by Danni Roan
Several hours later, a cold bright night spread its jeweled blanket across the sky as Titus began looking for a likely place to camp out of the wind and drifting snow.
He’d ridden longer than he would have, but he wanted to push into Wyoming before the weather was too bad.
Shuffling carefully along the edge of the trail, he turned his horse toward a small grove of pines, pulled rein and climbed down.
As his boots touched the frosty earth, Titus felt his heel slip and grabbed at his saddle and the horse that stood on firmer ground, but his weight was already down and as he lost his footing he felt himself slipping into nothingness.
The icy shudder and tumbling roll of rock, then the thudding crash of his body hitting bottom was the last thing Titus remembered.
Warm breath and a raspy tickle pulled Titus from the blackness that had taken him, and he tried to raise a hand to push away whatever was tickling his face.
He was cold, cold through to the bone, and his arms wouldn’t work properly, but he pried his eyes open and looked up into the muzzle of his old brown mule.
“Found me did ya?” he mumbled through cracked lips.
The mule huffed softly his warm breath, bringing some feeling back into Titus’s face.
Finally, making his fingers work; he grasped the mules chest strap and pulled himself into a sitting position with a groan.
He couldn’t name a place that didn’t hurt, and the biting cold nipping at his toes and fingers could only mean he’d been out for a while.
Steadying himself with the mule’s breast strap, he managed to grasp a stirrup and stand on numb feet.
A deep ache in his rib cages stole his breath making his head swim as he leaned on the old animal.
After what seemed like hours, he managed to pull himself over the animal’s lumpy packs as the world spun.
Slowly the mule turned down the uneven trail that led to the valley below. The rider didn’t seem to mind and the animals own common sense pushed it toward the low lands.
Behind him the sound of his stablemate’s hooves echoed off of icy stone as the mule plodded onward into the relative shelter of the lowlands.
“Hey, mister are you dead?” a voice broke through the haze of pain and semi conciseness that engulfed Titus.
“If he’s dead, you reckon Pa’ll let me keep his horse?”
“Who says you get the horse, you can have the mule,” another voice broke in, “I’m the oldest; I should get the horse.”
A tussle of some sort broke out and Titus strained to open his eyes catching broken glimpses of two boys pushing each other.
Trying to raise his head Titus groaned, slumping back against the packs.
“Hey, I guess he ain’t dead yet,” One of the boys said. “I’d better go fetch Pa.”
Titus could hear the sound of running feet then caught a glimpse of a small hand reaching up and taking the mule by the halter.
“What’s going on here?” A man’s voice shook Titus awake again. His head was ringing and the voice echoed in his brain.
“We found ‘em Pa,” one of the boys spoke up.
“See I told ya, Pa,” the other chimed in.
Strong hands pressed into Titus’s back and he tried to rise, but the effort only made his head spin and his stomach churn.
“Let’s get him to the mission,” the man said. “You’re ma’ll know what to do for him.”
The strong hand returned holding Titus in place as the mule picked up its pace.
“IS HE AWAKE YET?” A woman’s voice drifted through the darkness as Titus fought against the tide of black.
“I think he’s coming around,” Another woman’s voice replied as a cool cloth touched his forehead.
“He was near froze to death,” the first voice said and Titus managed to open his eyes wincing at the light.
“Ma, he’s awake.” Titus shifted his eyes to the side catching a glimpse of a young woman with bright blonde locks falling over her shoulder.
“You move on out ‘the way now Sarah Jane,” the older woman spoke, “let me see to him.”
“Yes ma’am.” The girl said softly.
“Can ya speak?” the older woman took the chair that the younger one had been in only moments ago.
“Yes ma’am.” Titus said his voice gravely.
“Fetch us some water Sarah Jane,” The older woman barked, and the girl who had been hovering in the background jumped to comply.
“Where am I?” Titus asked trying to lift his arm but grimacing with the pain.
