Sweetwater

by Dorothy Garlock

  Jenny glanced quickly at Travor and saw that his face was grim and his dark eyes were fastened on the preacher’s pleasantly smiling face. Longfellow, acting as though he was unaware of the scrutiny, turned to Jenny without answering.

  “Thank you, my dear.” He accepted a dipper of water. “I would like to see your school.”

  “The inside of the school and the supplies were destroyed when I got here. It’s taken me all this time to get the schoolhouse ready, but the students will be arriving soon.”

  Anxious to get the preacher away from Travor and the bunkhouse where Trell lay, Jenny led the way up the path to the school. Before they reached it, Whit came out the door, mounted his pony and rode away.

  “Do you let the Indians roam free in and out of the school?”

  “Of course. It’s their school. That was Whit Whitaker. His father donated the school and the money to supply a teacher. He has more right here than any of us.”

  “He’s a breed, ma’am. Breeds are not recognized as legitimate heirs.”

  “Now isn’t that strange.” Jenny cocked her head to one side, and became the personification of puzzlement. “Offspring of Frenchmen are legitimate heirs, as are Mexican and German.”

  It clearly required all Jenny’s self-restraint to keep the sneer out of her voice. She kept in mind Ike’s warning that it was possible that the preacher was playing the tune Havelshell was dancing to. Something about him did not ring true to her either. She decided to be cautious.

  Travor waited until Jenny and Longfellow disappeared into the school before he went back to chopping wood. The preacher’s name had struck a chord in his memory. He had thrown out the information about Charlie’s helping to build the Federal prison to test the man’s reaction. He’d heard the name Longfellow mentioned somewhere and in a way unconnected to the poet. This Longfellow was smooth to a fault, hadn’t batted an eyelash. Too nice, too glib. Travor didn’t trust him.

  He suddenly remembered the man who had ridden in with the preacher. He looked around and saw his horse tied to a corral pole and the saddle empty. Moving quickly, Travor sank the axe blade into a stump and went to look for him, fearing that he would discover Trell in the bunkhouse. He walked to the back of the shed where Colleen and Ike were sharpening the scythe and grass-cutting knives on a grindstone. Before he turned the corner, he heard Colleen’s loud, angry voice. He eased to the corner and waited to see what was going on before he barged in.

  “Ya heard me, unless yo’re deaf as well as dumb as a doorknob.”

  “What’d ya say, honeybunch?”

  “I said—get the hell away from here. Ya ain’t welcome.”

  “Sure I am, pretty gal. Ya jist ain’t knowin’ it yet.”

  “Yo’re about as welcome as a nest of hornets in an outhouse.”

  “Come on. ’Fess up. Ya’ve been wishin’ I’d come back.”

  “Maybe I’ve been needin’ another laugh. Last time I saw ya, ya was flat on yore back in the dirt and I was laughin’ my head off.”

  “Yeah.” Frank laughed, showing the wide space between his front teeth. “Ya bested me that time. Next time ya’ll be lyin’ flat on yore back … and I’ll be doin’ somethin’ ’sides laughin’.” He lifted his heavy eyebrows suggestively.

  Travor stepped around the corner and hit him square in the mouth. Frank backtracked a few steps before he sprawled on the ground. His hat bounced off his head, rolled under the corral fence and stopped against a pile of cow droppings.

  “You’ll be the one stretched out if you as much as look at her crossways,” Travor said, looking down at him as if he were something that smelled exceedingly bad. “When you wake up, you’ll be lookin’ for your teeth and trying to unscramble your brain.”

  “What’d you do that for,” Colleen yelled. “I can fight my own battles, kill my own snakes.”

  “Yo’re McCall—” Frank got to his feet, dabbing his split lips with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “And you’re a smart-mouthed sonofabitch. That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

  “Lady?” Frank snorted.

  Travor hit him again. Frank staggered back against the pole corral.

