With Endless Sight

by Allison Pittman

  “It’s not stealing, little sister. It’s protecting everything that we have left.”

  “Then why didn’t you ever think of it before? Why didn’t Daddy?”

  “Because Dad’s a dreamer. That’s why he lost the business. That’s why we’re in the middle of this mess. And I’m not going to watch it all just ride away in the hands of some thief.”

  “No,” I said. “You’re just going to throw it all on some card table. Losing it, dollar by dollar until—”

  “Just shut up!” Chester grabbed my arms and yanked me clear off my feet. “I get so sick of your self-righteous, holier-than—”

  “Put her down,” Del said.

  When my brother obeyed, I found my legs shaking beneath me so that I stumbled a bit and was steadied by Del’s strong hand on my shoulder.

  “Now,” he continued, “whatever happens from here is a family matter, and I won’t be a part of that. You work it out and let me know. I’m always up for a ride.”

  He stood behind me, his hand still gripping my shoulder, and before I knew to pull away, he leaned over me and planted a short, soft kiss on my cheek.

  “In case I don’t see you in the morning, it was nice meetin’ you, Miss Belinda. And I look forward to seein’ you again.”

  He was nearly out of sight before I took another breath.

  “What do you say, Lindy?” Chester said.

  “Do you think you can trust him?” I asked, still feeling his kiss.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I looked into his brown eyes—so much like my own—and searched for the familiar glint, the twinkle of mischief that always accompanied his most troublesome requests. But I saw just him, my brother, cut to his core. Truthfully, I didn’t know if I trusted this man standing before me; I’d never seen him before.

  “I don’t see why we just don’t leave all of this in God’s hands,” I finally said.

  “What? Don’t you think God has two hands? that He can protect you and me both?”

  The glint was back, just a shadow of it, but enough to give me my answer.

  11

  Later that night, our family gathered around the big cookfire in the center of the camp, bloated and happy after a delicious meal of rabbit stew and Marty’s sweet cornbread. Mother had come to her senses and pinned her hair up but more loosely than was her usual style. She looked soft and pretty in the firelight, and more than once I saw Daddy looking at her with an expression I’m sure he never intended me to see. Del sat on the other side of the fire, and I chanced a few glances at him between the dancing flames, wondering if he—or any other man—would ever look at me that way.

  The night was alive with stories and laughter. Marty took out a harmonica, and its haunting notes hovered around us. Sometimes, if he knew the tune, Daddy would sing, and Mother leaned on his shoulder, her eyes closed in contentment. Phoebe begged Del to tell us more about his adventures as a Pony Express rider, but he looked up at her and said quietly, “It’s nothin’ but ridin’ a horse.”

  “But what about—” Phoebe said.

  “I’m not much on tellin’ stories.” He ended the discussion with a modest smile.

  Chester sat with us too, but he dug at the ground around him with a sharp little stick and jumped at every spark that popped from the fire. Seeing him fidget so, I could understand why he seemed to lose more money than he ever won. He became still only when his shifting eyes locked onto mine, reaffirming my promise.

  He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, and I closed my eyes.

  Father God, I prayed silently, forgive me.

  I stood up, gave an exaggerated stretch, and announced to our little gathering that I was exhausted.

  “After such a restful day?” Mother nestled into my father’s embrace. “I feel like I could stay up all night.”

  “You do that.” I glanced at Chester. “We’ll see who’s grumpy in the morning.”

  “Good night, Miss Belinda,” Del said. I realized then that he was standing too.

  “Good-bye, Del.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Sis,” Chester said. “You’re going to see him in the morning, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” I hoped my voice didn’t hold the same sense of deception that Chester’s did. “Good night, all.”

