Ride The Wild Range

by Cheryl Pierson

  "You sayin' my pa would do somethin' crooked, Marshal? You sayin' he'd take my money away? Spend it on himself?"

  "No – No, son, listen—"

  "'Cause, if you are sayin' that, Marshal, I know it's because you don't know who my pa is. My pa, he tracks Injuns. When he finds 'em doin' what they shouldn't, he kills 'em. He saves young girls from bein' taken by 'em. He rescues young boys when they're captured."

  "Will—" Jacobi tried to break in, but I wouldn't let him. Not this time. "He's the bravest, best man I know, and he does things that even marshals like you can't do."

  "I...didn't know he was your pa." The marshal's face was red, and he seemed to have trouble speaking.

  "Lots of things maybe you didn't know, Marshal," I agreed. "That's why I'm tellin' you now." I gave him a smile. "Pa and Miss Laura are gettin' married soon. And we'll be livin' here, permanent."

  "Oh." The marshal seemed to be at a loss for words, for once. "Well, I – wish you all the very best of luck." He took a step backward.

  I got up from the table. I could feel Miss Laura trying to pull me back with her willpower, but mine was stronger. I took another slow step toward the marshal, and he moved back again.

  "I just wanted you to know, Marshal, 'cause I'd never want anyone to think bad of my pa. He's the best man who ever lived."

  The marshal swallowed hard. He nodded and reached behind him for the door handle. "Just wanted to be sure everything was all right, son." He turned the handle. "Looks like it is."

  "Good of you to stop by, Marshal," Jacobi said as the lawman dodged out into the hallway, then closed the door behind him firmly.

  I turned around. Miss Laura seemed like she might still be embarrassed by that big lie I'd told. She hadn't said a word since she'd sucked in a deep breath earlier.

  But when I looked up at Jacobi, there was nothing of embarrassment written on his face. His jaw was set firm, like he'd come to a hard decision. But there was something almost like relief in his eyes, and the closest thing I'd seen to happiness, as well. The anger and disapproval I'd feared were not there.

  My heart slowed its frantic pounding, and a smile kicked up one corner of his mouth.

  "Will..." He knelt on the floor and put his hands on my shoulders, his dark gaze serious.

  I moistened my lips. "Don't be mad, Jacobi. I just couldn't stand to let him think you done somethin' wrong with that money, when – when you almost died 'cause of me."

  "I'm not mad at you, son." It sounded like Jacobi was havin' trouble comin' up with what he wanted to say, 'cause he was talkin' slow, real thoughtful-like. But I sure was relieved to know he wasn't mad about that whopper I told about him and Miss Laura, and us all settlin' down.

  He didn't say anything about that at all. But his eyes were looking into my soul as he talked. "I was wrong about – about everything," he said. "What you said before about letting Red Eagle win – that's true. I didn't think of it that way until you put it into those words, but...it makes sense. I've been letting things get in the way of – of living. I want to change that."

  "Give up living in the world, you mean?"

  He smiled. "A cabin's a lot easier to make into a home."

  "That farm we were talking about," I said cautiously, "right here in Fort Worth – do you think that might be the place?"

  Jacobi ruffled my hair. "There's someone else we have to consider too, Will."

  I had almost forgotten Miss Laura. She'd been sitting quiet all this time. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were damp, and she looked surprised at Jacobi's words. "What do you think, Miss Laura?" I asked. "Would you want to live there?"

  I was afraid she would refuse. Maybe she wouldn't want to marry Jacobi, after all. Another shadow of doubt crossed my mind. Maybe she wouldn't want me.

  She nodded, looking at me, then at Jacobi. "Yes. Oh, yes!"

  When I looked at Jacobi again, he'd become serious again. "Will, about your family back East..."

  I felt my back bristle like a stray dog.

  Jacobi smiled. "I'll make a compromise with you. I wouldn't feel right by keeping you from them. I know right now, you don't want to go."

  I started to say something, but he held up a hand. "Will, I don't want you to go, either. But...when you become a man—"

  At first, I didn't say anything. Then I nodded. "All right, Jacobi. But I won't stay there."

