The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  Cade laughed. “I can’t say that’s something I do every day.”

  “I checked it before I left the ship. It’s at 28.8, ‘n fallin’. Why, droppin’ like it is, I wouldn’t doubt but that it’ll get below 28 before all is said ‘n done. ‘N it won’t take it long to get there, neither. I can feel it in my bones, Cade m’ boy, ‘n I ain’t never wrong. Oh, I’m wrong ‘bout some things, I’ll ‘fess up to that quick enough. But when it comes to the storms, I ain’t never wrong.”

  After he left The Anchor Saloon, Cade took a walk down to the beach where he saw a ribbon of clouds hanging out over the Gulf of Mexico. The clouds looked heavy with rain, but there was nothing threatening about them. The swells he had seen earlier had now become a heavy surf with high waves breaking on the beach, and sending the spindrift flying.

  The strange thing though, as far as Cade was concerned, was the wind. It was coming from the north, which would normally mean there would be little to no surf, and yet, here it was.

  What neither Cade nor most of the other residents of Galveston knew was that for the last three days, Western Union had been sending telegraphic messages to all its stations along the Gulf Coast saying a storm had passed through the Straits of Florida. They could not predict where the storm would be heading, but they wanted their offices to be prepared.

  The clouds, and the surf, were the leading edge, and the mayor had ordered that storm flags fly, but that signal went unheeded. Everyone was aware of the flags, but few residents understood the significance of them.

  Cade lingered on the beach watching the clouds and the surf, and wondering if Pops was right about an impending storm. At second glance, the clouds did appear to be more ominous, blacker, and with embedded lightning flashes.

  He had never been through a hurricane, though when he was a boy back in Tennessee he had experienced tornados. He had been through heavy storms at sea, and he had endured strong thunderstorms and hail while driving a herd of cattle from Texas to the shipping point in Kansas. But this would be his first experience with a hurricane, if indeed it turned out to be a one.

  Cade left the beach and walked along the Strand. For the most part all the activity that characterized this most interesting street was still carrying on as usual. The drummer who called himself the King of Pain was hawking his patent medicines from his wagon as the hurdy-gurdy man dispatched his trained monkey to beg for coins. No one seemed to be alarmed except as he passed Monsieur Alphonse’s restaurant, he noticed a man closing all the shutters.

  He wondered if something should be done to prepare The Red House. Arabella had been raised in New Orleans and she would be familiar with hurricanes, but when he had left the house, she did not seem concerned. He wished his partner, Jeter Willis, was here. He had grown up in Galveston and he would know what to do. But when the cattle drive season was over, Cade spent the time in town, while Jeter lived out at the MW, the small ranch in Jackson County that the two owned together.

  As he approached the house, he saw the delivery wagon from the Island Lumber Company standing at the end of the walkway.

  “You know who ordered this?” the driver asked.

  A man who was sitting in a rocking chair on the wide porch stood up.

  “No, sir, I don’t, but I expect the one coming this way knows.”

  “Is that so, mister,” the driver said. “Where do you want this here lumber?”

  By now Cade felt a quickening of the wind, and intuitively he felt it would not be good to have loose lumber laying around if the wind got any stronger.

  “I’m not sure I want it just yet,” Cade said. “Could you deliver it tomorrow?”

  “I expect I could,” the driver said, “but you’ll have to pay me to take it back.”

  Cade laughed. “How much?”

  “Maybe a quarter.”

  Cade withdrew a quarter from his pocket and gave it to the man.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Cade,” David Andrews said. “You’ll never see your lumber again.”

  “Well, I’m glad you saw the transaction if I have to prove what I did,” Cade said. “The lumber company would never dispute the word of an attorney.”

  “An old attorney,” Lee Bowman said. “He can’t even remember what day it is, so you better not depend on him.” He was studying a checkerboard as he sat across a table from another resident.

  “Then I’ll have you as my witness,” Cade said. “You know Mr. Bowman cheats, don’t you, Mr. Cline?” Cade came up the steps and looked over the game.

