Love's Bounty

by Rosanne Bittner

  Her shoulders jerked in a sob as she covered her face. “It was…awful! They took turns…shaming her…brutalizing her. I never felt such terror in my life…nor such awful, awful guilt! I’ll never forgive myself! It just seems like…if I could find them…get them hanged…I’d have done something to help. But even that…won’t erase my guilt.”

  Chris had never felt more sorry for anyone in his life—except for his own dead wife…and little girl. If ever there was good cause to go after someone, this was it, even if she couldn’t pay him. “Five men?”

  She nodded, still sniffling.

  “Did you catch any of their names?”

  She raised her head and jerked in another sob, wiping at more tears. “Just one. Terrence, I think it was. I could see through a crack in the wood box. I remember all their faces…every last…one of them!” She took a handkerchief from a pocket in the skirt of her dress and wiped her nose with it.

  Chris rose and walked to the still-open door, listening to her pour more coffee, probably for herself. He heard the pot grate against the stove, and moments later she told him to come drink his. He turned to see she’d stopped crying, but her eyes were red and puffy.

  “I hate crying,” she told him. “I promise not to be a crybaby while we’re traveling together. I won’t cry if I get hurt. Pain doesn’t make me cry, not physical pain anyway. It’s the pain…inside…that makes me cry.”

  He felt a stab at his own heart. How well he understood that statement. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for watching from the wood box,” he told her. “It’s natural to feel guilty when someone we love gets hurt or killed. We all—” He sighed. “Folks look for ways to blame themselves. Your ma told you not to come out no matter what, and she left this life knowing you’d be okay. That’s better than seeing the same thing happening to you in her last moments, don’t you think?”

  She glanced at her lap. “I suppose.”

  He walked over and sat down. “Okay. We’ve got a deal.”

  Her gaze shot back over at him, some of the agony leaving her face. “We do?”

  He sipped some of the coffee. “Long as you agree to always make the coffee. This is damn good.”

  At last she smiled, and it was just as pretty as he’d figured it would be.

  “Yes, sir! I’ll make the coffee. I’ll do all the cooking!”

  He couldn’t help a smile of his own. “That’s pretty good payment right there.” Damn, he thought all the while. I have to be the craziest son of a bitch who ever walked.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, no! No! No! No! I can’t let you do this, child!”

  “Betty, I am not a child. I know what I’m doing.” Callie sat on a love seat in Betty Sooner’s parlor, still wearing her calico dress. She’d come back to town with Christian Mercy, this time driving a wagon. Tomorrow she intended to stock up on the supplies she would need, then go home and take care of closing up the house and barns. The two horses she kept for pulling her wagon would be sold to Chet Willis at the stables when she returned to town.

  “You’re being irrational.” Hank tried to reason with Callie. “This is all because of what you’ve been through. You’re looking for a way to relieve the grief you still suffer.”

  “I am looking for a way to keep these men from hurting or killing someone else,” Callie told him. “From what I’ve heard about Mr. Mercy, and what I’ve seen, I think he’s the man who can do the job.”

  “You don’t know anything about him except that he’s a bounty hunter,” Betty answered. “How do you know you’ll be safe traveling alone with him?”

  “Because I just know. You get feelings about people. I already know he taught English once, so he’s an educated man. And he’s also been married. When I ask him about either one, he gets real edgy, won’t talk about it. I think it’s all got something to do with why he does what he does. Maybe his wife was murdered or something. Anyways, anybody can see he’s a good man at heart, a good man turned bounty hunter because of some kind of bad thing that happened to him. I can sure understand that. And he’s clean and mannerly. I’ll be just fine.”

  “But…the Outlaw Trail!” Hank Sooner threw up his hands. “Good Lord, girl, you’ll run into some of the worst of them. What if something happens to Christian Mercy? There you’d be, all alone amid thieves and murderers.”

