled suit and bowler that didn’t quite fit his head was the district manager. Epson waved his understanding to the retreating driver, then continued to Deed.

  “Mr. Deed Corrigan, I believe.” Willard Epson shifted the briefcase to his left hand and extended his right. “I met your brother in El Paso. Believe he was there on some horse-buying business. I trust he gave you our check and our thanks . . . for helping drive off the Comanches.” He tugged on his bowler in a nervous movement. “Thanks, too, for stepping in here. That was an awful incident.”

  He saw Deed extending his left hand and switched the briefcase back to his right. He wanted to ask about Deed’s right hand, but decided against it.

  “Sorry about the left hand, Mr. Epson, but I sprained it . . . on some harness a few days ago,” Deed lied. He didn’t want to make it sound like he was vital to the station’s continued protection. “Got the money and no thanks needed for my helping here. I wasn’t really needed. Mrs. Forsyth runs quite an operation,” Deed responded. “I assume you’re here to look t
hings over. Best you’ve got, I’ll bet.”

  “Well, perhaps so, but I started out thinking I needed to have a man in charge,” Epson said, his face reddening as he avoided Deed’s stare. “Just wouldn’t be right, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know.” Deed took a step away from Epson.

  “Wait, please,” Epson said, tugging on his soiled paper shirt collar and keeping his eyes on Billy as the one-eyed Mexican began to unhitch the tired horses. “On the trip all I kept hearing from the passengers was that they were looking forward to Mrs. Forsyth’s station and her cooking.” He licked his lips and stared at Deed. “So I thought why not? At least I should give her the chance, you know. Nobody’s talking about our other stations like that. In fact, I’ve been thinking about making it a home station. You know, with sleeping quarters for passengers.” He tried to smile. “And you’ll be here . . . to help.”

  “Actually, Hermann Beinrigt is taking my place. Olivia, his wife, has been an important addition as well,” Deed said. “Hermann really knows his way around horses. Been doing a lot of work.” Deed motioned toward the barn. “He’s over there now. With the new team.”

  “Really? Where are they staying?”

  Deed explained and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in telling Epson of the change.

  “Well, good, I look forward to meeting them,” Epson said. He wanted to add that he was relieved that a Corrigan wasn’t going to be around the station—it made him uneasy with the reputation of the outlaw Holt Corrigan—but didn’t dare express the thought. After all, this Deed Corrigan was a known gunfighter.

  “Good. Both are helping serve now, I believe,” Deed said. “That’s very good news about making this a home station. Mrs. Forsyth will be pleased.” He grinned. “Guess I won’t need that buckboard after all.”

  “Buckboard? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, if you decided the station needed a man running it,” Deed said, “All of us would have been riding out of here within the hour, headed for my ranch.”

  Epson’s jaw dropped and then he began to chuckle. “That’s blackmail, Mr. Corrigan.”

  “No. That would have been justice.”

  “Good enough. I’d better go see Mrs. Forsyth,” Epson said. “I’ll be needing a place to sleep until the inbound stage comes tomorrow.”

  The rest of the day was a blur at the excitement of Epson’s announcement. For Deed, it was bittersweet. It was time to leave.

  Early the next morning, he was saddling his buckskin gelding when Benjamin walked into the stable.

  “Where ya goin’, Deed?” he asked with his hands in his pockets and a hard look on his face.

  “Mornin’, Benjamin. I’ll be heading for my ranch, son,” Deed said, knowing this was part of leaving he wasn’t going to like.

  “You’re leavin’ . . . us? Well, it figures. Never wanted you here anyway. No way you could replace my pa.”

  “Wasn’t trying to replace your pa. Just wanted to help. Make sure the station stayed up and running. Now Hermann and Olivia will be helping your mother,” Deed said, tightening the cinch. “And I’ve got work to do on my ranch. Roundup’s coming.”

  “I-I thought you liked us. Especially Elizabeth, Ma, and Cooper. Maybe not me because of the way I acted but—” The boy’s eyes were reddening.

  Deed turned toward him. “I do like you, a lot, Benjamin. You. Your sister. Your mother. Cooper. All of you. But I can’t stay.”

  “Well, like I said, I shoulda known you’d leave.”

  Deed took a step toward the boy. “Hey, wait a minute, fella. I didn’t say I wouldn’t be back.” He paused and added, “I was going to ask your mother if you could join us for the roundup. You can stay with me at the ranch.”

  Benjamin looked at Deed suspiciously. “You mean it . . . or are you just saying that?”

  “No, I mean it. Really. But your ma will have to say it’s all right.”

  “Let’s go ask her!”

  Benjamin leaped forward and, for the first time since Deed arrived, hugged him. Deed caught and enveloped the boy in his arms.

  Then stepping back and letting him down with his hands on Benjamin’s shoulders, Deed said, “You’ll be a good addition to our roundup. You’re a smart, hard worker and you know horses.”

  “You won’t be sorry. But I am sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I wanted to be Ma’s man.”

  “You are and always will be. Nothing will change that. Now let’s go talk with your mother before I ride.”

