They found a room whose roof was more or less intact, and whose fireplace even worked once Augustus poked loose an owl’s nest. He broke up the remains of an old wagon to make a fire.
“This weather’ll slow Call up,” Augustus said. “I expect they all think we’re dead by now.”
Lorena still had not spoken. She found her silence hard to give up—it seemed her best weapon against the things that could happen. Talk didn’t help when things were worst—no one was listening. If the Kiowas had got to do what they would have liked to do, she could have screamed her voice out and no one would have heard.
Gus was perfectly patient with her silence. He didn’t seem to mind it. He just went on talking as if they were having a conversation, talking of this and that. He didn’t talk about what had happened to her but treated her as he always had in Lonesome Dove.
Though she didn’t talk, she couldn’t stand to have Gus out of her sight. At night she rolled in his blanket with him—it was only then that she felt warm. But if he stood up to do some errand she watched him, and if the errand took him outside she got up and went out too.
The second day the rains still poured. Gus poked around the fort to see if he could find anything useful and came across a large box of buttons.
“There was a woman here during that fight, I recollect,” he said. “I guess she took off so fast she left her button box.”
There were all sizes of buttons—it gave Augustus an idea. He had a pack of cards in his saddlebags, which he quickly produced. “Let’s play a few hands,” he said. “The buttons can be our money.” He spread a blanket near the fireplace and sorted the buttons into piles according to size. There were some large horn buttons that must have been meant for coats.
“Them’ll be our fifty-dollar gold pieces,” he said. “These here will be tens and these little ones can be fives. This is a high-stakes game we’re playing.”
“Don’t you cheat, Gus,” Lorena said suddenly. “If you cheat I won’t give you no pokes.”
Augustus was so pleased to hear her talk that tears came into his eyes. “We’re just playing for buttons, honey,” he said.
For the first hand or two Lorena made mistakes—she had forgotten what the cards meant. But it quickly came back to her and she played avidly, even laughing once when she won a hand. But the playing soon tired her—it seemed anything tired her if she did it long. And she still trembled at the least thing.
When Gus saw that she was tiring he made a pallet for her by the fireplace and sat by her while she napped. Her bruises were healing. She was much thinner than she had been when Blue Duck took her away—her cheeks had hollowed. Outside, the rain pelted the long prairies. The roof had a leak in one corner and a little stream of water dripped down one wall.
They stayed in the Walls for two days, comfortably out of the wet. That first evening, by good luck, Augustus happened to see a deer grazing just outside the wagon yard. That night they had venison and Lorena ate with real appetite for the first time.
“Eat like that, and you’ll soon be the most beautiful woman in Texas again,” Augustus said.
Lorena said nothing. That night she woke up crying and shaking. Augustus held her and crooned to her as if she were a child. But she didn’t go back to sleep. She lay on the pallet, her eyes wide open. An hour or two before dawn the rain stopped, and soon a bright sun shone above the wet prairie.
“I wish we could stay here,” Lorena said, when she saw Gus making preparations to leave.
“We might not last long if we did,” Augustus said. “Every mangy renegade that’s left loose knows about this place. If a bunch of them showed up at once we’d be in trouble.”
Lorena understood that, but she didn’t want to go. Lying on the pallet and playing cards for buttons was fine, so long as it was just Gus who was there. She didn’t want to see other men, for any reason at all. She didn’t want them to see her. There was a strong feeling within her that she should stay hidden. She wanted Gus to hide her.
“I don’t want them,” she said, looking at Gus.
“You won’t have to have ’em,” Augustus said. “I’ll see you’re let be. But we can’t stay here. Game’s skimpy and there’s no telling who’ll come along.”
Lorena began to cry when she got on her horse. She could no longer control her tears. They were apt to come at any time, though, like talk, they did no good. Things happened, no matter how hard you cried.
“Now, Lorie, don’t you fret no more than you have to,” Augustus said. “We’ll get over to where the cowboys are and then we’ll be fine. You’ll get to San Francisco yet.”