  “They might be thieves and murderers, but they’re not all rapists.” Callie looked at her lap, feeling her cheeks going red. “Mr. Mercy says that most of those men live by a certain code when it comes to women. He knows it will be dangerous, but he said if he sets them straight about me, most of them won’t be any bother that way.”

  “Except if they steal your horses and leave you stranded. And the fact remains you won’t know which ones to trust and which ones not to trust.”

  “Then I will just have to take my chances.”

  Betty closed her eyes and sighed. “You are such a stubborn young woman,” she told her. “I know we can’t legally stop you. We are your friends, not your guardians, and you are eighteen years old. But we so liked your parents, and I know they would want us to look out for you, Callie.”

  The woman sat next to her, and Callie took hold of her hand. “You’ve been real good to me, Betty. But you have to stop worrying. You and Hank have your business to run, and you have two grown children of your own, your son in school back East, your daughter married and expecting. Pretty soon you’ll have a grandchild to fuss over. I’ve made this decision all on my own, and you shouldn’t feel bad if it does turn out to be a disaster. Me and Mr. Mercy will take a stagecoach through Muddy Gap and on up to Lander.”

  “Oh, Callie, that’s so dangerous! The precarious mountain roads, stage robbers, or maybe Indians.”

  “Mostly it’s the Sioux who make trouble, Mr. Mercy says. They’ve been concentrating on the Black Hills to the east. I’m good with Pa’s shotgun, and I know Mr. Mercy is good with six-guns and rifle. I’m not worried, and the coach ride can’t be all that bad. We’ll buy some good riding horses and more supplies when we reach Lander. Then we’ll head on up to a place called Hole-in-the-Wall, where a lot of horse thieves graze their stolen horses. We might be able to get a lead there on the men who killed my mother.”

  Betty just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “I promise to try to write to you once in a while,” Callie told her, “if I can find a way to get mail back to you. But if you…if you never hear from me again, you ought to just rest easy that I was happy inside trying to find those men. I just know in my heart it’s the right thing to do. I’ll never be truly happy again if I don’t try this. All I want from you is your promise to go out once in a while and check on the house, make sure there’s no squatters in it messing things up. And if me or Mr. Mercy never come back, you’re free to sell it and keep the money.”

  She reached into a pocket of her dress. “I wrote this up for you to put away and keep. It says that if I don’t return in a year, and if Mr. Mercy doesn’t come to claim the ranch, it’s yours to do with what you want. Mr. Mercy agreed to that. He signed the note, too, so he can’t come along after you’ve claimed it and try to say it’s his.”

  Betty’s eyes teared as she took the note. “Oh, Callie.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just wish me luck and pray for me.”

  Betty shook her head, reaching into a skirt pocket for a handkerchief. “It just isn’t fair, what you’ve been through. I’ve never been able to understand why God let your mother suffer like that.”

  Callie felt a lump rise in her throat. “I guess we just aren’t meant to understand some things. Life can be pretty mean to folks sometimes, but we know there’s a better place to go to, and we’ll all be there someday. My folks are already there, and they don’t have to work so hard anymore.”

  Hank walked over to a desk and pulled out a drawer, from which he took a metal box. “Callie, I want to give you some money to help with expenses.”

  “Oh, no, H
ank. That’s not necessary. I’m a good saver. I’ve got money.”

  “You don’t know how long this will take or what more you will need. You could end up stranded somewhere and need money to get back to Rawlins. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do to make me feel better about it is let me help you out financially.”

  Callie sighed in resignation. “If it makes you feel better. But I’ll pay back every cent when I return. In fact, I’ll try hard not to use it at all.”

  “You use it any way you need, and don’t worry about paying it back.” Hank walked over to where she sat, handing her several bills. “There’s fifty dollars there.”

  “Fifty! Oh, that’s too much, Hank. I can’t take it all.”

  “You can and you will, young lady. Just keep it to yourself until you know for sure you can trust Mercy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Callie rose. “I thank you both for everything you’ve done for me, especially this past year. And I will see you again. I just know it.”