  “Of course I cheat,” Lee Bowman replied with a wave of his hand, though he didn’t look away from the checkerboard. “How else can I beat this conniving bastard?”

  Cade and David Andrews laughed, but Mr. Bowman and Mr. Cline did not react to the comment.

  “We goin’ to get some rain?” David asked as he looked toward the sky.

  “Sure looks like it,” Cade said.

  “Good, we could use a little.”

  “That’s true, but a friend of mine who just came in on the Success thinks we may be in for a blow.”

  “You mean a storm?”

  “Could be. He says I might be in for my first hurricane.” Cade said as he stepped inside.

  “A hurricane? Who says that?” Arabella asked, when she heard Cade’s comment.

  “An old friend I ran into at the Anchor.”

  “And who was that?”

  “Someone you introduced me to.”

  “You met someone who I introduced to you?”

  “I’ve told you about Pops--Josiah Burke. We were on the Fremad together.”

  “Oh, uh, yes,” Arabella replied, as she dropped her head.

  Cade recognized Arabella’s contrition. “I didn’t mean anything. It was good seeing an old friend again.” Cade lifted her chin. “And I told you, the past is the past.”

  “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” Arabella said.

  “It’s your pretty smile,” Cade replied, as he kissed her gently.

  “Magnolia is making veal cordon bleu for dinner,” Arabella said as she moved away from him. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  Cade chuckled. “Yes, I could force myself to eat it.”

  3

  At that moment, Cade happened to glance through the window, and when he did, he saw that the limbs of the live oak were waving and twisting rather dramatically. He went back out into the common room where he saw that the boarders who had been out on the porch, had come inside.

  “Getting worse?” Cade asked of no one in particular.

  “I’d say,” Gene Cline replied. “The wind’s kickin’ up a mite.”

  “How about a couple of you helping me get in the rocking chairs?”

  “You might close the shutters too,” Arabella suggested.

  Elmer Beck, a seaman who made The Red House his home when his ship was in port, joined Cade and David Andrews.

  Andy French, one of the younger residents, and Gene Cline went with Cade and began to close the Bahama shutters.

  When they stepped out onto the porch the wind was blowing so strong now that the chairs were rocking back and forth violently. Two had been blown into the railing causing spindles to break. The rain had started as well, and it seemed to blow sideways as it hit Cade’s face, stinging him like little needles. To Cade’s surprise, Q Street, which such a short time before had been dry, was now a flowing stream.

  “We should have done this earlier,” Beck shouted as he struggled to close a shutter. He had to shout, because of the roar of the wind.

  “It’s going to get worse, I’m afraid,” Andrews shouted back.

  When the shutters were secured, the men went back inside, taking the chairs with them. Arabella and Maggie were bringing food in from the kitchen.

  “I know it’s a little early,” Arabella said as she placed the food on the table. “But if this storm gets worse, we may not get a chance to eat later.”

  “It’s not too early for me,” Beck said.<
br />
  “Elmer, if someone woke you at three o’clock in the morning, it wouldn’t be too early for you,” Andrews teased.

  “This is a frightening storm,” Mrs. Emma Rittenhouse said as she came down the stairs. She was a 71 year old widow, who had lived at the Red House from the time it had been built.

  “It’s more than just a storm,” Beck said. “This is a hurricane.”

  “Ahh, it won’t ‘mount to much,” Bowman said. “I’m 82 years old, ‘n I’ve been through a lot of hurricanes. They don’t never do all that much damage here. I think it’s ‘cause we are an island, ‘n they most just pass over us ‘n do the worst on the mainland.”

  “I’ve been through a few myself, Mr. Bowman, although I’ve not been through one in Galveston,” Arabella replied. “It seems this one gained strength quite quickly.”

  “You went through them New Orleans hurricanes. I expect they’re different here. Don’t never do much damage.”