  He grinned at me. "I know. Still, you need to let them get to know you. Tomorrow, first thing, we'll ride out to the Adams' place and have us a look. The day after that – I think we need to see about getting you in school."

  "But—"

  Jacobi gave me a wink, and I knew he'd heard my heartfelt response to his question a couple of nights earlier. This was just the beginning of fulfilling the dreams both of us had in our lives – his for his son, and me for my future. I was breathing a whole lot easier by the time I went to bed.

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, according to Jacobi's plan, I ran down to Mr. Holland's livery with the required deposit and rented us a spring-board wagon. I drove it back up to the hotel and waited, anxious to get out to the Adams place and take a look.

  I'd dreamed again of the cabin. In my dream, I could see everything clearly, including the horses in the corral, the barn with one door open, and the small cabin itself, smoke curling out of the chimney again. Of course, I knew that dreams were made of the heart's desire, as Mama had always said. Probably when we got to the place Miss Laura and Jacobi had spoken of, it would be nothing at all like the vision in my dream.

  What if someone else had already bought it? My heart sank at the thought. I'd been too excited to sleep last night, my head filled with thoughts and possibilities. There would be another place, if that one was already taken, I tried to reassure myself. But I'd already pinned so much on that particular piece of property it was impossible to try to think of any place else as being quite as good – even though I hadn't seen it. I squirmed on the seat impatiently, wishing they'd hurry up.

  Finally, Jacobi and Miss Laura came out of the hotel together. I set the brake and climbed into the back of the wagon as Jacobi helped Miss Laura up. He climbed up, still a mite stiff, and released the brake.

  "How far is it?" I asked.

  Miss Laura smiled at me. "Not far. We'll be there before you know it."

  She was right, too. None of us were saying much of anything. Jacobi handled the team easily, and as usual, he missed no detail, his eyes scanning the road as he drove. Miss Laura seemed happy to just be with us. She moved a little closer to Jacobi once we got out of town, and he put his arm across the back of the seat.

  That made me smile. The more I was around Jacobi, the more I was becoming like him. I wasn't missing any details, either.

  "It's just over this next hill," Miss Laura said. She turned around and patted my shoulder. "Here, on our side of the road, Will."

  As the property came into view, I felt like my heart would burst.

  It was all I'd seen in my dreams, and more. The corral and livestock pens were posted and gated, which had taken lots of hard work. A couple of the side rails had fallen out of the notches that had been cut for them, but we could fix that, easy. Even if some of the fencing needed repair, the hard work of putting it all up in the first place had already been done.

  The cabin came into view a little farther down the road. Jacobi drew the horses to a slow stop, taking it all in from the top of the rise where we sat.

  Miss Laura looked at him as if to question, but whatever she saw in his face brought a shy smile to her lips.

  "It's lovely, isn't it?" she asked softly.

  He didn't say a word for a few seconds. Then he nodded. "Yeah. It is." He glanced over his shoulder at me. "You think this might fit the bill, son?"

  For some reason, that made my breath catch. No one in my life had ever much cared what I thought about anything, but Jacobi had been different. There had been a bond between us from the very start that had been lacking between my f
ather and me. Maybe it was because of what we'd both lost; because of what had been taken from us, and then given back in a way that was different, but wonderful, all the same.

  "I like it," I answered, keeping my answer short so my emotion wouldn't betray me.

  Jacobi shook the reins and the horses started forward once again. I swallowed hard. I was on my knees looking over the sideboard, watching the fences and corrals and outbuildings go by.

  This place had belonged to someone who had tended to it with lots of love and pride. It made me sad to see the fence rails falling out, laying on the ground. Even though I knew it wouldn't be hard to fix, I knew Mr. Adams, whoever he had been, wouldn't've stood for those rails being on the ground for one minute longer than necessary. I felt a kind of pulling in my chest along with a desire to jump out of that wagon and go do what I could to fix it right then. But, I knew that was silly. It wasn't my business to take care of it. Not yet, anyway.