Lorena had almost forgotten what San Francisco was. Then she remembered: a place with boats, where it was cool. It was where Jake had promised to take her. Jake had gone out of her mind so completely, while she was confused, that it was strange to think of him. It was like thinking of someone who had died.
“Where is Jake?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Augustus said. “He wanted to come with me but I didn’t want to put up with the scamp.”
They rode until the afternoon, keeping close to the Canadian, which was high from the rains. Toward evening they topped a ridge and saw a surprising sight: four great herds of cattle, spread as far as one could see across the plain.
“River’s stopped ’em,” Augustus said. “They’re all waiting for it to go down.”
The cowboys were still a mile or more away, but Lorena began to shake at the sight of them. They were just more men.
“They won’t hurt you, honey,” Augustus said. “Likely they’ll be more scared of you than you are of them. Most of them’s probably forgot what a woman looks like.”
Lorena fell back into her silence. She had nowhere else to go.
As they approached the nearest herd, a man galloped out to meet them.
“My lord, it’s the man from Yale College, the one who read that Latin on my sign,” Augustus said. “I recognize the horse. It’s that nice bay we stole back from old Pedro just before he died.”
Lorena didn’t look at the man.
Wilbarger was as surprised as Augustus. He had seen two riders and supposed they were scouts for yet another herd. “By God, McCrae, you’re a surprise,” he said. “I thought you were three weeks behind me, and here you are attacking from the west. How far back is your herd, or do you have one?”
“As you can see, I ain’t brought a cow,” Augustus said. “Call may still have a herd of them if he ain’t lost them or just turned them loose.”
“If he would do that he’s a fool, and he didn’t act like a fool,” Wilbarger said. “He wouldn’t trade me that mare.”
He tipped his hat to Lorena. “I don’t believe I’ve met the young lady,” he said.
“This is Miss Lorena Wood,” Augustus said. “She had the misfortune to be abducted. Now I’ve abducted her back. We’re short of grub and would like to purchase some if you have any to spare.”
Wilbarger glanced once more at Lorena, who sat with her head down.
“I am not such a scoundrel as to sell grub,” he said. “You’re welcome to come to camp and eat with my tough bunch, if you can stand them.”
“I doubt we could,” Augustus said quietly. “We’re both shy.”
“Oh, I see,” Wilbarger said, glancing at Lorena again. “I’m damn glad you don’t have a herd. You’d think there’d be room enough for everybody on these plains, but as you can see, the view is crowding up. I was going to try a crossing today but I’ve decided to wait for morning.”
He was silent a moment, considering the problem of their shyness.
“We’re about to eat,” he said. “It’s a free country, so my advice to you would be to make camp where you choose. I’ll borrow a pot from our cook and bring you some grub once you get settled.”
“I’m much obliged,” Augustus said. “Noticed a tree in these parts?”
“No, sir,” Wilbarger said. “If there was a tree in these parts I’d be sitting under it.
”
They made camp on the plain. Wilbarger was as good as his word. In an hour he returned with a small pack mule. Besides an ample pot of beefsteak and beans he brought a small tent.
“I scarcely use this tent,” Wilbarger said, dropping it by their campfire. “You’re welcome to borrow it. The young lady might like a little privacy.”
“I guess it’s your training in Latin that’s give you such good manners,” Augustus remarked. “The sky’s unpredictable and we would enjoy a tent.”
“I also brought a bottle,” Wilbarger said. “I seem to remember you’re a drinking man.”
As soon as the tent was up, Lorena went in. Gus spread her a pallet and she sat where she could watch him through the open flap. The men sat outside and drank.
“Had an easy trip?” Augustus asked.
“No, sir,” Wilbarger said. “My foreman died, south of Fort Worth. I have another herd somewhere ahead of me, but I can’t leave to go check on it. I don’t know that I’ll ever see it again, although I may.”
“What’d he die off?” Augustus asked. “It’s a healthy climate down that way.”