“You’re safe,” the older woman said. “Looks like you done took a fall,” she added. “Not surprising being how you’re out traipsing about this time of year.”
Titus tried to focus. He remembered falling, and the mule.
“You dislocated your shoulder.” The woman continued. “Maybe bruised a couple of ribs. What on earth made you start riding these trails at this time of the year?”
The young woman returned holding a glass of water, her dark eyes falling on Titus.
“Here, you drink this,” the older woman said taking the glass and helping him sit up slightly to drink. “We’ll talk later.”
Titus sagged back into the warm bed. “Thank you,” he offered, looking at the older woman then the younger one who smiled.
Chapter 15
“HEY MISTER WHAT YOU doin’ out’a bed?” one of the boys looked up from a rough wooden table.
“Ma, that fella that fell off the mountain is up.” The other boy called out.
A tall thin man with graying hair came from another room and grinned at Titus. “Good to see you up,” he offered, reaching out to take Titus’s hand. “I’m Bill Bentley.”
“Titus,” Titus said taking the other man’s hand.
“You boys clear off,” Mr. Bentley said. “Let Titus and me have a seat, and tell Sarah Jane to bring us some coffee.”
“Yes sir,” one boy droned.
“Pa, does this mean I can’t keep that horse?”
“Get on with you, you scamp.” Mr. Bentley said with a chuckle. “Sorry about that those boys are a bit bored just now.”
Titus grinned; he could only imagine what the prospect of your own mount at that age would mean to a boy of ten or twelve.
“So tell me what are you doing out here in this weather?” Mr. Bentley asked. “Molly and me was talkin’ it over last night, and I’ll admit to being mighty curious.”
“To be honest sir, I’ve been looking for you.” Titus admitted rubbing the back of his neck.
“Me? What for?”
Titus rummaged in the pocket of his shirt and pulled out the paper from Sherriff Davis.
Mr. Bentley scanned the letter shaking his head. “Sounds like my brother Bob has been getting’ himself worked up over nothing,” he said handing the letter back. “He should a known I’d stop if we had trouble or the weather turned bad.”
Titus took the letter, folding it and tucking it back into his pocket. “You had some trouble?” he asked.
“Pa, Calvin said you wanted coffee.” The young woman walked into the small room carrying two cups and a coffee pot.
She looked lovely in a simple brown dress that nearly matched her eyes, and her smile was welcoming.
“Thank you Sarah Jane.” The older man said with a smile, taking the cups and placing them on the table so that the young woman could pour.
“Sarah Jane, I’d like you to meet Titus.” Mr. Bentley added.
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Titus,” the girl said her brown eyes friendly.
“Miss Bentley.” Titus greeted.
“Where’s your ma?” Mr. Bentley asked.
“She’s over at the mission helping the padre,” Sarah Jane replied.
“Well when she gets back let her know our guest is up. Come to think of it he’s probably hungry as well.” The older man turned questioning eyes on Titus.
“I could eat.” Titus said with a smile.
“I’ll get you something,” Sarah Jane said smiling ba
ck at Titus, “and you Pa?”
“Whatever you have,” Mr. Bentley agreed.
The young woman disappeared into the other room again and Mr. Bentley studied Titus.
“You a deputy then?” he finally asked sipping his coffee.
“Yes sir.” Titus said, lifting the piping brew and breathing in the heady scent. “Sheriff Davis is friends with the sheriff up at Biders Clump and asked me to see what I could do.”
“Well I’m afraid we won’t be making that far this winter,” Mr. Bentley said. “We had some problems. First we lost a horse to a broken leg. Then we had trouble with our wagon, and finally, we nearly got snowed in with an early snow in the pass.”
Titus shook his head, “You’re lucky you made it this far by the sounds of things.”
“Yes we were. We made it through the snow in the lower pass and into this valley with the padres.”
Titus cocked his head curious.