  Betty also stood up, and she embraced Callie. “I do hope you’re right, Callie.” She pulled away, and Hank reached out to shake Callie’s hand.

  “I’ll keep an eye on the ranch. When are you leaving?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll be packing and closing everything up. Then I’ll ride back to town.” She looked at Betty. “You won’t think less of me, traveling alone with him, will you?”

  Betty shook her head. “I know what a good, sweet young lady you are. We understand why you have to be along. You’re the only one who can identify those men.”

  Callie felt the piercing pain in her chest again. “I sure can.” She stuffed Hank’s money into the drawstring handbag she carried. “Thanks again, both of you. I think I’ll go to my hotel room and get some sleep. Got a couple of big days ahead of me.”

  Betty walked her to the door, and after more good-byes, Callie left, walking across the street and along the boardwalk to the two-story hotel where she would stay for the night. She walked inside, greeting the man at the desk, then went upstairs to her room, closing and locking the door. She walked to a window, watching the street below, wanting to cry at how kind the Sooners had been to her and at the thought that she just might never see them again after tomorrow.

  The streets were quieter now. The vendors had closed up and gone their way, and farther up the street she could see the gallows were partially torn down. Everyone hoped they would not be needed again, but her own fondest wish was that they would be needed again…for the men who’d killed her mother.

  She started to turn away, when she noticed him, Christian Mercy. He rode right past her window and halted his horse in front of the Boot ’N Saddle Saloon. A fancy-dressed saloon girl met him at the swinging doors at the front of the building. She saw Mercy put an arm around the girl and lead her farther inside, and a jealousy that surprised her burned at her. For the first time in her life she wondered how she would look if she was dressed like that saloon girl…and if so, would Christian Mercy notice?

  “What a stupid thought!” she grumbled, turning away from the window. She had better things to think about.

  Chapter Six

  Callie felt nauseated from the swaying and jolting of the mud wagon, as their coach was called. For some reason, the smaller wheels in front and bigger wheels in back made the thing go through mud and soft riverbeds better than the standard stagecoach, and because the top was made of nothing more than light wood covered with canvas that could be rolled up to allow air in, or left down to help keep dust from rolling inside, it was lighter than the standard coach.

  Callie struggled to keep from vomiting, clinging to a strap that hung from the side of the coach and watching the passing scenery, mostly quite pretty, as they made their way along a winding, rutted road that followed all the flattest spots possible.

  “I’ll be glad to travel by horseback if we ever reach Lander,” she told Chris, whom she noticed did not seem terribly affected by the rough ride.

  “You aren’t the only one,” he answered.

  The wagon hit a hole so hard that Callie nearly came off her seat. She winced and clung more tightly to the strap, and without warning the vomit came up. She managed to get her head out the opening beside her just quick enough to disgorge the biscuits she’d eaten for lunch, hard as they were. They were the quickest and easiest thing to eat among the items she’d packed for sustenance along the way. There were no regular stage stops until Muddy Gap, a good thirty more miles.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she moaned as she pulled her head back into the car. “It just came on me so quick.” She glanced at the man who sat beside Chris, both men sitting opposite her. Her embarrassment knew no bounds, but the stranger with them just laughed.

  “I’ve seen it happen before,” he told her. “They advertise these things as a great way to travel. Great for your horses, maybe, since it saves a workout for them, but as far as I’m concerned, I’d take ten days on a horse to one day in one of these coaches.”

  Chris grinned as he maneuvered himself to reach into a front pocket on his denim pants. He pulled out a round peppermint and handed it to Callie. “Here. I had a feeling this could happen. This will make your stomach feel a little better.”

  Callie took the candy gladly. “Thank you so much.”

  The other passenger frowned. “Say, aren’t you Callie Hobbs?”