“He died of a horse falling over backwards on him,” Wilbarger said. “He would test the broncs.”
“Foolish,” Augustus said. “A grown man ought to have sense enough to seek gentle horses.”
“Many don’t,” Wilbarger pointed out. “That mare Captain Call wouldn’t trade me didn’t look that gentle, yet he’s a grown man.”
“Grown, but not what you’d call normal,” Augustus said. “I put it down to lack of education. If he’d been trained in Latin he’d most likely have let you have that horse.”
“Do you consider yourself normal, then?” Wilbarger asked.
“Certainly,” Augustus said. “I never met a soul in this world as normal as me.”
“And yet here you sit, far out on the naked plain, with a shy woman you had to rescue,” Wilbarger pointed out. “How many skunks did you have to kill in order to rescue her?”
“A passel,” Augustus said. “I got the peons but the jefe got away. A bandit named Blue Duck, whom I’d advise you to give a wide berth unless you’re skilled in battle.”
“You think he’s around? I’ve heard of the scamp.”
“No, I think he’s headed for the Purgatory River,” Augustus said. “But then, I underestimated him once, which is why the lady got abducted. I’m out of practice when it comes to figuring out bandits.”
“She’s a little peaked, that girl,” Wilbarger said. “You ought to take her back to Fort Worth. There’s not much in the way of accommodations or medical care north of here.”
“We’ll ease along,” Augustus said. “Where shall I return this tent?”
“I have business in Denver, later in the year,” Wilbarger said. “That’s if I live, of course. Send it over to Denver, if you have a chance. I don’t use the dern thing much, but I might next winter, if I’m still out where it’s windy.”
“I’m enjoying this whiskey,” Augustus said. “A man is foolish to give up the stable pleasure of life just to follow a bunch of shitting cattle.”
“You have a point, and it’s a point I’ve often taxed myself with,” Wilbarger said. “If you’re such a normal boy then how come you done it?”
“Unfinished business in Ogallala, Nebraska,” Augustus said. “I’d hate to grow old without finishing it.”
“I see,” Wilbarger said. “Another shy lady who must have got abducted.”
They drank until the bottle was empty.
“If you had two, I wish you’d brought two,” Augustus said. “I need to get back in practice drinking.”
“Well, if we don’t get across that goddamn river tomorrow, I’ll see if I can rustle up another one,” Wilbarger said, standing up. “I seldom get conversation like yours. I can’t figure out if I like it or not, but I will admit it’s conversation, which is more than can be had in my camp.”
He mounted his horse and was about to ride away.
“I’ll send the cook over with some breakfast,” he said. “By the way, you didn’t cross the path of a young sheriff from Arkansas, did you? He’s up this way somewhere, and I’ve been worried about him.”
“You must be referring to July Johnson,” Augustus said. “We left him four days ago. He was headed on north.”
“Well, he had a funny crew with him. I was just a little uneasy,” Wilbarger said. “I found him a likable man, but inexperienced.”
“He’s got more experience now,” Augustus said. “Blue Duck killed his crew.”
“Killed all three of them?” Wilbarger asked, startled. “I even offered that young boy a job.”
“He should have took it,” Augustus said. “We buried them west of here.”
“That Duck must be a hard son of a bitch,” Wilbarger said.
He sat on his horse a moment, looking into the night. “I had a feeling young Johnson was inexperienced,” he said, and trotted off.
The next morning Wilbarger’s old cook came over with some breakfast. It was a fine morning, the sun up and the plains well dried out. Augustus stepped out of the tent, but Lorena was content to look through the flap.
“This is like living in a hotel, Lorie,” Augustus said. “We got people toting us meals as fast as we can eat them.”
At that point the cook got careless and the little pack mule took a kick at him which barely missed.
“He’s getting tired of making this trip,” the cook said.
“Or it could just be the company he’s tired of,” Augustus suggested. “I’d buy him if he was for sale. I’ve always got along with mules.”
“This mule ain’t for sale,” the cook said, looking the camp over. “I wisht all I had to do was live in a tent.”