  They walked together toward the station, chatting easily. Atlee was standing in the doorway as they approached. Fifteen feet behind them came Billy and Hermann, having just fed the horses.

  “I was just going to call you all in for breakfast,” she said and smiled. “Should have plenty of time to eat before today’s stage gets here.”

  Benjamin jumped onto the porch, barely able to contain his excitement. “Ma, Deed wants me to come to his ranch for the roundup. I can, can’t I?”

  Atlee tried not to look startled at the change in Benjamin and covered it with the question, “What about your schoolwork?”

  The boy frowned momentarily, then said, “I’ll get it done before I go, I promise.”

  Stepping up beside him, Deed put his arm on Benjamin’s shoulder. “I should’ve said something to you first.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Where are you going?”

  He tried to smile, but couldn’t. “Heading for the ranch. You don’t need me here any longer. You got great news from Epson.” He glanced toward Billy and Hermann walking toward them.

  “I see.”

  “Ma, can I? Can I? Please!”

  Her eyes left Deed’s face and focused on her son. “Yes, you can. If you get all your schoolwork done and Mr. Corrigan wants you.”

  “He’ll be a good help, I’m sure,” Deed said, avoiding her returned gaze. “Be a good experience for him, too.”

  “Certainly. What about Elizabeth?” Atlee motioned toward the kitchen. “She’ll be heartbroken to hear you’re leaving and coming back for Benjamin.”

  Deed grimaced. He hadn’t thought of that.

  Crossing her arms, Atlee told her son to wash his hands and face, then asked Deed if it would be possible that Elizabeth could go and play with Blue’s children for the same days that Benjamin was on the roundup with him.

  “Oh, that’s a great idea!” Deed said. “We’ve got plenty of room and Blue’s kids would like having Elizabeth to play with!” He was aware she had taken a step closer to him and had the feeling she was going to say something else, but didn’t.

  “It’s settled then,” she said finally and reached out to touch his arm. “Come and eat before you go. Mr. Epson’s already at the table.”

  “I’m not surprised. He made a smart decision yesterday. Congratulations!”

  Atlee smiled, withdrew her hand to push back a stray lock of hair that had escaped from her tight bun. “He told me you were going to take all of us away from here if he didn’t give me the job.”

  “Well, I might’ve said something like that.” Deed rubbed his chin and watched Benjamin hurry past them and into the station.

  Atlee smiled. “That is so like you, Deed. Very kind.” She looked into his face. “Would you really have done that?”

  He could feel redness crawling up his neck. “Yes. I would have, if you’d have come.” He looked back at her. “I’m sorry about not asking you about Benjamin earlier. He saw me saddling up and was upset. It just sorta came to me.”

  “Of course he was upset. Though he didn’t show it, I think he was starting to change his feelings about you. You mean a lot to him. To both children.”

  “Losing your pa is rough for a whole family, but for a boy it is especially so because he feels he has to become the man of the house. I was lucky. I had two older brothers and Silka to be the men of the house.”

  Glancing toward the washstand, Deed saw Billy and Hermann. Not looking at her, he said, “I’ll wash up and be in. Be goo
d to hit the trail with a full stomach.”

  Atlee’s voice was crisp. “Did you plan on riding out without even saying good-bye?”

  “Well, no. No. I wouldn’t have done that.”

  “I would hope not.” She touched his arm again. “You know you’re an important part of... this family.”

  Billy and Hermann joined them on the porch and exchanged morning pleasantries, mostly about the weather. Neither man was aware Deed planned on leaving and both were upset by the news.

  “Ich bin nicht zo strong yet,” Hermann Beinrigt declared, waving his arms. “Ve be needing du. Ja.”

  Billy blurted something that was mostly Spanish; the only word Deed caught was Comanches. Without waiting for Deed’s response, Atlee spun and went inside.

  Quietly, the young gunfighter said, “Now that Mrs. Forsyth has been given the manager’s job, I need to get back to the ranch.” He cocked his head. “But I’ll be back. Benjamin’s going to help with our roundup.”

  Both men thought that was a good idea as the threesome headed for the washstand. A tin basin awaited with a bucket of fresh water, a bar of soap with three bubbles bursting on its surface, and a roller towel. They washed up without talking, then entered the station. All three held their hats in their hands. Benjamin, Elizabeth, and Willard Epson were already at the table. The fireplace was aglow with new wood and stirred ashes. Wonderful breakfast smells rushed to meet them. Even for Atlee, the breakfast was grand. Hotcakes, warm syrup, eggs, bacon, fresh biscuits, and apple-butter jam and hot coffee.

  A bit of syrup stuck to his chin, Epson greeted Deed with a waving fork. “Morning, Deed. Better sit down before I eat up all the profits. I can see why everybody’s raving about the food here.” He stuffed a piece of pancake and egg into his mouth. “You know, even after the railroads are going again in Texas, this would be an excellent spot for a home station.”

  “Makes sense to me.” Deed headed for the table as Billy and Hermann found chairs.