  Jacobi drew the horses up in front of the cabin and set the brake. He and Miss Laura both sat still, just looking at the little place, as if trying to see any flaws.

  There were none. It seemed perfect. It had been made of logs, but was set on a stone foundation. The door faced eastward, inviting the morning sun to spill through the real leaded glass windows on either side of the entrance.

  Jacobi climbed down and helped Miss Laura from the wagon, and I jumped down beside her. She reached out and put her arm around me, like it wasn't nothin' for either one of us to be ashamed of. An' Jacobi smiled, never sayin' a word to her about how she shouldn't do it.

  "Let's go have a look," Jacobi said, leading the way to the front door.

  Chapter 16

  There was a porch, big enough for some chairs, and steps to sit on in the cool of an evening. As Jacobi opened the door, I looked inside. The front room was a good size, with a stone fireplace, bigger than any I had ever seen. The kitchen was right off from the front room, with a table and chairs that had been left. Everything was dust-covered, but it was all in good shape.

  I pulled out a chair and sat on it, watching Miss Laura walk around slowly, looking at the cabinets and shelves in the kitchen, and the wood stove, still practically new.

  Jacobi had opened up a door, then disappeared. Miss Laura smiled at me and pointed toward a ladder I hadn't seen.

  "I bet there's a loft room, Will. Would you like to have a look?"

  She was right. As I climbed high enough to be able to look over the edge, I thought this must be the one thing I'd never seen in my dreams because I couldn't have imagined how wonderful it could be.

  A hardwood floor covered with braided rugs. A bed tucked into a corner with shelves built on the walls nearby. Those shelves were full of books – books I would soon be able to read, once I started school.

  I thought again of my life before. I thought about Mama, who had meant well, but could never stand up to my father. Papa had imposed his desire on the rest of us, probably much in the same way his own father had done him. My sister, Lisbeth, had been my only companion in that solitary world, and had longed for changes she couldn't have imagined either.

  My mother would have blossomed, showering love upon all of us, had she felt the freedom to do so. Instead, she'd tended her flower garden, her daisies and forget-me-nots and tea roses becoming the objects of her attention since Lisbeth and I could not be.

  My father had come west to try to escape the dictates of his own father. But in doing so, had he truly found the freedom he craved? I didn't believe he had. The price we all paid had not been worth it.

  I lay on the bed, trying it out. I closed my eyes, letting my body absorb the soft comforting valleys of the mattress.

  Lisbeth was dead.

  I wanted to do something to show I remembered her. I would never, ever forget her. But I understood why Jacobi had done what he'd done. He'd protected her the only way he could have. Maybe just living free would be a good way to remember her, I thought.

  The anger was gone. All I felt now was gratitude and sadness for him, having to live with the decision he'd been forced to make.

  Maybe...I was a reminder of that decision. My heart sped up. Could that be the reason he'd been so determined to send me back to my extended family in Boston? I had never thought of that. Now, I had to know.

  I hurtled myself from the bed and climbed down the ladder – the ladder that had only been twelve rungs long climbing up, but seemed like a hundred and twelve climbing down.

  I was aware of Miss Laura humming contentedly in the kitchen. I thought of my dreams of the cabin, of the smoke curling up out of the chimney. Home, my heart seemed to whisper as I set my foot on the ground. But I had to know for sure.

  I ran through the house, toward where I knew the back door would be. I crashed through it, Jacobi's name erupting from me, raw and hoarse. "Jacobi!"

  I understood everything now. And there was nothing more important than letting him know it. I needed to give him his freedom; freedom my father never gave me. Freedom I'd never have gained if our lives had continued as they were. Would I have left home as he had, just to be who I was meant to be? If Jacobi wanted to go back to being a 'citizen of the world' – then I had to let him. I didn't want him feeling bound to me by guilt over Lisbeth's death.

  Just a few days earlier, I'd felt forgiveness wasn't mine to give him. I'd thought it would be wrong to even consider saying such a thing to him.