Without further ado, he turned and went back.
When he was gone, Lorena came out and sat in the bright sun. While they ate, Wilbarger’s cowboys began to move the herd toward the river.
“That Wilbarger is a curious man,” Augustus said. “He’s blunt-spoken, but I guess he’ll do.”
Before noon all the herds had crossed and the wagon and remuda of the last one was just moving out of sight to the north.
“We might as well cross while the crossing’s good,” Augustus said. “It could come another rain.”
He folded the tent, which was awkward to carry on a horse. His horse didn’t like it and tried to pitch, but Augustus finally got him settled down. The river had gone down some, and they crossed without difficulty and made camp on a long ridge about two miles to the north of it.
“Now then, we ought to be set,” Augustus said, once he had the tent secured. “I imagine the boys will be along in a week or so.”
Lorena didn’t care if they never came along, but she was glad they had the tent. It was scarcely up before rain clouds boiled again out of the northwest.
“Let her rain, we’re ready,” Augustus said, taking the box of buttons from his saddlebag. “I guess it won’t stop us from playing cards.”
Wilbarger had thoughtfully let them have some coffee and a side of bacon, and with those provisions and the tent and the buttons, they passed a week. A little of the hollowness left Lorena’s cheeks, and her bruises healed. She still slept close to Augustus at night and her eyes still followed him when he went out to move the horses or do some errand. Once or twice on pretty evenings they rode over to the river. Augustus had rigged a fishing line out of some coarse thread they had found in Adobe Walls. He bent a needle for a hook and used tadpoles for bait. But he caught no fish. Whenever he went to the river, he stripped off and bathed.
“Come in, Lorie,” he said several times. “A bath won’t hurt you.”
Finally she did. She had not washed in a long time, and it felt good. Gus was sitting on a rock not far away, letting the sun dry him. The water was rapid, and she didn’t wade in too deep. She was surprised to see how white her skin looked, once the dirt was all washed off. The sight of her own brown legs and white belly surpr
ised her so that she began to cry. Once the crying started, she couldn’t stop it—she cried as if she would never stop. Gus noticed and walked over to help her out of the river, for she was just standing there sobbing, the water up to her thighs.
Gus didn’t reprimand her. “I ’spect the best thing is for you to cry it out, Lorie,” he said. “You just remember, you got a long time to live.”
“They shouldn’t have took me,” Lorena said, when she stopped crying. She got her rag of a dress and went back to the tent.
62.
ONCE THEY HIT the Territory, Newt began to worry about Indians. He was not alone in his worrying. The Irishman had heard so much about scalping that he often tugged at his own hair as if to reassure himself that it wouldn’t come off easily. Pea Eye, who spent most of his time sharpening his knife or making sure he had enough ammunition, was astonished that the Irishman had never seen a scalped person. During Pea’s years as a Ranger they were always finding scalped settlers, and, for that matter, several of his friends had been scalped.
The Spettle boys, who were slowly becoming more talkative, confided in Newt that they would run away and go home if they weren’t afraid of getting lost.
“But you have to drive the horses,” Newt pointed out. “The Captain hired you.”
“Didn’t know we was coming where the Indians were,” Bill Spettle said.
For all the talk, they saw neither Indians nor cowboys for days on end. They saw no one—just an occasional wolf or coyote. It seemed to Newt that the sky got bigger and the country emptier every day. There was nothing to see but grass and sky. The space was so empty that it was hard to imagine that there might ever be towns in it, or people.
The Irishman particularly found the huge emptiness disturbing. “I guess we left the people,” he said often. Or, “When’s the next people?”
Nobody was quite sure when to expect the next people. “It’s too bad Gus ain’t here,” Pea Eye said. “Gus would know. He’s an expert on where places is at.”
“Why, there’s nothing north of here,” Dish said, surprised that anyone would think otherwise. “You have to go east a ways to get into the towns.”
The Lonesome Dove Chronicles (1-4) Page 184
