Nathanial

by J. B. Richard

  “Sorry, boy.” Nate patted Buck’s neck.

  “Are you okay?” Fletcher had his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting. Why was he concerned? He hadn’t turned his back and gone as Nate suspected he would. Nate had meant to be mean to him. He’d left him.

  He put up a hand, signaling that he was fine.

  “I’ll see you at the ranch,” Fletcher hollered up. He didn’t even sound mad. Nate couldn’t believe it.

  Fletcher turned the bay, and Nate could tell by the way the horse was moving that Fletcher had given him his head. Nate had been outsmarted. Fletcher knew enough about horses that he was aware that the bay would lead him back to the barn.

  Nate nudged Buck. He and Fletcher would probably get to the ranch about the same time. The trail Nate had to take was a mile or two longer, but Fletcher likely would be moving at a slower pace since he wasn’t all that familiar with the area. Maybe then, if Jesse was home, he’d think they had just gone for a nice ride.

  No way would Jesse believe that, and Nate wouldn’t dare lie to him. He was in big trouble.

  It was after lunch when Nate rode into the yard. He didn’t see the bay. Was Fletcher there? The appaloosa was in the corral, along with the marshal’s horse. Doc’s buggy was still there and the Fletchers’ carriage. Was Pa’s horse in the barn? Had Fletcher told Jesse what Nate pulled? If so, he was done for.

  “Nathanial!”

  Nate jerked on the reins, spinning Buck.

  Fletcher loped the bay out from among the trees toward him. Under his full black mustache, the man was actually grinning. “I’m glad to see you made it back in one piece.”

  Nate raised a brow. “Why aren’t you mad? You know I tried to get you lost.”

  “Mrs. Fletcher and I had a son. He liked to play tricks. Harmless things like jumping out from behind a chair to scare you. Nothing as serious as what you did today. You could have been hurt. I can’t condone that.”

  “Condone? Why don’t you use words that I can understand?” Nate smarted off, but he was rolling around in his head what Fletcher had said—that they’d had a son.

  “Let’s just forget it,” Fletcher said dryly.

  “What happened to your son?” Nate might have been nosy, but Fletcher had brought it up.

  Was he to be the replacement? He suddenly felt sick in his stomach. Was that the reason they’d come hunting him? It wasn’t that they cared about him. They were thinking of themselves.

  Fletcher was quiet for a long minute. “Ashton drowned. He fell into the Hudson River. I jumped in, but the current was swift and when I got to him, it was too late.”

  Nate understood loss and felt bad for the Fletchers. “I’m sorry,” he said and meant it.

  “It’s okay. I’ve done my grieving. But Deloris has never been able to fully let go of her sadness, has had a broken heart ever since. And it’s been nearly two years.”

  In silence, they rode into the yard side by side. Nate didn’t see Jesse anywhere but expected to catch the devil once he did. Nate helped Fletcher store the tack. Then he rubbed down the horses before leading them to the corral. It wasn’t until he turned toward the house that he caught sight of Jesse leaning against a porch post, watching him. Jesse’s mouth was set in a thin line, and his arms were folded tightly across his chest. Nate gulped.

  Mrs. Fletcher stood from the porch swing with a drink in her hand. “Did you have a nice ride?”

  “It was eye-opening,” Fletcher coolly remarked as he and Nate walked toward the house.

  Jesse’s face was growing redder. He was stewing and obviously had been for a while. If Fletcher was worried about anything Jesse might say, it wasn’t showing. Nate was wishing for a hole to curl up in. His ears were about to get the worst tongue-lashing ever.

  They had just reached the gate when Jesse stomped down the steps, pointing his finger at Nate. “Boy, I told ya to stay put, and you run off.”

  “He was with me,” Fletcher interjected. “I am his uncle, whether you want to recognize that fact or not. The child is fine. I did him no harm, nor would I.”

  “Shut up!” Jesse snapped.

  Fletcher took a step back. His missus froze midstep across the porch.

  Nate cringed. Jesse was really pissed, madder than Nate had ever seen him.

