"I'll get around to it one of these days."
"She’s your daughter, Cade. Don't you feel any responsibility at all for her?"
“She is not my daughter!” Cade said, slamming his spoon down on the table for emphasis.
“No . . . I . . . don’t suppose she is,” Jeter replied in a voice that seemed even quieter, and more controlled, by contrast.
"She’s my responsibility, because I made a promise to Arabella,” Cade said. “But she isn't my daughter."
“Magnolia was there when you made that promise. She told me you promised Arabella that you would never abandon her. Is that true?”
Cade didn’t answer.
"Perhaps if you got to know her, you’d come to regard her as your own. I know I couldn’t love little Bella more if she was my own flesh and blood.” Jeter paused to gauge if Cade was hearing what he was saying. “I don’t think about who the real father is, even though I know what Magnolia had to endure to get her here. My situation is the same as yours, you know."
“No, your situation is not the same as mine,” Cade said through gritted teeth. “Your wife is alive, my wife is dead.”
“You are one selfish son of a bitch.” Jeter said, as he stood.
"Look, if Chantal is getting to be too much for Magnolia to handle, I'll be glad to hire a woman to look after her," Cade said sharply.
An expression of anger flashed across Jeter's face for a second, then the anger was replaced by hurt.
"That’s not it at all. You know damn well Magnolia loves that child like she was her own.” Jeter started to leave, then turned back. “We’ve been friends for a long time, and we've come through a lot together. Is it all to end here, like this?”
Cade just sat there looking down at his plate. Finally, he sighed, almost as if in surrender, lay his spoon down and looked up at Jeter, losing some of the bitterness in his eyes as he did so.
"You're right. You and Magnolia have been nothing but decent people to me and I’ve done nothing to earn such good heartedness. I tell you what. If Maggie can cook up one of those meals like she used to, I'll be there for supper tonight.”
Jeter smiled. "It’s a deal.”
6
That night, Cade McCall stood for a moment in front of Jeter’s house, its red shutters and red door reminding him of the Red House in Galveston. He remembered the hurricane that had taken it away, and how Arabella had stayed with him until the end, insisting that she be one of the last to get in the makeshift boat that had kept them safe during that long night.
How could he have been so lucky to have found her, and so unlucky to have lost her? And now he was about to enter this house and see the child whose birth had caused her death.
He couldn’t do it. Turning, he hurried down the path hoping to get to the first saloon he could find. And then he heard a familiar voice.
“Bonjour, Cade. Bienvenue chez nous. Welcome.”
Cade stopped. The French. He hadn’t heard the soft lilt in a long time, and tears began to well in his eyes.
“No, no, no,” he said under his breath, but then he felt Magnolia’s presence behind him. Turning around, he saw her, as tears streamed down her face. She opened her arms and pulled him to her in a healing embrace. They stood there for almost a full minute with neither saying a word. It was then that Cade realized this was the first time he had touched any woman since Arabella’s death.
He broke the contact and Magnolia took his hand as they walked up the path to the steps.
“Zheeter said you would be here for dinner this evening. You’ve been absent for too long.”
“I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me,” Cade replied.
“That’s not true, Cade. Had it not been for you, none of us—not me, not Bella, not Chantal—none of us would be alive. We would have died, too,” Magnolia said. Then a smile crossed her face as she opened the door. “Come in. You need to see these beautiful children.”
When Cade stepped into the house, he saw two little girls sitting on the carpet. Both had black eyes and black hair. One pulled herself up and began to walk while the other started crawling toward Magnolia. When they reached her, she bent over and picked both of them up.
“Which is which?” Cade asked.
“Few people can tell,” Magnolia said as she kissed each of the girls, “but the walker is Chantal. Even though she’s the youngest, she does everything first.”
“She’s going to be a spunky one, just like her mama,” Cade said.
Magnolia laughed. “Yes, there was nothing Arabella wouldn’t try. Would you like to hold her?”