“There’s a mission school here, and the priests run a trading post of sorts. They trade with the natives in the area selling items made here back east to keep the place funded.”
“So they gave you a place to sit out the winter.”
“Yes, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Mr. Bentley folded his arms over his chest with a big grin.
Titus returned the grin, the man was smart.
“What will you do when you heal up?” Mr. Bentley asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to see what the situation’s like and then decide. I should try to get word to Sheriff Davis if I can though. He’ll be glad you’ve been found safe and sound.”
“I already sent word out to my brother,” Mr. Bentley said looking confused. “I would have thought it got there by now.”
“It could have,” Titus agreed. “I’ve been on the trail for a while and might have missed it.”
“We’ll talk to the padre and see what he thinks, but first let’s have some grub.”
No sooner had the man said the words than his daughter returned with two plates of beef and gravy with fried potatoes.
“That looks mighty good,” Titus said to the girl who smiled at him quietly.
“I’ve got a pie in the oven as well, so you’ll even get dessert.”
Titus had just dug into his meal when Mrs. Bentley came bustling through the door.
“Bill Bentley what are you doing letting this young man out of bed. What if he has a head injury?”
The dark haired woman hustled over to the table looking at Titus closely. “Does your head hurt?” she demanded, leaning forward and looking into his eyes.
“No ma’am,” Titus gulped meeting her dark eyes.
“How’s your stomach, feeling queasy?”
“No ma’am,” Titus repeated.
“Know any words besides ‘No’,” the woman added, her lips twitching.
“Yes ma’am,” Titus said smiling.
“Well I guess you’ll be alright then. I guess all that’s left is lunch.”
“I’ve got it Ma,” Sarah Jane returned to the table with two more plates. “The boys are eating in the kitchen.”
“Thank you Sarah Jane. Bill did you say grace?”
Mr. Bentley blushed softly putting down his fork and reaching out for his daughter and wife’s hands as they joined the men at the table.
Before he realized what was happening Titus’s hands were firmly grasped by the two Bentley women as they bowed their heads to give thanks.
Mr. Bentley prayer was a fine prayer, full of thanks and going on for many seconds.
The longer Mr. Bentley prayed the more Titus became aware of the small soft hand in his.
Opening one eye he peeked at the girl called Sarah Jane. She had a soft pale face, and her golden hair was like a wheat field at harvest. When she opened one dark brown eye to peek back at him, he closed his tight and chimed in with his host’s resounding Amen.
Titus couldn’t help but see the smile playing about Miss Bentley’s soft lips, and he knew he’d been caught looking at her.
“Molly, this young man’s been out hunting for us.”
“What? What for?” Mrs. Bentley turned her dark eyes on Titus.
“Sherriff Davis is friends with the sheriff in Biders Clump, and I guess our family up there was worried about us.”
“Oh dear, they must not have gotten our message.”
“I’m sure they will.” Mr. Bentley reached out patting his wife’s hand.” I think the big thing is that we need to let Sheriff Davis know that Titus is safe and sound.”
“Does that mean you’ll be staying with us Mr. Titus?” Sarah Jane asked her dark eyes, so much like her mother’s, bright.
Chapter 16
THE NEXT MORNING TITUS insisted on leaving the bed he’d been sleeping in. He knew it belonged to Sarah h Jane, and he was determined not to put the family out any more than necessary.
“How’s the arm today?” Mr. Bentley asked as Titus joined him for breakfast.
“Not too bad Mr. Bentley,” Titus said. “A little sore,” he added giving his arm a little turn.
“Call me Bill,” The older man insisted. “I thought you might want to check on your stock this morning. The boys have been doing a good job of looking after them.” He smiled at the twins.
“We really have,” the first boy said.
“ I’ve done most of the work though,” the other chimed in.
“Did not.” The first boy insisted.
“Did too.” The second returned with a shove and in an instant they were both rolling on the floor arguing loudly.