  Callie put the candy into her mouth and nodded, guessing the man to be perhaps forty years in age. He had a beanpole build, with bony cheeks and friendly brown eyes. He displayed a wide smile that made it look as though he had more teeth than the normal amount.

  “Sure. I know you…knew your pa. He used to buy and sell livestock from my boss, Hurley Getz.” He turned to Chris. “I’m on my way to Lander to look at some livestock for Mr. Getz. Name’s Cal Becker.”

  He put out his hand, and Chris shook it. “Nice to know you.”

  “You too,” Becker answered affably. “And your name?”

  Chris glanced at Callie before answering. “Christian Mercy.”

  “Christian—” The man’s eyebrows arched in remembrance. “You’re the bounty hunter who brought those men in for hanging!”

  Chris sobered. “I am.”

  “I’ll be damned.” Becker snickered. “I’m sorry, but Christian Mercy sure is a strange name for a bounty hunter. The two just don’t quite go together, if you get my meaning.”

  They all bounced on their seats as they passed over another hole in the road. “Nothing I can do about it. It’s my given name.”

  Becker frowned and looked from Chris to Callie. “You traveling with him?” he asked Callie.

  “Yes, sir. We’re going to find the men who killed my mother, and Mr. Mercy is going to make sure they are brought in and hanged, just like those men who were hanged the other day.”

  “Why don’t you let Mr. Mercy here go after those men alone?” he asked her.

  “Because I’m the only one who can identify them.”

  Becker chuckled. “Whooeee! You’ve got your work cut out for you. Sounds like you’re taking on a lot for such a young woman.”

  Callie enjoyed the peppermint, realizing it did make her stomach feel a little better. “I might be, but it will be worth it if I find those men.”

  Becker grinned and nodded. “Well, now, I expect it will. I always felt real sorry for you, the way you lost both your folks. What about your pa’s ranch and farm?”

  “I’ve got Mr. Sooner watching it for me. I’ll decide what to do about that when I get back.” She glanced at Chris, who looked away and took a silver cigarette box from his shirt pocket. He opened it and took out a pre-rolled cigarette, quickly closing the box before another bump could cause all the cigarettes to fall out. He took a match from the same pocket before putting back the slender box, then struck the match. His hands wavered as the coach hit yet another rut in the road, but he finally managed to light his smoke.

  “You two going all the way to Lander?” Becker asked.


  “Yes, sir.”

  “I think we’ve told Mr. Becker enough,” Chris put in, giving Callie a warning look. He turned to Becker then. “I appreciate your interest, but it’s best not too many people know where we’re going and why,” he told the man. “I think you can appreciate that. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about us to anybody once we reach Lander.”

  “Yeah?” The man thought a moment. “Oh! Sure enough! I’ll keep quiet.” He smiled at Callie. “I wish you luck, Miss Hobbs. God knows you deserve some.”

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Becker.”

  Becker turned to Chris. “You must be pretty good with those guns.”

  Chris shrugged. “Some think so. That doesn’t mean there aren’t some who are better. I don’t dwell on it much.” He took a long drag on the cigarette and turned away to pull the cord that rolled up the canvas at the opening nearest his end of the seat. “Looks like storm clouds to the west.”

  Callie suspected he was trying to change the subject.

  “Storms can hit hard, fast, and wild in these parts,” Becker told him.

  He no sooner spoke than they heard a rumble of thunder loud enough to be heard above the beating hooves of the team of horses pulling the coach, as well as the general clatter and squeaking of the coach itself.

  “Well, now, I expect we’ll get wet,” Becker said. “The canvas flapped over the sides of this thing aren’t much good keeping out rain. I’ve been through storms in these things before. I hope your gear is wrapped in slickers or something.”

  “It’s all covered good,” Callie told him, wishing he weren’t so talkative. She felt too sick to talk. She felt some relief at the smell of rain in the air, glad a storm was coming. The day had been miserably hot, which was part of the reason she’d vomited. Already she felt cooler air from the storm.