Cade’s eyes opened wide as he stepped back.
“I don’t . . . I don’t . . . .”
“You don’t know what to do,” Jeter said as he moved toward them. “Well, it’s easy. You just love them.” He took Bella from Magnolia’s arms and began to blow on the child’s neck, causing her to laugh.
“Here,” Magnolia said handing Chantal to Cade. “I need to see how our dinner is coming along.”
Cade stood awkwardly holding Chantal, and smiling at him, the little girl rubbed her fingers on Cade’s lips.
But it wasn’t her fingers Cade felt. He felt a dizziness, and then, just on the other side of his memory, Arabella was there, so beautiful, and looking up at him with eyes that reflected not fear of dying, but her joy at seeing him.
She rubbed her fingers over his lips.
“Cade, promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“I will,” Cade said quietly, embracing the little girl and feeling for the first time a love for her that until this moment, had been suppressed. “I will,” he said again.
Jeter was on his hands and knees playing a game with Bella, first putting a cloth over his head and letting her pull it off. Watching them play, Cade was suddenly envious of Jeter. What a fool he had been, denying himself this connection to Arabella.
“Hello, Cade.” Chantal immediately held out her hands to the woman who was approaching, and, reluctantly now, she took her from him.
“These girls do love their grandmother,” Jeter said.
“It’s Grande-mere,” Mary Hatley said. “It’s so good to see you, Cade, even though you do look a little peaked.”
Cade laughed. “I’m afraid my life is a little different now than it was when we were in Texas.”
“Ha. There’s nothing wrong with an honest day’s work,” Mary said as she took Chantal into the kitchen.
“I take it Mary doesn’t approve of square games.”
“That’s not it,” Jeter said getting up. “She cares for you, and she doesn’t like to see what you’ve become.”
“A gambler? But yet she accepts you as a saloon keeper?”
Magnolia stepped out of the kitchen. “Are we ready to eat?”
“I’m starved,” Jeter said, happy to end the conversation.
“Uhmm, that was delicious,” Cade said after dinner as he pushed away what had been a most generous second helping of buffalo stew. “Maggie, if you weren’t already married, I’d marry you, just for your cooking.”
“It’s good to see you teasing,” Jeter said. “Is it possible that we’re going to see the old Cade again?”
Cade was silent for a long time before he spoke. “I have been a horse’s ass for a while, haven’t I?”
“No you haven’t,” Jeter said.
“Really? Can you actually say that?”
“Of course I can. A horse’s ass serves a purpose, that’s where his hind legs are attached,” Jeter said with a little laugh. “Cade, for the last year, you have been . . .” Jeter paused, looking for a word.
“Un total inadapté,” Magnolia interjected. “A total misfit.”
“A real bastard,” Jeter added, finding the word to complete his own sentence.
Cade pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t argue with either one of you,” he said. “If I had run across someone like me, two years ago, I would have shunned him like a polecat. I’m sorry, it’s j
ust that . . .”
“I know you miss her, Cade,” Magnolia said. “Arabella was my best friend, and I’m still grieving for her. But you have to get on with your life. This drinking . . . when I heard about Cap Jensen . . . that could so easily have been you.”
Cade shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it wasn’t.”
“This time,” Jeter said.
“I really should be getting back,” Cade said rising from the table. “Thanks for the meal, and I sincerely mean this. Thank you for everything you’re doing for Chantal. Arabella would be pleased.”
“Don’t stay away so long,” Magnolia said. “We miss you.” She kissed him on the cheek and then busied herself clearing the table.
Cade planned to go back to The Alhambra and catch a game, but as he passed the Red House he decided to step inside. When he did, there was a look of surprise on Pete Cahill’s face.
“Hey boys, look what tin pot gambler just rolled in,” Pete said.
Cade smiled as he extended his hand. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?”
