“Got to see about Sam. Guess I’ll go back East and find his grandmother. Would you kinda look in on him until I find his relatives? You’ve been good to the boy. Goodness knows, I haven’t been very helpful. Don’t know how long I’ll be, though, but I’d sure be grateful.” He got to his feet, saying in an off-handed fashion as he turned to go, “You might ask Bron about the cow—maybe she and Parris would like to find a place for her in town. You can keep the yearling for yourselves.”
His words came easily, but there was something in the tone that made Jeanne ask, “Why would Parris want to know about Bron’s cow?”
“Why, I guess they’ll be making a match of it one day,” Zack said. He didn’t see the look of surprise passing between the couple, and he went on. “I’ll put the feed inside for you, John.”
“No, I’ll get it, Zack.” Crenna stepped outside to take the feed off the horse, and as Zack turned to follow, Jeanne caught his arm.
“Zack,” she said, her eyes somber, “you’ve been good to me. If you hadn’t taken me, I don’t like to think about what I’d be—Hawk and I would have been lost.”
“I’m the one to thank you, Jeanne. What would Sam have done without you?”
Warmth flowed into her face. “You’re not meant to be a hermit, Zack. You tried it once—and it didn’t work. Don’t do it again.”
She was trying to tell him something, but it escaped him. “I’ll think of you often, Jeanne. Of you and John and Hawk—I’ll let you all know about Sam. God bless you!”
He walked out and swung into the saddle, shook John’s hand, and waved to Jeanne, who was standing in the doorway, then rode out.
Crenna went over and picked up Hawk, who was trying to get out the door, and put his arm around Jeanne. He stared after Zack and said softly, “He’s got a big hurting in him.” Then he smiled fondly at her. “I’ll never understand why you turned down a good-looking fellow like that for an ugly bird like me.”
Jeanne reached out and pulled his head down and kissed him. A light of mischief touched her eyes and she said, “Maybe I was afraid that if I had a handsome husband, some girl would run off with him.” When he laughed, she looked toward the trail where Winslow was just disappearing into the trees. “He’s a good man, John—but he’s not my man.” She smiled at him, and they went back inside the cabin.
****
The breaking of the iron cold by the warm winds had brought the miners out of their cabins. As Zack passed along the Gulch, man after man greeted him, and he realized they had come to admire him. He shook hands as he went, and by the time he got to Virginia City, he was feeling an unexpected shock of pleasant recognition.
Riding down Ballard Street, he was met by even more friends, some whose names he didn’t know. Ray Potter came off the sidewalk, a star pinned to his vest. “Glad to see you, Zack.” He saw Zack’s glance at the star, and grinned ruefully, “Yeah, I’m the new law around here. Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
“They couldn’t have found a better man, Ray,” Zack replied, and meant it, for Potter was honest through and through and tough enough to handle the town.
“Miller wants to see you before you get away. It’s just about over. The vigilantes caught up with a whole bunch of the toughs over at Cougar Bend two days ago. They hung Johnny Cooper and Snake Walker. Last week they caught Whiskey Bill Graves, Shears, and Hunter. Miller gave them two hours to either get out of town or hang. They lit out like their tails were on fire. Most of the rest of the gang have left as well.” Potter shook his head. “Miller has got just about all the names crossed off his list.”
“Sounds like the breakup of the Innocents, Ray.” Zack nodded and rode on down the street, thinking of the suddenness of the arrests and executions. He stopped at Pfouts’ store, but rode on when Parris wasn’t there. Steele, too, was out. Zack made his way to the Rainbow Cafe.
Blackie Taylor greeted him with a slap on the shoulder, and once again, Zack was greeted by almost every man who came into the cafe, among them Dutch Beidler, who headed straight for Winslow’s table. “Zack, for a hermit you’re sure a popular fellow!” Then he sobered. “It’s been tough—but it’s over now.”
“Hate to think about all the money that crowd got away with,” Zack remarked.
“Won’t do ’em any good in hell,” Beidler said practically. “Anyway, whiskey took it—and women and gambling. All any of them got out of it was a hole in the ground.”
After finishing his meal, Zack returned to Pfouts’ store. The dapper merchant got up from his desk with a startled expression. “Zack! I was about ready to send a posse after you!”