  Arabella smiled as she glanced out the one window that had been left uncovered. “I hope you’re right.”

  As the boarders, five men and two women, as well as Cade, Arabella, and Maggie ate their dinner, they engaged in a banter between them, forcing the conversation perhaps to overcome their nervousness.

  “Maggie, what’d you say this stuff is?” Beck asked.

  “Veal cordon bleu.”

  “Blue, huh?” Beck replied. “It don’t look blue, but I tell you what, it could be pure purple far as I’m concerned. This is real good.”

  All the while they were having their dinner, the sounds from outside were growing louder, and more alarming. In addition to the roar of the wind and the drumming of the rain, they heard a loud, crashing sound.

  “What was that?” Mrs. Rittenhouse asked.

  “It sounded like a tree falling,” Andrews said.

  “Or a building collapsing,” Cline added.

  “I don’t know,” Bowman said, nervously. “Maybe this storm is bigger than what I remember.”

  Joan Baker stood up. “I’m going down to the orphanage while I can still get there. Sister Anna Kathleen will more than likely need me to help with the children.”

  Although Joan wasn’t a nun, she was a very devout person, and she often did volunteer for the St. Cecilia orphanage.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Arabella asked. “Just look out there.”

  “I feel I should,” Joan said. “All the sisters are old and I know I can be of help.”

  “Well, if you’re going, you can’t go by yourself,” Cade said as he rose from the table. “Elmer, help me open the shutters so we can get out.”

  “Thanks, Cade.”

  With Joan holding on to his arm, Cade held Joan close to him as they walked down the street, fighting the wind and the rain. Water had already spilled out of Q Street and continued to rise so that by the time they reached the orphanage, it was ankle deep.

  Cade had to knock very loudly on the door before it was opened by Sister Anna Kathleen.

  “Oh, Joan, I knew you would be here!” she said. “Bless you. Bless you, my child! Come in. Let me get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death of cold. You, too, Mr. McCall.”

  “I’d better not,” Cade said. “I need to get back to the Red House and see how those folks are faring, but if you need anything, send Alvaro to get me.”

  “Poor Alvaro. Before he came here, he lived down on the coast,” Sister Anna Kathleen said shaking her head. “His mother, bless her soul, was killed in a storm like this, and now he’s in the chapel in prayer.”

  “It seems to me like that would be a good place to be,” Cade said. “I’ll come and see about you tomorrow.”

  “We’ll appreciate that,” Joan said.

  Cade made his way back to the boarding house, leaning into the wind. The water was much higher now than it had been when he started out, and by the time he got back, all five steps leading up to the porch were submerged. The wind was blowing so hard that he had to hang onto one of the support posts. Turning to look back, he saw a large object rolling down the street. It careened into a light post, and snapped it off, the wind immediately flinging the post into the air. The post was coming toward the porch and like a missile, it hit the shutter causing it to splinter into a hundred pieces. Just then the original object started to move, and Cade saw that it was the roof of a house, or at least part of a roof. More debris—wooden timbers, shingles, tin, bricks—all were flying through the air, slamming against the walls of houses and buildings, like shot fired from cannon. Down the street, Cade could see wreckage piling up between two houses creating a dam that caused the water to back up. It seemed to Cade as if the storm was increasing in strength and the water getting deeper with the passing of each minute.

  Cade saw an empty box wagon, floating down the street like a rapidly moving boat. Leaving the street it started toward the house but missed it. The wagon slammed up against a submerged limb from the live oak tree that stood between The Red House, and the building next door. The limb held the wagon in place wedging it against the tree. By now the Red House was surrounded by water.

  Cade forced the door opened, the wind catching it and jerking it out of his hands. The glass shattered. When he tried to close it, he found that he couldn’t push it against the wind. Beck and French, seeing that he was having trouble came over to assist him, and it took all three to get the shutters back in place and the door closed.

  “Did you make it to the orphanage?” Arabella asked as she hurried to Cade.

  “I did.”