  I declined the offer of a candle to take into our cabin, preferring to keep my sin in the dark. I knew where my father’s trunk was, having rearranged its contents myself in the guise of looking for a missing pair of stockings. Daddy had wanted to load it and all of our belongings tonight, but Mother had prevailed, wanting one complete day free of the labors of travel. Feeling my way in the darkness, I released the latches, lifted the lid, and ran my fingers along the sides, searching for the soft, flat leather pouch I’d tucked in just hours before. Once I found it, I clutched it in a moment of indecision before lifting it out and gently closing the trunk’s lid.

  I picked my way through our crowded cabin and found my cot. I’d spent many a night on this journey wishing for a pillow but never as much as I did tonight. With no place to hide the money, I lay down right on top of it and closed my eyes.

  At some point during the night, my feigned sleep must have become real, because I was startled from it by my father’s cracking snore. There was a gap between the planks in the cabin’s wall, and I peered through it, noting that the fire had burned down to glowing coals and the entire camp seemed to be engulfed in sleep. I remained still, listening to the depth of Daddy’s slumber and Mother’s quiet, rhythmic echo. But something was missing.

  “Phoebe?” I whispered into the darkness.

  No answer.

  I sat up and reached out to pat the cot behind me. Then I stretched farther, searching for her soft form.

  She was gone. Or had never come in.

  I scrambled around for my shoes, glad to find that they had not been disturbed, as I didn’t relish trying to find my brother on a night that was not only dark but cold. Plus, something told me that wherever I found Chester, I would find Phoebe as well, and I might need the boots to kick her all the way back.

  The door opened silently on leather hinges, and I stepped out, pausing to get my bearings in the dark. It certainly wouldn’t do for me to wander off and get lost, only to be found clutching a leather pouch filled with the bulk of our family’s fortune.

  Chester had instructed me to meet him just behind the barn, where he was bunking with some of the other men. He and Del would be waiting, horses saddled and ready. The thought of meeting Del there made me stop and wish I’d thought to run a brush through my hair. He’d have to be content with a final vision of me, pale in the wan moonlight, my dark hair loose and falling across my shoulders.

  That is, of course, if he chose to remember me at all.

  I found the barn easily enough and saw two saddled horses.

  “Psst! Miss Belinda,” Del summoned from the shadows.

  I picked my way over to where he stood, reins in hand. One of the horses startled at my approach, causing Del to make soft, soothing sounds as he gently petted the animal’s cheek.

  “Now you hush up,” he crooned. “Nothin’ to be scared about. It’s just a pretty girl come to give me her blessing.”

  “Oh, I’m not here to see you.” I stumbled over my words, thankful for the darkness to hide my blushing. “Where’s Chester?”

  Del gestured toward the barn behind him. “Seems that cousin of yours wanted to give him a little blessing of her own.”

  “Oh no,” I said as images of what Phoebe might do to wrangle Chester into her romantic fantasy filled my mind. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

  Del chuckled. “I haven’t known the girl long, but I have a feeling once her mind’s set …”

  I clutched my father’s wallet ever closer, pushed past him, grabbed the unlatched door, and opened it slowly.

  It was warm inside and sweeter smelling than I would have imagined. From what I’d seen, few of the men owned horses and those who did tended to let them ran
ge free. I was prepared for it to be at least as dark inside as it was outside but was surprised by a faint glow coming from behind one of the low walls that divided the room into four stalls. One mingled shadow played across the ceiling in the far corner, moving in unison with soft, whimpering sounds. I was about to charge forward to rescue what was left of my cousin’s virtue when I realized that what I heard was Phoebe’s anguished weeping.

  “Aw, Phoebe, it’s all right,” Chester was saying in that warm, cajoling way he had that could make you forget all the wrongs he’d ever done you.

  Phoebe didn’t respond. I eased my way closer, breathless, wanting to give fair warning but also compelled by a shameful curiosity. A final step brought me to where I could see inside the stall while remaining hidden from their view, and I somehow managed to stifle my sigh of relief.