“Hello, Parris. I hear you and Miller have cleaned up the Gulch.”
“Well, it sure took all of us—and you played a big part, Zack.”
“I should have jumped in a long time ago. If I had, a few good men might still be alive.”
“Can’t live on that kind of regret,” Pfouts told him. “It’s going to be all right now. Yesterday Oliver shipped forty thousand in gold, and it got through fine. Things have changed. It’s like a malignant thing has been cut out!”
“Glad to hear that. How’s Buck been doing? And Lillian?”
“Why, you wouldn’t believe it!” Parris said. “Buck’s been working for me steady since my clerk left, and that girl’s gotten over her trouble. Always smiling. She’s been mostly taking care of Sam. He’s fine as silk, by the way.” He scratched his head, and grinned. “They’re both young, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make a match of it in a couple of years, Zack.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Zack murmured. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Parris, got a favor to ask.”
“Name it!”
“Well, I’m pulling out.” He saw Pfouts’ surprise, but said quickly, “I’m going back East to see Sam’s grandmother, to find a place for him. Jeanne told me she’d brought the boy to Bron. Thanks for finding a house for them all. What I’d like for you to do is sell my place. Use the money to see that Buck and Lillian and the kids are taken care of.”
“Why, Zack,” Parris objected, “you don’t want to do that. You’ve made a name for yourself in this country. Don’t know of a man more highly respected.” He peered at Zack sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Guess I’m just a wandering man. Will you do it?”
“Of course. If you ask it, yes.” Something was bothering Pfouts and he said, “Zack, you came here to be a hermit. You’re not cut out for that kind of life. No man is, I think. Stay and make your life here. Watch Sam grow up here—and maybe see Buck and Lillian get married.”
“I’d like to see you in about twenty years, Parris,” Zack smiled. “Richest man in the state, wife and family around you—”
Parris shrugged. “Not certain about that.”
“Hey, you were born for it!” he said. “Now, I’ll see Simpson and have him draw up some sort of paper to take care of selling the place when I’m gone.”
“Have you seen Bron?” Pfouts asked, giving Zack a sharp glance.
“Not yet. Figured I’d go by. How’s she feeling?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Been busy with the church. Making big plans for the Indian work.”
“Guess you two are able to handle that.” Zack tried a smile on, and then put out his hand. “I know you’ll take care of her, Parris. You two are a lot alike.”
“In some ways, yes,” Pfouts replied, and there was a shadow in his eyes that made Winslow wonder. “In other ways—we are not.” Then he said bruskly, “Go see Bron first—then maybe Simpson. The house is the two-story white one on the road out of town, just down from Sloan’s smithy.”
Zack nodded and left the store, puzzled by Pfouts’ attitude. “He ought to be on top of the world,” he murmured as he mounted Ornery and turned toward the south end of town.
He saw the house as he passed the blacksmith’s shop, and got down with some apprehension. He tied his horse to the rack on the street, then walked up and knocked.
/>
Before he could collect his thoughts, Bron stood before him. She was wearing a dress he’d never seen, a dark green that picked up the color of her eyes. He had forgotten how her hair shone—now smooth waves flowing down her back, almost to her waist.
He had caught her by surprise, for her eyes grew larger and she put one hand over her heart in a gesture that somehow seemed more feminine than anything in the world. He had forgotten how beautiful she was, and was speechless for a moment.
“Why . . . Zack!” she murmured. “Come in.” She stepped aside and he entered, removing his hat. “The children are both asleep—and Sam too.” She smiled, adding, “I think it’s the first time since we’ve been here that they’ve all napped at the same time.”
“I should have come down sooner—to see about them.” He could not get over how lovely she was, the captivating curve of her lips. “It was good of you to take care of Sam.”
“Oh, he’s a joy!” she said quickly. Then a thought came to her, and she asked quickly, “You’ve come to take him, then?”
He was surprised by the sudden alarm in her eyes. “Well, not quite.” He felt awkward, and the words came slowly. “I’ve let you take care of my problems too long, Bron.” She said nothing, so he blundered on, “I’ve got to do things different. Can’t live out in the woods with a little one and no one to take care of him.”
“And what will you do, then?” she asked quietly. “Find you a wife, I suppose?”