“Oh . . . I guess I was out of line. It’s just that we ain’t seen you in here for a while. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here. What’ll you have?”
“Whiskey and a seat at a table,” Cade said. “No, I changed my mind. Make that a beer.”
Cade made his way back to a table. Jack Reynolds had just sat down and was beginning to deal. “There’s room for one more.”
Cade recognized the other three players as Johnny Langford, Matt Sullivan, and Isaac Morehouse.
“It’s good to have some fresh blood in here,” Sullivan said. “Maybe you’ll change our luck.”
“Oh?” Cade said as he took his seat.
“Reynolds seems to be doing all the winning.”
“Well, maybe I can take some of it from him,” Cade suggested.
Reynolds looked at Cade. “Maybe you will,” he said.
Cade was somewhat confused by the expression on Reynold’s face when he made the comment. It was neither challenging, nor acknowledgement of the possibility. The only word he could think of was devious. Was Reynolds cheating? Is that why he was winning so consistently?
The game was five card draw, and Cade drew three sixes on the first hand. Discarding two, he drew another six, and won the hand easily, raking in the fifty-dollar pot.
Two hands later he won with a full house, and the next hand with a flush.
“You changed the luck all right, Cade,” Langford said. “The only thing is, you changed it to you.”
“Yeah,” Morehouse said. “Reynolds, I take it all back, what I was a thinkin’.”
“What was that?” Reynolds asked.
“Well, I don’t ever want to accuse a man of cheatin’, ‘less I can see it right out. But I was wonderin’ how it was that you was winnin’ so much, only now it’s McCall that’s doin’ all the winnin’.”
“That’s the luck of the game,” Reynolds said.
When Reynolds dealt this hand, Cade saw it. Reynolds was good at it, as good as anyone Cade had ever seen, but he had put a palmed card on the deck just before he dealt Cade’s hand. Despite the palmed card, Cade had another winning hand.
At first he couldn’t understand what was going on. Reynolds was cheating, but he was cheating to Cade’s advantage.
Then Cade understood. Reynolds was parking all the money with Cade so that the others wouldn’t realize what was happening. Reynolds could start winning now, and take back all the money Cade had won without arousing anyone’s suspicion.
Cade was holding an ace high flush. This was a good hand, one that would entice him to stay in the game to the last bet.
“Twenty dollars,” Morehouse said.
Langford made the bet.
“I’m out,” Cade said, dropping his cards face down. He began to pick up the money that was in front of him.
“You can’t leave the game, you son of a bitch!” Reynolds said. “Not with all the money you’ve won.”
“Wait a minute, are you suggesting that we weren’t playing for keeps?” Cade asked. “If that’s the case, you should have told me before I sat down.”
“You ain’t leavin’ this table!” Reynolds pulled his pistol and pointed it at Cade.
“Hold on here, Reynolds, what do you think you’re doin’?” Langford asked.
“I’m goin’ to shoot this sonofabitch if he tries to quit this game,” Reynolds said, angrily.
Reynolds was so fixated on Cade, that he didn’t notice Sullivan get up from his seat, just to his right. Sullivan pulled his pistol, then brought it down sharply on the side of Reynolds head. Reynolds fell forward across the table.
“Well, I guess that shut him up,” Langford said.
“Oh, Jesus,” Morehouse said. “You killed him, Matt.”
“No I didn’t,” Sullivan answered. “I just hit him in the side of the head.”
“Look at his temple.”
There was a black hole in Reynold’s temple, from which dark red blood was slowly oozing.
Sullivan looked at his pistol. The hammer was blood red, and he saw, at once, what had happened. The spur of the hammer had penetrated Reynold’s temple.
“Damn,” he said. “I did kill him, but I sure as hell didn’t mean to.”
“It weren’t your fault,” Langford said. “You thought you was just a stoppin’ a killin’.”
The next morning, Cade was lying on the bed when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in, it’s open,” Cade called not getting up.