  Chester sat on the ground, the low-burning lantern sitting to one side. Phoebe sat next to him, her face buried in his shoulder, as her body shuddered with the shedding of her tears. Chester held her close, one hand softly stroking her blond hair that seemed much thinner and paler in the lamplight. His eyes were closed, and he bent down to kiss the top of her head.

  “I just don’t understand.” Phoebe’s voice was muffled against his shirt. She pulled away then to look at him, and I saw her face, red and wet with tears, strands of hair plastered to her cheek. “Am I that ugly?”

  “You’re not ugly at all.” Chester smoothed the hair away from her face and wiped her tears with his hands.

  “Of course I am. I’ve seen those other girls—”

  “But you haven’t seen yourself. If you could see yourself right now—it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

  “Then why don’t you love me?”

  “Aw, Phoebe. I do love you—”

  “Not the way I love you, Chester. Not at all. You’re the only reason I’m even here.”

  “Then I’ve done something right,” he said, and I secretly smiled with him.

  “And now you’re leaving. And I might never see you again—”

  “Now don’t be silly. Of course you will. Ask Lindy; we have it all figured.”

  “But it won’t make any difference, because I’ll still be this hideous creature and you won’t—you’ll never—”

  “Now Phoebe,” he held her face in his hands, “do you know what’s going to happen?”

  “I think so,” she said, her little eyes narrowed.

  Chester smiled. “No, you don’t. You don’t know that the minute I ride out of here, I’m going to fade away from that great big heart of yours.”

  “Never,” Phoebe said, and I tended to agree.

  “You just wait, girl. You’re going into a whole new world out here. Men the kind and character that you’ve never seen before. You know what the problem was back home?”

  She gave the tiniest shake of her head.

  “You’re too much of a woman for those Belleville boys. Me included.”

  “Do you think I’m fat too?” New tears welled in Phoebe’s eyes.

  Chester threw his head back, laughing, then put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a good-natured shake. “No, silly! I mean your spirit. I don’t know any woman who has as much gumption as you do, Phoebe, and precious few men who do, for that matter. But out here, you’re going to meet men who are just as wild at heart as you are. There’s no way you’re going to scare them off.”

  “Do I scare you?”

  I saw the last of the resolve leave her. She slumped within his grip, and it was all I could do to keep from running to them, taking her in my arms, and reaffirming everything my brother said.

  Chester held her very still and looked straight into her eyes, his deep brown ones holding her gaze even as he slowly shook his head. “No, Phoebe. You honor me. And if you knew the person I really am—”

  “I do know,” Phoebe said. “And it doesn’t matter. I love you anyway.”

  At that moment, I loved him too. More than I ever had. I was about to make my presence known when I saw Chester take Phoebe’s face in his hands once again.

  “Phoebe,” he said, “would it be all right if I kissed you good-bye?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice little more than a breath.

  He pulled her close, so slowly that I felt my heart would burst before he touched his lips to hers. The softest whimper escaped Phoebe’s mouth before Chester pulled her closer and closer until she seemed lost in his embrace.

  I brought my hand up to my mouth, ashamed to be witness to such an intimate moment, but treasuring the kindness of my brother’s heart. Slowly, silently, I backed toward the door, and when I felt it brush against me, I opened it, knocking loudly.

  “Chester? Are you in here?”

  There was a scrambling of straw before Chester’s head poked up over the stall. “Yeah, I’m in here. Is everything ready?”

  I nodded.

  He disappeared for just a moment, then came out carrying the lamp. Outside, the cool night air was refreshing to my burning cheeks, especially when the memory of what I’d just witnessed collided with the vision of Del, who had the slightest, slyest smile.

  “You ready to go, Romeo?” he asked, handing over a set of reins and shuffling around to the other side of his horse.

  Chester sent him a look of warning before turning back to me. “Did you bring it?”

  I nodded again and handed him the leather pouch. Any thought I had of taking one more stand against this idea had long since melted. He grabbed me in a quick embrace and planted a loud, smacking kiss on top of my head.

  “I love you, Lindy.”

