Under the Distant Sky

by Al Lacy

  Hannah bit her lip and held Polly tighter. “Yes. God will take care of her.”

  Suddenly three shots ripped through the night in swift succession.

  Out on the prairie, to the southeast of the circle of wagons, the men were converging on a low spot beyond a grassy rise.

  When Solomon limped up with Chris, Lloyd Marlin, and Tony Cuzak at his side, he saw his little daughter sitting on the ground in a circle of lantern light. Donald and Buck Mylan knelt close to her, with Jock Weathers and Dave Croft, who were part of their team, standing over them.

  In the crook of Patty Ruth’s arm was Ulysses Cooper, and on the ground next to her was a young jackrabbit. She was stroking its long, furry ears.

  Solomon went to his knees before his little daughter and said, “Honey, why did you leave the wagon?”

  Patty Ruth’s lips quivered as the night wind plucked at loose strands of her hair. “Because… because I was mad. I didn’ want to stay in the wagon. An’… well, Papa, I was feelin’ sorry for myself. I was sorta all mixed up. So I decided to jis’ take a walk.”

  “Mm-hmm. And what about this jackrabbit?”

  “I foun’ ’im when I was walkin’. When he didn’ run from me, I knew he mus’ be hurt.” She looked down at the rabbit. “He’s not very old, Papa. An’…an’ I think his hind legs are broke. I was gonna bring him to the camp, but when I tried to pick him up, he scratched me. I didn’ want to leave ’im here all alone, bein’ hurt, so I stayed with ’im. I figured you would come lookin’ for me.”

  Solomon caressed his little girl’s cheek. “You did wrong to disobey me and leave the wagon, Patty Ruth. Do you understand that?”

  She blinked. “Yes, Papa.”

  “Your mother is back at the camp, all torn up with worry that something bad has happened to you.”

  Patty Ruth’s free hand was still stroking the rabbit. The tears spilled down her freckled cheeks in tiny rivulets. Sniffling, she said, “I’ve been real bad, haven’t I, Papa?”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “Are you gonna spank me?”

  “Well, that depends. Do you think you’ve learned your lesson about disobeying Papa when he tells you to stay in the wagon until you can straighten up?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Then there won’t be a spanking.”

  The relief on Patty Ruth’s face was almost comical. She looked down at the rabbit. “Can we take him to the camp and take care of him, Papa?”

  “Sure, honey. Let’s take a look at him.”

  The men drew closer with their lanterns as Solomon carefully examined the young jackrabbit. It was frightened and tried to scratch him, but he was able to examine it.

  “The legs aren’t broken,” he said for all to hear. “Somehow the little fella has been injured, but we’ll take him with us and nurse him back to health.”

  Ezra bent down. “Would you like me to carry him, Patty Ruth? I’ve handled jackrabbits before.”

  “Uh-huh. Thank you, Mr. Comstock.”

  Ezra picked up the rabbit by the nape of the neck, and Solomon took Patty Ruth in his arms. They hugged each other tight, and Patty Ruth began to cry again. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll try not to be bad any more.”

  “All right, sweetheart. Let’s get back to the camp so your mama and Mary Beth and B. J. will know you’re okay.”

  The moon was fully covered by clouds and the wind was blowing hard as the group entered the circle of wagons. There was great rejoicing when the women and children saw Patty Ruth in her father’s arms, clutching Ulysses.

  Patty Ruth was quickly transferred to Hannah’s arms, and she hugged her mother fiercely and wept, saying, “I’m sorry, Mama. Papa didn’ spank me ’cause I told ’im I’ve learned my lesson. I shouldn’ have left the wagon. Please forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven, honey. I love my baby girl.”

  “I love my mama, too.”

  Patty Ruth’s attention was drawn to Polly Winters, who stood patiently looking up, waiting for a chance to speak.

  “Hi, Patty Ruth. I sure am glad God took care of you. Would you like to ride in our wagon tomorrow?”

  “Uh-huh. If Mama says it’s all right.”

  “That’ll be fine, Polly,” Hannah said.

  While Polly and Patty Ruth were talking, Ezra held up the jackrabbit and explained to the small crowd that Patty Ruth had found it injured and wouldn’t leave it. This broke the tension, and suddenly everyone began talking at once and drifting toward their own campfires and wagons.