He laughed shortly. “Who’d go live in the woods with a hermit like me and a kid? No, I’m going to sell out, Bron. Time to move on.”
She stared at him, her lips pressed together. She seemed angry, and he could not figure out why, so he said, “I talked to Parris. Asked him sell the place and use the money to take care of Buck and Lillian and the kids.”
“I see.” Bron’s eyes narrowed. “And what will you do with Sam?”
“Guess I’ll take him to his grandmother back East as soon as I can—if she can help.”
There was a stubbornness in the set of Bron’s lips, and she drew her eyebrows together in an expression he’d seen before when she was angry. “And after you make that visit, what will you do with him for the next twenty years?” she asked sharply.
He grew frustrated and said rashly, “Bron—I don’t have a blueprint! I’m just trying to do the right thing. I guess you and Parris don’t want a kid not your own, and it’s all I can think of.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “If there ever comes a time when I don’t want a boy like Sam, look for me in the grave!” she snapped. “But what’s Parris got to do with Sam?”
“Why—I thought . . . !” Zack was on shaky ground, and he finished lamely, “Well . . . I took it for granted that you two would get married, Bron.”
“Well, devil fly off!” she cried, striking him a sharp blow on the chest. “Like an old mule you are, Zacharias Winslow!”
He saw the tears rim her eyes, and said, “Why, Bron—what did I say?”
“Nothing!” she retorted, and bit her lips. “Well, go on and do it then! You’ve run away from life once—so I know you can do it again!”
He was bewildered by her anger, and shifted his feet helplessly. She glared at him, her eyes damp, her fists clenched.
He sighed, “I don’t understand you, Bron.”
“You never have!” she shot back.
Zack watched her face, and gave up. “I’m just not a discerning man, I guess. I’ve been a fool, trying to run away from life. I know that. But one good thing’s come out of all this.” He smiled. “I’ve been running from God a long time, Bron, but He finally caught up with me!”
She stood transfixed as he told her of his desperate search for God. “Then,” he said with wonder in his bright blue eyes, “I knelt down and called on Jesus—and He came in! It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted. “I thought I’d fall on the floor or shout, maybe. But it wasn’t like that at all.”
“What was it like, Zacharias?” she whispered.
“Why, it’s hard to say,” he answered. “Ever since that moment, Bron, there’s been a peace that’s like nothing else. Jesus Christ somehow came in—and He’ll never leave me. Is that the way it is?”
“That’s the way, Zack!”
He drew his shoulders back and forced a smile. “Well, I thought you’d like to know,” adding, “I’ll come back later when Sam’s awake.”
She reached out and grasped the front of his coat. “And you think I’ll let you do it?”
He looked down at the hand fastened to his coat, then into eyes that had changed from anger to soft pleading. “Let me do what, Bron?” he asked, confused.
She threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly.
“Like an old eel you are!” she whispered. “But you’ll not wiggle out this time, hermit or no!” She pulled his head down and kissed him with such ardor that his arms automatically enveloped her. She was firm and yet soft in his arms, and when she finally let him go, she said tremulously, “Do I have to do it all?”
“I—I don’t know what you mean, Bron,” he stuttered, then clasped her firmly. “I’m just a dumb hermit—but you shouldn’t have kissed me like that!”
“Why not?” she asked demurely, lying in the circle of his arms.
“Because I’m just mean enough to take you up on it!” he said rashly. “I’m a tough bird, Bron, and mean, too. I’ve never tried to fool you about that!”
“That’s been your boast,” she smiled. “I can’t say it’s been something I’ve noticed.”
He held her away from him, his eyes blazing with joy. She was his! “Well,” he cried, “I can see that it’s going to take forty years or so to teach you just how ornery I am!”
She laughed shakily and put her hand on his cheek. “How will you do it?”
“Why, first I’ll marry you—then I’ll carry you off on a honeymoon. And when I bring you back, I’ll make you live with me the rest of your life!”
“Oh, Zack!” she cried, cuddling into his arms, her eyes radiant, “I thought I’d lost you!”
He held her tightly and said with a note of fierce possession, “No, we’re never going to lose each other!”
Before their lips met she whispered, “See how soft you are, Zacharias Winslow!”
GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals, and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children. He and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.
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