  “I love you too, Chester,” I said, my breath nearly crushed out of me.

  “Take care of everybody.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He released me and swung up onto his horse.

  “Let’s get out of here before the whole camp wakes up to see what all this huggin’s about,” Del said.

  He was already on his horse, and it pranced, seeming just as anxious to leave as he was.

  “Now don’t you worry about anything.” Chester leaned down as far as he could, and I strained on tiptoes to meet him. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

  “I trust you,” I said.

  Then Del gave the slightest nudge, and they were gone.

  I’m not sure how long I stood there, waiting for Phoebe to come out and join me. But when it became obvious she had no intention to, I made my way back to the cabin, back to the safe sound of my father’s snoring, curled up on my cot, buried my face in my arm, and wept.

  Minutes later, I felt her behind me, stretched out and perfectly still. Neither of us slept. How could we, with a room so thick with secrets?

  12

  The sun was just peeking up beyond the camp when Whip climbed up to his seat and took the reins. The four of us found our seats in the stagecoach—Mother and Daddy together, Phoebe and I facing them—and steeled our legs against that first lurch. Chester would normally stretch out his legs as far as he could at this point, lean back, and pull his hat low over his eyes, saying, “Wake me up when we’re not moving.” I never knew how he could sleep through such commotion, but evidently he did, because Phoebe and I would often pass the time saying vile things about him to see if he was really asleep. He never got riled, but every now and then he would betray himself with a slight smile.

  Now, though, everybody was quiet. Anger, worry, betrayal, and disappointment mingled in the space between us and settled on our feet. Every now and then, Phoebe lifted the window shade to look out on the passing landscape.

  “You’re not going to see him,” I told her, leaning close enough to whisper.

  A deep rut bounced my father clear off the seat and onto the floor with his head nestled in Mother’s lap. Normally such a sight would have garnered a barrage of giggles, but today Daddy simply climbed back onto his seat and stared forward. Not at me. Not at anything.

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” he said after a time.
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  “He’s a boy, Robert. Eighteen or not, he’s still a boy. And who wouldn’t pass up a chance to ride wild in this country? I feel blessed that he didn’t ask you to join him.”

  “But why not ask me?”

  “What would you have said?”

  Daddy conceded that point with a nod. “Why not tell me, at least? Belinda?” He was looking straight at me now, and my body went still despite the bouncing of the stagecoach. “You were with him all afternoon. Did he say nothing to you?”

  I felt lucky to have another rough jolt to think of how I would answer, and Daddy repeated the question when we were all once again settled.

  “Yes, Daddy. He told me that he and Del were planning to ride ahead—”

  “And you said nothing?” He rose to his feet and stood in the middle of the floor, holding one of the leather straps suspended from the roof to steady himself. He loomed over me, an unsteady vision as his face pitched closer, then away, his free hand swinging precariously closer to my face with each rocking turn of the wheels. “You sat through our supper, our prayer time, knowing what your brother planned to do, saying nothing?”

  “Robert, please,” Mother said, but he did not acknowledge her.

  “I tried to stop him.” I pushed my spine against the back of my seat.

  “And just how, Belinda? How did you try to stop him?”

  “I—I tried to talk him out of going.”

  “That’s true, Uncle Robert. I heard her last night. Right before they left. She said that you’d be furious and that she wasn’t going to lie about any of this to you. She said she’d never been her brother’s keeper and she wasn’t about to start now.”

  “So,” Daddy said. “did he tell you why he left?”

  “It was a bet,” Phoebe said with such ease I almost believed it. “He and that Del character were arguing over who would reach South Pass first—a stagecoach changing teams, like us, or a single rider resting a single horse. They were trying to figure and talk it out, but then the easiest way to know for sure was to ride it.”

  “Oh, doesn’t that sound just like Chester?” Mother said, and though my father blocked her from my view, I could see her shaking her head in that indulgent way she had in all things concerning my brother.