  “Tell you what, folks,” Ezra Comstock called out. “The way the wind is blowin’, and the feel I’ve got in my bones, I’d say we’ve got a healthy storm movin’ in. We’d best make sure our animals are secured and tighten the covers on the wagons.”

  As people hastened to follow Ezra’s advice, Solomon said, “Hannah, our animals are secured right here, and the wagon cover is down tight already. So I’m going to finish my repair job on the Oakley wheel. It will only take another half hour or so.”

  “All right, darling. I’ll get the children ready for bed.”

  As he started to walk away, Patty Ruth called, “Papa…”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Thank you for forgivin’ me.”

  “I love you, sweetie. When you admit you’ve done wrong, and show you’re sorry for it, I would be wrong not to forgive you.”

  Solomon had just finished his work on the wagon wheel and was putting it back on the wagon when the rain started to fall. Blue-white daggers of lightning lashed the sky and thunder shook the earth as the howling wind accelerated the rain’s force.

  People dashed to their wagons, bending their heads against the storm. Solomon and Cecil were soaked to the skin by the time they had the wheel back on the axle.

  Lanterns shone dully through the canvas-covered wagon walls, giving vague light to the circle. Walt Cuzak’s sons Frank, Gordon, and Edmund had climbed inside Walt’s wagon to play poker.

  “Where’s Dwight?” Walt asked, as he turned up the overhead lantern.

  “Dunno,” Frank said. “He knew we were playin’ poker tonight. Maybe he’ll be along in a minute.”

  Walt’s features turned stony as he said, “Course, no need askin’ about your little brother. He thinks he’s too good to hang around the likes of us anymore.”

  “Too bad about him,” Edmund said. “I used to have high hopes for the kid.”

  Walt nodded. “He got too many genes from your mother, I guess.”

  Walt had successfully turned his four older sons against the memory of their mother. He had drilled it into them that she was nothing but a religious fanatic ever since she made friends with “Bible-jabbering” neighbors when Frank was their only child. The neighbors had dragged her off to church, and the next thing Walt knew, Mariana was telling him she had become a Christian, and was inviting him to church, too.

  From that time on, Walt had felt plagued with Mariana’s talk about Jesus Christ, until he angrily told her to shut up about it. He had to admit that Mariana was a better wife and mother after becoming a Christian, but he always felt uncomfortable when she prayed at the table before eating, and came home from church looking so happy. As the boys grew older, she took them to church and taught them Bible verses.

  Finally, he put his foot down. His boys weren’t going to Sunday school or church anymore, and Mariana was forbidden to teach them any more Bible. It bothered him because she wouldn’t lash back at him. She was always so sweet and kind. Periodically, she would slip in a word about Jesus Christ, or heaven and hell. Walt hated it, but he didn’t leave her because he needed her to care for the house, cook the meals, and take care of his boys.

  When Mariana died giving birth to Tony. Walt was glad she was gone. He hired a nursemaid and housekeeper, making sure, first, that the woman wasn’t a religious fanatic.

  “Too bad about those genes,” Gordon said. “Tony never will be part of us.”

  Walt opened a deck of cards and started shuffl
ing them. “Yeah. Right now he’s probably out there in the rain bein’ a Good Samaritan to somebody. Never thinks of himself. Always doin’ for somebody else. That’s stupid. My philosophy is take care of ol’ number one.”

  “Right, Pa,” Frank said with a nod.

  Edmund pulled a small wooden box from a larger one and dumped the chips on the small table.

  “I’m so ashamed of Tony,” Walt continued. “I hate for anyone to know he’s my son. He’s soft. Not tough like you boys. And now that religious nut, Solomon Cooper, is workin’ on him. I’m scared to death he’s gonna make a Christian outta that kid. Then he’ll be gone, for sure. Havin’ your old lady a fanatic was enough. Sure hate to think of havin’ another religious fool in the family.”

  “Maybe you oughtta write him off and disown him,” Edmund said. “Send him packin’. Then we won’t have to share any of the gold with him.”

  “Just might do that.”