  “I’m guessin’ by the lather on that horse when you rode in that you climbed the cliff at Jumping Fish Canyon.” Jesse wasn’t asking.

  Nate stayed quiet. His gaze fell on his boot toes.

  “Did you not hear me when I told ya no?”

  Nate was sure everyone within the territory could, at the moment, hear Jesse.

  He grabbed Nate by the arm. “Answer me, boy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Nate sniffled.

  Never would he have guessed Jesse would get so riled up about this. Yeah, Nate had taken a stupid risk. He had learned his lesson when he thought of Buck possibly getting hurt or worse. He wouldn’t ever do that again. Everyone knew how much he loved Buck.

  “You could have been killed.” Jesse was seething.

  “But he wasn’t.” Fletcher dared to timidly speak.

  “Stay out of this.” Jesse damn near snarled at him. Fletcher’s face paled. Jesse’s focus turned back to Nate. “I reckon you know what’s coming to ya. Go on to the barn.”

  Nate burst out crying.

  “What are you planning to do to him?” Fletcher stepped forward and pushed Nate behind him, placing himself smack dab in front of Jesse, which wasn’t a good place to be because Jesse was boiling.

  “I don’t see that it’s any of your business. But I’m gonna cut a switch off that bush and whip his bottom with it.” Jesse shouldered past Fletcher as he pulled his knife and grabbed a long, wispy branch.

  Fletcher turned on his heel. “I will not allow you to beat on him with a stick.”

  Jesse shoved his knife into its sheath on his belt. The branch was in his hand. Nate was rooted in place, not knowing what was going to happen between those two. Why would Fletcher stick up for him? On top of that, Jesse had only ever given Nate a hard, quick swat on the bottom now and then when he needed straightening out. He had never actually given him a real licking.

  “Mister, I ain’t gonna beat on him. But he will learn a lesson so the next time I tell him to stay on this ranch, he’ll listen.” Jesse took hold of Nate’s arm, marching toward the barn.

  Fletcher was on Jesse’s heels, which was only severing to irritate Jesse more because the hand holding the switch balled into a fist, and his grip had tightened to the point that he was sort of pinching Nate’s arm.

  “Let go of him.” Fletcher caught hold of Jesse’s shoulder and spun him. “I won’t let you hit him.”

  Jesse looked as if he was going to punch Fletcher. What stopped him, God only knew. “The way I see it, the boy is getting off easy. Had it been his pa who caught him, his ass would be feelin’ the sting of a leather belt instead of a hickory switch.”

  “This is barbaric. I’m sure there is another way to punish the child. We never spanked our son, not once.” Fletcher was now red-faced.

  His wife hurried across the yard in a full-out twitter. Her arms were waving, and there were tears in her eyes. She was chirping funny, “Oh my,” noises.

  “Ain’t no punishment better that I can think of. He’ll think twice next time.” Jesse shook the branch in his hand and seemed to overlook the fact that Fletcher had just admitted to once having a child. “Now I’m done talkin’ about this. So one of two things needs to happen. You either get off my back so I can tend to this ugly business, or you step up here and try and stop me. Then I’m gonna flatten ya into the ground, and after that, Nate will get his ass whooped.”

  “I can’t match your brute strength,” Fletcher hissed. “But I can and will stop this from ever happening again.” There was a confidence in his tone that spoke of always getting his way. It scared Nate.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jesse’s eyes narrowed.

  “Judge Parker is due
in on the stage tomorrow. I’m going to revoke my agreement to suspend the trial. The sooner we take Nathanial out of this setting, the better.”

  “Judge Parker?” Jesse said out loud to no one.

  Nate was also stunned. Move up the trial? This day had gone all wrong. Nate had hoped to push the Fletchers away. Instead, it all worked out that he had indeed pulled them closer. This was awful. Damn bad luck.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t protest if Prescott was the presiding judge?” Fletcher grinned.

  Jesse boldly stepped up close, towering over Fletcher by a head and a half. His jaw was tight, and his nostrils flared. Jesse wasn’t a man to take being pushed in any way.

  “Git off this ranch and don’t come back.”