“Calvin! Melvin! That’ll be enough.” Mrs. Bentley’s voice rang out as she stepped into the room. “If you have enough energy to be fighting, you have enough to go clean the chicken coop for the brothers and be about it quick.”
The boys, who had frozen in place at their mother’s tone rose, grumbling and trudged to the door to retrieve their coats.
“See what you done.” Calvin asked.
“Me, you started it.” Melvin insisted.
Titus laughed. It was still hard for him to tell the boys apart with their blonde hair and brown eyes, but he suspected in time he’d have it sorted out.
“Those boys,” Mrs. Bentley said. “Bill you’d better add to their list of chores again.”
“I will Molly. I will.” Bill said with a grin.
After breakfast Bill and Titus headed out to the barn where the mule and his horse were stabled.
“They look fine,” Titus said. “You’re boys seem to be good with stock.”
“They should be,” Bill chuckled, “I’m constantly sending them to the barn to do work just to keep them out of trouble.”
Titus smiled; he knew how young boys could get to each other.
For a moment Titus froze staring into nothingness, his eyes trying to focus on some forgotten memory.
“You alright son?” Bill asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
Titus shook his head clearing the smoke of what could only be his past from his brain.
“I’m all right,” he said, not sounding all right.
Walking to the old mule he laid his hand on the animal’s shoulder and listened to the familiar grunted greeting.
“You had that mule a while I guess.” Bill said.
Titus chuckled darkly, “As long as I can remember.” Turning he looked up at the other man. “I’m afraid I don’t exactly know who I am,” he said, nodding as the older man stared at him. “You see I can only remember about the last year and a half of my life.”
“No kidding?” Bill said obviously curious.
“Old Jed, a prospector out in Nevada found me shot along a trail when his donkey ran off on him. I guess Bitty, the donkey, caught the scent of this mule and joined him over me. I’d been shot, glanced off my head taking my whole life with it.”
Bill shook his head, “But now you’re a deputy.”
“Sheriff Davis asked me to step in after I caught up with the men who beat old Jed ne
arly to death. He said if I was that dogged about justice for my friend then I guess he figured I was alright in his book.”
Bill shook his head.
“I suspect he had another good look through the wanted posters before he made the offer though.” Titus said with a wry chuckle.
Bill slapped Titus on the shoulder. “Well you seem to be living up to the Sheriff’s expectations, so that’s good enough for me.”
“Ah, Mr. Bentley, I’m so glad I found you,” a priest in dark robes and a heavy Indian blanket wrap stepped into the barn. “I was wondering if you might speak with your boys. As much as I appreciate their efforts to clean the chicken coop for the order, I’m afraid that the shouting and enthusiastic shoveling may well put the hens off laying for a month.”
Bill Bentley placed a fist over his mouth and coughed to cover the laugh that bubbled up inside. “I’ll see to it right away brother Dominic,” he said. “By the way this is Titus; he’s just arrived.”
The priest pulled his hand from inside his wide sleeve and offered it to Titus. “You are welcome young man. All are welcome at Parson’s Prairie.” He cut his eyes toward Bill again then back to Titus. “We’ll see you in services tonight.” He finished then turned and stepped out of the barn.
“We’d best get over there to the coop before the boys burn it down,” Bill said. “There’s no telling what notions those two will get in their heads.”
Titus followed Bill as they made their way around a small adobe brick building and past a dried up garden. As they passed the last wall of the enclosed space, the sound of manic clucking, raucous shouting and heavy banging made both men break into a trot.
“GOOD HEAVENS!” MRS. Bentley cried when Bill entered her pristine kitchen a twin grasped firmly by the ear in each hand.
“You said clean the chicken coop,” Melvin protested as his father released him.
“We only did what you said,” Calvin chimed in.
“I didn’t say clean it by covering yourselves in feathers and dung,” their mother snipped.
“I’m turning them over to you Molly while Titus and I go finish the job, and hopefully mollify the hens at the same time.”