  At the Oakley wagon, Solomon and Cecil were getting their tools picked up when Tony Cuzak came dashing up. “Can you men come? The wind just tore the canvas off Maudie and Elmer Holden’s wagon! The old folks are getting soaked! Curtis is trying to get the cover back on, but he needs help!”

  “Let’s go!” Solomon shouted.

  Curtis already had Lafe Tolliver helping him when Tony returned with Cecil and Solomon.

  Elmer and Maudie sat huddled in their wagon, rain drenching them and everything around them.

  “Just hang on, folks!” Solomon shouted. “We’ll have the cover back on in a few minutes!”

  At the Tolliver wagon, Vanessa was sitting on a wooden box, wrapped in a shawl, hoping the Holden’s canvas top could be replaced quickly so that Lafe could get back to her. She hated thunderstorms, and this was a bad one. She was glad, at least, that Lafe had made sure their own canvas was secured.

  Vanessa picked up a book and tilted it toward the nearby lantern to read. But the whine of the wind and the pelting rain was too much. She couldn’t concentrate. Lightning cracked overhead and thunder boomed.

  Suddenly a fierce gust of wind worked the canvas loose and began slapping it against wood. Vanessa strained to grasp the loose cord, but it whipped just beyond her reach as the rain pelted her face. There was nothing left but to climb down from the wagon and tie the flap in place.

  The wind blurred her vision as she bent to let down the tailgate. In the same instant she saw the dark form of a man standing no more than three feet away. Her shawl slipped from her shoulders as she straightened and the dripping-wet man pressed himself against the tailgate, taking hold of the flapping canvas cover.

  Lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the man’s features.

  Vanessa’s heart jumped wildly as she recognized Dwight Cuzak. “Wh-what do you want?”

  “Hello, honey. I saw Lafe over at the Holden wagon. Thought maybe you might be lonely.”

  Thunder shook the ground as Vanessa cried, “Get away from me!”

  “I notice you’re having trouble with that flap, honey. I’ll fix it for you, then in appreciation you will no doubt invite me in out of the rain, like any good neighbor would do.”

  “You leave right now or I’ll scream!”

  Dwight laughed, brushing water from his eyes. “Who’s gonna hear you the way this storm is carryin’ on? No sense bein’ unfriendly, honey. Just a minute. I’ll fix that flap for you.”

  While he tied the flap, Vanessa grabbed the canvas covering and tried to tie it over the rear opening, but her hands were trembling, and she couldn’t make a knot.

  Dwight jerked the canvas from her hands and grabbed her wrist. “Flap’s secured, honey. Are you gonna invite me in?”

  She shook her head, struggling against his strong grip. Dwight pulled her closer and bent over the tailgate, curling his other hand behind her neck. She made a mewing sound as he pressed his lips to hers and held the kiss for a long moment. When he released her, Vanessa stumbled back in revulsion, wiping her mouth.

  When the loose canvas fell back across the opening, Dwight pushed it aside and held it there, saying, “If you tell your husband, he’ll no doubt come after me. But if he does, I’ll kill ’im! You’d best be thankful for the thrill you just had and keep quiet about it. Anybody sees me here, I was just bein’ a gentleman and tyin’ down the flap for you.”

  Vanessa grabbed the canvas cover from his hand and jerked it into place, leaving him standing in the rain. She held her breath until she heard his steps splashing away, then worked at tying the end cover. It took several minutes for her trembling hands to accomplish the task. At last she turned and went to the lantern, holding her hands over the top of the glass chimney to warm them.

  Suddenly the enormity of what had just happened flooded her and she started to gag, wiping her mouth again and again as the nausea came in waves. She trembled all over, but it was more from wrath than from being soaked to the skin.

  Vanessa wanted to tell her husband what that obnoxious man had done, but the look in Dwight’s eyes when he’d warned her was enough to fill her with fear. Best just to let it go.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next morning, as soon as people were up and building fires, Curtis Holden went about the camp, asking people for a stick or two of dry wood. Everyone knew about the canvas top blowing off his grandparents’ wagon and were glad to share their wood.

  Curtis had visited four wagons when he came to Walt Cuzak’s.

  “So what’re you doin’, Holden?” Walt asked. “Passin’ out wood?”