  But suddenly, I wondered if understanding and forgiveness weren't the same thing. Though he had nothing to forgive of anyone but himself, maybe he didn't realize...

  He'd told me earlier he hadn't understood about how we couldn't allow Red Eagle to win. How, if we didn't go on with our lives, it would be like letting Red Eagle kill our spirits. He said he'd never thought of it like that. Maybe he hadn't thought of this, either – the fact that, though I still didn't feel I needed to forgive him, maybe he needed to hear it from me in order to move on with his life.

  I had to know for sure he wanted me, and not just because of what had already happened and couldn't be undone, no matter what. Our families had been murdered, our lives forever changed, but it didn't mean our lives were bound together because of it.

  "Jacobi!"

  I tore through the door and down the back step, then drew up short.

  Chapter 17

  The slash of beautiful colors put Mama's tiny flower garden to shame. It had not been visible from the road. I'd loved the cabin from the minute Jacobi and Miss Laura talked about it, but I'd dreamed it from my heart weeks before I'd ever known it existed. In my dreams, I'd only seen it from the front of the outside.

  The wonderful loft room with its treasure trove of books had been the first secret surprise that had made me long for this home even more than I'd thought possible.

  But this garden held the answer to everything for both Jacobi, and for me.

  Jacobi stood with his back to me, looking out at the corrals and pens to the right of the cabin. He had to have heard me calling his name, but he didn't turn to face me yet. He raised a hand and swiped it close up by his eyes.

  I looked down at the glorious splashes of colors around me – the white and yellow of the daisies that raised their heads with such hope; the white and lavender of the tender forget-me-nots, with their reminder of what had once been; and beyond, where Jacobi stood, amongst the varied shades of pinks and reds and even yellows of the beautiful twining rose garden – and the promise of the future.

  Mama used to say the rose was tender, but could withstand the trials of nature, even so. Looking at Jacobi's expression, I thought he must have been thinking about those roses, remembering how we'd talked about them before on that long ride across the desert when I'd told him about my home.

  "Roses are forgiving of the elements," Mama had said. "And that's what makes them hardy so they can live on, and come back year after year."

  But I knew roses reminded Jacobi of another time, another life. They stood as a symbol of renewal, of strength an
d endurance. Even now, with summer being nearly gone, some of the branches bore new buds, as they made their final appearance before winter set in.

  My mouth felt suddenly dry. All the words I'd thought up to say to him had dried up, too. My palms tingled.

  Jacobi knelt on the ground and opened his arms to me. My heart jumped in my chest like I was comin' to life again. There was no need for me to try to say all the things I'd been thinking.

  He knew.

  I ran to him as fast as I could and his arms closed around me, hugging me like he'd never let me go. Like a father hugs a son. Like a man holds something that's a great treasure to him.

  I didn't need to ask him if he understood, or tell him I forgave him. The way he held me close to his heart told me he wanted me, just for myself, and not for any guilty feelings he might be trying to make up to me on account of Lisbeth, and what he'd had to do.

  I hadn't realized until that moment what it meant to know a father's love, and I wondered, as I stumbled into the safe stronghold of his body if he was thinking of his son. My father had frowned upon affection, considering it an 'unmanly display'. Surely, the family he came from must have guided that feeling inside him. I did not want to know my grandfather, nor any of the others that may remain. How could I ever give up the life I'd been born to for one I didn't know, or want to know? Maybe that was the one common thing I owned with my father – the distaste for the sea. I never wanted to go away from my life here, whatever that might be.

  For the first time since that bleak day so many weeks past, I felt the true notion that I might weather the storm that had taken everything. I didn't know my future, but now, I felt ready to face it. There had been no more talk of me being turned over to my northern family. Yet, I had to know what was truly in Jacobi's mind.

  He held me close to him, and the stiffness went out of me. I was not a man. I was a child, still, in spite of everything. Finally, I wept. Jacobi patted me with an awkward hand, as if to let me know I didn't have to remain strong. I'd not let my guard down since my family had been killed. Now, I was able to know safety again, and in the promise of Jacobi's embrace, I knew I would always have someone to depend on.