  Both the Fletchers turned with their noses high and marched off toward their carriage. Lem Fletcher cracked leather to the buggy horse, and they were gone. Dust hung in the air where the wheels had spun through the dirt.

  Nate threw himself around Jesse’s waist. He didn’t have to say it. Jesse knew Nate was afraid of being ripped away.

  Jesse peeled him off. “I am upset with you.”

  Nate reckoned he wasn’t getting out of trouble. Jesse led him into the barn where Nate was bent over Jesse’s knee. After three, four smart licks, with Nate bawling his head off, Jesse stood him on his feet. Nate ran off and climbed the ladder into the loft. Jesse left the barn, slamming the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 24

  Jesse marched toward the corral where his horse was drinking from the water trough. He opened the gate, then lifted his bridle off a fence post where he’d hung it earlier.

  He patted the appaloosa’s nose. “It’s about time I give ya a name.” The gelding nudged his shoulder as though agreeing.

  “How about Freckles?” He rubbed his hand along the horse’s shoulder. It was a silly, fun name that made him smile, and he needed that.

  Partner had gotten himself in trouble, and as much as Jesse had hated to do it, the boy needed to be taught a lesson, so he didn’t feel bad about that. What had him sort of off balance was that Fletcher had mentioned a son. Nathanial had told Jesse every detail about his encounters with the couple while in Birch Creek. No kid was mentioned or sighted there in Gray Rock. It could be he was back east with a nanny. When the Fletchers had left New York, they wouldn’t have had any idea how long it would take them to find the person they were searching for.

  According to the information the sheriff had collected from his different run-ins with the couple in Birch Creek, they had been slowly working their way west, following tidbits of information about Nate’s past fed to them by a person in one town or another. That amount of time added up fast from weeks to months and months. Why not bring their child instead of leaving him behind for the better part of a year or more? He had an idea about that, and there were two people he needed to speak to.

  He crossed the bridge into Gray Rock. The busyness of people walking along the boardwalk, in and out of shops, and wagons and horses being steered through the street normally brought about a sense of community and well-being. Today, it all seemed like a headache, one he didn’t want to deal with on top of everything else. He would because it was his job, but he hoped there was no pressing trouble in town that would distract from the real reason he was there.

  He pushed down his hat, and with any luck, no one would make eye contact. Every time he had come to town, it seemed like a thousand people would ask how Sheriff Crosson was doing. Jesse understood the concern, but after so many times, he was tired of repeating that the sheriff was no better off, barely hanging on.

  Prescott and Mr. Graham, the Crossons’ attorney, stepped out of Graham’s office. As luck would have it, those were the two he’d wanted to talk with, and they were together. All the better. This might go faster. Jesse pulled up reins in front of them.

  “I talked to Doc earlier, but how’s Kate holding up?” Prescott reached across the rail and rubbed Freckles’ jaw.

  “She’s tired, don’t sleep hardly at all, and is snappish with everyone. I can’t say that any of us are doing all that well.” He was honest.

  “If there is anything more I can do …” Prescott offered. He was working with Mr. Graham, preparing a defense, and he held the midnight post, relieving either Huckabee or Big John at the jailhouse, giving one or the other a breather from guarding the prisoners. Jesse couldn’t ask any more of him.

  “Do either of you know anything about the Fletchers having a son?”

  Graham looked over at Prescott. Obviously, that was news to him.

  Prescott touched at his mustache. “I was in the city when the accident happened. It hit the front pages of every paper. Later, I’d heard rumors that his wife had fallen into a deep depression. That she’d tried to take her own life.”

  “Then she comes huntin’ for a long-lost nephew,” Jesse said without humor.

  “It appears that would be some of the reason. Don’t forget she also lost a sister. Those are two big losses,” Prescott said.

  “Did any of those papers run a picture of the boy?” Graham faced the judge.

  Prescott thought for a minute, then slowly began to nod until his head bobbed with vigor. “His hair was white, and he had big blue eyes. I’m sure of it.”

  “Partner,” Jesse said aloud but was talking to himself. It was a dead-ringer description of Nathanial.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen.” The man dressed in the coat with tails was oddly short. His arms had the same stubby stature, but his hands were huge. He thrust one toward Prescott, who accepted and firmly shook.