  Frank and Edmund chortled.

  “No, I’m askin’ folks to donate a little so my grandparents can have a fire this morning.”

  Father and sons exchanged glances. “We ain’t got no spare wood,” Walt said.

  Curtis smiled in a friendly manner and turned away, saying, “Well, thanks just the same. I know you’d share if you had it.”

  Edmund snorted in derision. “Sure we would,” he said in a low voice. “Maybe when the north pole becomes a tropical paradise.”

  Soon Curtis came to the Marlin wagon where Deborah and her brother-in-law were standing over a smoking fire.

  “Good morning,” Curtis said, looking at Deborah with adoring eyes.

  “Hey, how about me?” Lloyd asked. “Do I get a ‘good morning’ too?”

  Curtis adjusted the wood in his arms and laughed. “Oh, sure, Lloyd. Good morning to you!”

  “And how about us?” came Suzanne’s melodic voice, as she stood near the rear of the wagon with baby James in her arms.

  “Well, good morning to James and his mother, too!” Curtis said with a chuckle.

  Lloyd glanced at the bundle in Curtis’s arms. “Are you gathering wood for your grandparents?”

  “Well, let’s say I’m trying. I was just at Walt Cuzak’s wagon. Didn’t fare too well there.”

  Lloyd laughed. “You really didn’t expect to, did you?”

  “Not really. Just thought I’d give those malcontents an opportunity to reform.”

  “Well, we’ve got plenty of dry wood. How about I load your arms the rest of the way, then carry another armload to your wagon?”

  “Don’t need that much, Lloyd. If you could spare enough to fill my arms, I’ll get the rest from others.”

  “No need,” Lloyd said.

  “I’ll help carry wood,” Deborah said. Lloyd smiled knowingly. “Okay. Let’s get you both loaded up.”

  Moments later, Curtis and Deborah were headed toward the Holden wagon.

  “Some storm, huh?” Curtis said, smiling at Deborah.

  “Sure was. And from what I heard Ezra tell a group of the men, we’re liable to get some more just like it. He said severe storms like that run in cycles. Whenever the first one hits, you can look for several before they ease down to simple rain showers.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to tough it through them.”

  The elderly Holdens had watched the young couple’s approach all the way across the open circle, and now greeted them wit
h a big smile. To Elmer and Maudie, it was quite evident that their grandson had found the woman he wanted to marry.

  Curtis dropped the wood from his arms and quickly took the load out of Deborah’s. “We can get a fire going now,” he said to his grandparents. “Most of the wood came from the Marlins.”

  “You should’ve hollered,” Elmer said. “I could have carried what Deborah’s carryin’.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Holden… it wasn’t that heavy.”

  Soon Curtis had a fire going and Maudie began preparing breakfast. Elmer decided to give Curtis a little push and turned to Deborah. “If you’d like to ride in our wagon today, you’re plenty welcome, Deborah. Maudie and I can ride in the back so’s you love birds can have a little… ah… privacy.”

  Deborah’s cheeks flushed.

  “Elmer!” Maudie said. “You’ve done gone and embarrassed them!”

  The old man snickered. “Well now, Ma, my eyesight ain’t what it once ’twas, but I know what young folks look like when the lovebug has bit ’em!”

  Curtis cleared his throat nervously. “Deborah, you’ll have to excuse Grandpa. He’s not much for tact.”

  “It’s all right, Curtis,” she said, and smiled.

  “Then, would you like to ride with us today?”

  “Of course.”

  “Maybe we could even walk alongside the wagon and let Grandpa hold the reins for a while. Helps the oxen when we lighten the load, you know.”

  “Certainly. We’ll walk as long as you want to.”

  At the lead wagon, Ezra and his nephew were standing at the tailgate, eating breakfast and talking to Chuck Lander and Hank Norwood, whose sons drove supply wagons for Solomon Cooper.

  “So you really think we’ll have more storms like the one last night, Ezra?” Hank asked.

  “Prob’ly a half-dozen or so, yep.”

  The four men noticed Mary Beth and Patty Ruth Cooper coming toward them with Biggie trotting alongside. And of course Patty Ruth carried Ulysses.