  “I don’t know why Joan thought she had to go down there. She should have stayed right here where she would be dry,” Arabella said.

  “None of us is going to be dry for very long,” Beck said. “Look, water’s already coming in through the door and under it, too.”

  “Oh, it’s going to ruin my rug,” Arabella said dropping to her knees to pull back the carpet.

  “I’m afraid it’s going to do a lot more than ruin the carpet,” Cade said. “There’s a dam down the street and it’s causing the water to back up fast. We need to all move upstairs, if we’re going to ride this thing out.”

  Almost as soon as Cade said the words, there was a terrible, cracking sound as the wind ripped off the roof and the back wall began to buckle. Water was gushing in.

  “We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!” Maggie screamed.

  “No we’re not,” Arabella yelled as she took Maggie by the shoulders and began to shake her. “Cade’s here. He’ll take care of us.”

  “If you have any ideas, now’s the time to tell us,” Andy French said, his voice high-pitched with fright. “There ain’t no upstairs to get to.”

  The entire house began to shake.

  “Oh! Jesus! What’s happening?” Maggie cried out.

  The shaking lasted but a few seconds, then the house was pushed from its foundation, not by wind, but by a tidal surge. The abrupt movement of the house caused everyone but Cade and Beck to fall into the water. Quickly they got the others back on their feet.

  “This entire house is about to be swept away,” Cade said, raising his voice against the roar of wind and water. “We have to get out of here!”

  “How are we going to do that?” Andrews asked. “Look.” Andrews pointed to the front door which was now at the top of a steep incline, the result of the house having shifted. “Even if we could get up to the door, it would be a long drop.”

  “We can’t go out the back either,” Cline said. “What’s left of the roof and back wall has us blocked in.”

  “Cade, the window! Can we climb out of it?” Arabella pointed to the un-shuttered window on the side of the house.

  Clambering up the incline Cade looked out the window. The wagon he had seen earlier was still jammed up against the tree.

  “Arabella’s right,” Cade called. “There’s a wagon bed stuck in a tree. If we can get to it we’ve got a chance.”

  “I don’t think we can do that, espe
cially the older folks and the women,” Andy French said when he got to where Cade was standing.

  “Maybe we can’t make it,” Mrs. Rittenhouse said. “But I’m too old to be entombed in a pile of rubble when this house comes crashing down.” The old woman began crawling up the incline.

  “Cade, have you got a line?” Beck asked. “I can go first and secure the line so the others will have a hand hold when they try to get to the wagon.”

  “Good idea, I’ve got some rope in my room,” Cade replied. “That is if my room is still there.”

  Cade’s room was on the first floor at the back of the house. When he got to it, he saw that the back wall had collapsed inward making it very difficult to enter. Getting down on his hands and knees, he managed to pass under the collapsed wreckage until he reached the wall where he had kept two coils of rope hanging from hooks. The problem was that in this part of the room the back wall was so low that he couldn’t even crawl under it.

  He was about to give up when he got an idea. The water on the floor of his room was at least two feet high, but turning over onto his back, he went under water, and pushed himself beneath the wreckage. He knew that he was taking a great risk, because any additional shift in the house could keep him trapped here.

  He opened his eyes, and though he couldn’t see the ropes, he could see the leg of the chest which was held down by the wall and the roof. He knew that the ropes were hanging on hooks just to the right of the chest, and he reached up for them.

  The first thing he discovered was that he would only be able to reach one of them. The second thing he discovered was that no matter how he tried to jiggle the rope, it was wedged in by the same wall that was holding the chest, and he couldn’t flip it off the hook. His only hope of getting the rope free would be to pull it hard enough to jerk the retaining hook out of the wall. And, because he could only get one hand on the rope, that would make it even harder. He gave a quick prayer of thanks that it was his right, and not his left hand that could reach it, then he started pulling.

  At first there was no movement at all, then he thought he felt something. Had he? Or was this merely wishful thinking? No, there was definite movement, if he could just stay here long enough.