  “Might I have a word with you, Judge? And if this is Mr. Graham, counsel for the Crossons, he should be present too.”

  Jesse began to step down.

  “Your services will not be required, Deputy.” Whoever that was, he turned his back, heading for the door. Was that his way of telling Jesse he wasn’t welcome to join the meeting?

  He stepped onto the boardwalk. “Wait just a minute. Who the hell do you think you are?” No one would exclude him, and why would they? The Crossons were Jesse’s family. Everyone knew it. So if the conversation about to take place was about them, he had every right to be there.

  “I’m Judge Parker,” the man said with a smirk on his face. “I know exactly who you are, Deputy Adams, and as far as I’m concerned, you have no business in this meeting. Let’s be honest. You may live with the Crossons, but you’re not kin. Therefore, I have nothing to discuss with you, only those family members directly involved.” He snapped around and disappeared inside with Graham following.

  Jesse’s fists balled at his sides. God, he wanted to punch that man’s head off. Not family, not directly involved? The wee man was wrong. He didn’t know much about Jesse, other than he wore a badge. He spit in the dirt.

  Prescott put up a hand. “Wait here.” The door clicked shut behind him.

  Jesse paced the boardwalk, feeling like a caged animal. What was being said in there? It wasn’t like Graham and Prescott wouldn’t tell him. He was anxious to know, to have this trial business over. And what they’d found out about the Fletchers possibly looking at Nate as a replacement child certainly had to help their case.

  Jesse had to do something other than rack his brain. He was starting to get a goldarn headache. Across the street, Orris was killing the tune he was attempting to play, as always. It was nice that some things never changed. Although, not so pleasant on the ears.

  Jesse crossed the street. Inside were but a few cowboys playing cards and drinking beer. They gave him a friendly nod as he walked toward the bar.

  “Pete, give me a beer.”

  He filled a mug, then placed it in front of Jesse, clearing his throat.

  Jesse dug a coin out of his pocket and dropped it on the bar top.

  Pete picked up the money. “Shorty was in here earlier. I’m sorry to hear the wedding’s off.”

  Jesse choked on his swallow, slamming down his beer, sloshing liquid out of the top and all over h
is hand and the counter. “What did you say?”

  Pete took a step back. He was a barrel-chested, surly man who wasn’t prone to be afraid of anyone. “I’m just repeatin’ what I was told. If you got a problem with that, go talk to Shorty.”

  Jesse would do just that. He swallowed what remained of his beer, then marched outside. He was swinging a leg over his saddle when the door to the law office whisked open. Parker came out first and passed by Jesse without a glance. The drawn faces of the other two men were glum. Whatever Parker said, it hadn’t been good news

  Prescott handed three or four folded pieces of paper to Jesse. Lem Fletcher had really done it. Not that Jesse had doubted him, but he’d almost forgotten the threat. Two days. It was all they had. The trial would start on Thursday. So soon. Jesse shoved the documents at Prescott.

  “The only reason we’re getting a couple days’ notice is that Parker likes an audience. He’s giving folks time to come into town. The bigger the crowd, the more of a show he’ll put on.” Prescott shook his head. “I’ve never liked him.”

  Jesse grinned.

  “There’s something else,” Graham said. “I will talk to Mrs. Crosson directly, but I’ll tell you now.” He lingered a moment. “Parker said he will throw out any testimony about the length of time it took the Fletchers to find Nathanial. He doesn’t believe that’s relevant. He seemed more concerned about whether or not the Fletchers could prove kinship through blood ties. His belief is that eventually, the courts will and should consider that first and foremost in matters such as these.”

  “And I wouldn’t put it past that pompous ass to set the precedence just to elevate himself.” Prescott glared toward the hotel entrance where Parker had gone inside.

  Jesse turned his horse. There was nothing he could say. Life seemed to be crashing down around his family. For them, he would never tire, never give up. Each day, as he had been doing, he would give his very best to support those he cared about by doing whatever he could and then some. There was something else he had to deal with too.