“Don’t you even bother to lock your door?” Jeter asked as he stepped in.
“Why should I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve been in town less than a week, and you’ve been at the scene of two killings.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that one last night.”
“You were at the table, and Jack Reynolds didn’t have an idea in hell who you were—that’s why he was setting you up. Pete told me how it happened.”
“Then you know it wasn’t my fault.”
“You might not like what I have to tell you, but I think you should lay low for a while. Get out of town before someone comes gunnin’ for you,” Jeter said.
Cade took a deep breath. “And I suppose you have a place for me to hide out.”
“I do, but it’s not what you think. Raymond Ritter’s the subcontractor for Wiley & Cutter, and they’re the ones who are doing the grading for the railroad. They’ve got a crew workin’ between Fort Dodge and here, and one of their guys just quit.”
“Are you saying you want me to work on the railroad?” Cade asked.
“Indirectly, yes. This grading crew only has a few more miles to do,” Jeter said. “If you did a little hard labor, it might help you get your head straight. Can I tell Ritter you’ll take the job?”
“How much will it pay?”
“Not as much as you made last night, but there won’t be anyone pointing a gun at you either.”
“How do you know how much I made?”
“Everybody knows. It was close to a thousand dollars.”
Cade laughed. “So everybody knows.”
7
The Slater brothers were camped for the night on Soldier Creek.
“You think there’s any Injuns around here?” Weasel asked.
“We ain’t in Injun territory,” Mack said.
“Neither was the Johanssons, but they was all kilt by Injuns.”
“Weasel’s right. The Johanssons was kilt ‘n they was home at their own farm.”
“That was more ‘n likely no more’n a couple o’ Injuns out just to make some trouble,” Mack said. “We ain’t as likely to be kilt by Injuns as we are to die from our own stink. I think we should take us a bath here while the creek’s up. When we get into town ‘n get the money, I aim to find me a whore. ‘N when I get me one, I don’t want to be stinkin’.”
“Good idea,” Weasel said.
“Luke, you got another pair o
’ trousers in your saddle bag?” Mack asked.
“Naw, just a shirt ‘n a pair o’ socks.”
“You need to wrench out them pants you’re a wearin’. You ain’t washed ‘em in a coon’s age and they’re damn near walkin’ by their ownselves.”
“I been thinkin’ I might want to do that,” Luke agreed. He turned the pockets inside out, and when he did a paper floated to the ground.
“What’s this?” he asked as he stooped to pick it up.
“How the hell are we supposed to know? It was in your pocket,” Weasel said.
Luke frowned as he looked at the paper. “I can’t figure this out. Here, you read it.”
“I know what it is,” Mack said. “Don’t you remember when we got into that fight with McCall . . . back in Caldwell?”
“Sure, I remember. Old Dusty cost us $300,” Luke said.
“McCall had raised your bet and put up a saloon he said he owned to cover it. This here’s that paper.”
“That’s when I shot the cards out of his hand,” Weasel said. “He had a full house and he would have for sure took the pot.”
“But I don’t know exactly how I come up with this paper, seein’ as how there warn’t really no bet placed, on account of it was like Weasel said.”
“You must’ve scooped it up with the money when it got scattered on the floor,” Weasel said.
“Well, it ain’t worth nothin’.” Luke grabbed for the paper.
“Hold on a minute, big brother.” Mack read the note.
Redeemable for $ 250.00
Red House Saloon as Collateral
Cade McCall
“This could be worth a whole lot.”
“How can it be worth anythin’ when the hand wasn’t even played?” Luke asked.
“That don’t matter none, you’ve got a signed sheet of paper that says it’s redeemable for two hunnert ‘n fifty dollars,” Mack pointed out.
“Yeah, now that you mentioned it, I do, don’t I?”
As Mack continued to study the paper, a broad smile spread across his face. “Boys, this ain’t for two hunnert and fifty dollars.”
The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set Page 45