  “Better call it quits, cowboy, and apologize to the lady. I can hurt you.”

  Travor stood calmly rewrapping the neckerchief around his knuckles. He had known as soon as he heard Colleen’s voice that he was going to hit someone and had prepared. He had kept himself alive in many a tight situation by taking care of his gun hand. He trained his eyes on the man he’d just knocked off his feet, despite an angry hiss that came from Colleen.

  “This … skirt yores?” Frank jerked his head toward Colleen.

  “I don’t like the way you put it, but, yes, the lady’s mine.”

  “I ain’t no such thin’,” Colleen yelled.

  “Hush up, honey. It’s goin’ to get out sooner or later. It might as well be this loudmouth that spreads the news.”

  “Don’t … be callin’ me that, you slack-jawed, pig-ugly bunghead!”

  “Pretty when she gets her wind up, ain’t she?” Travor smiled at her proudly.

  “Don’t sound to me like she’s yore girl,” Frank mumbled, his lips swelling and still bleeding.

  “She is. After she’s halter-broke, she’ll do just fine.”

  Frank leaned between the rails, scooped his hat up off the ground and slammed it down on his head.

  “Yo’re welcome to ’er, mister. Tamin’ her’ll be ’bout as easy as stretching a skeeter’s ass over a rain barrel.” He turned to leave.

  “Hold on. I didn’t hear you apologize to the lady.”

  “Sorry,” Frank mumbled and beat a hasty retreat.

  “Hee, hee, hee—” Ike laughed as Frank walked away.

  “What’er you laughin’ for, ya old … buzzard?” Colleen’s eyes glittered with the light of battle.

  “You two remind me of a couple wildcats with one tree ’tween ’em.”

  “—And ya remind me of an … old goat!”

  “Now, now, sweetheart.” Travor put his hand on her arm. “Don’t take your mad out on Ike. Take it out on me.”

  “Ya … shut up, ya … struttin’ rooster!” She twisted under his clamped hand, jerked free and angrily stomped away.

  Travor turned to see that Ike’s weathered face was stiff.

  “I ain’t figgerin’ ya to be a man who’d trifle with a sweet little gal like Colleen.”

  “You figgered right, old man.”

  “The little gal’s pure hickory. Straight as a string. I ain’t standin’ by and seein’ a good woman’s name dragged in the mud ’cause a man’s got it in mind t’pleasure hisself.”

  Ike paused and waited for some response from the still-faced man and finally it came.

  “If you’ve got more to say, say it.”

  “The little gal is workin’ her tail off to make a place for her and her granny. If yore intentions t’ords her ain’t on the up ’n up, ya better hightail it outta here. The gal’s been caught in a gully-washer. Her pa was killed and her home burned. She’s come through it with a scar or two. I ain’t standin’ by and seein’ her get more. I be killin’ ya if I hafta.” Ike finished with a wintry smile.

  Travor had listened carefully to what the old man was saying. He cocked his head to one side, as if seeing him for the first time.

  “You’d do it. Or at least, you’d try.”

  “There’d be no tryin’, boy. I’ll do it, and ya’d more’n likely never know what hit ya. I won’t be givin’ ya no chance at me. When somethin’ needs killin’, I kill it. It makes me no never mind how.”

  Travor leaned forward and tapped Ike’s chest with a forefinger.

  “It’s no business of yours, old man, but I’ll tell you so you don’t get your bowels in an uproar. I’m going to marry that girl and take care of her, and her granny, too, for as long as the old lady’s around.”

  “It don’t ‘pear she wants ya. And if she don’t … back off.”

  “We go
t started off on the wrong foot, but she’ll come around. Right now she’s figgerin’ on how to back down and save face.”

  “Ya better be right, boyo.”

  Ike picked up the scythe and began to sharpen it. Travor returned to the woodpile with a lot on his mind.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “I’ve got to get out of this bed.”

  “What’s the hurry?” Jenny had brought Trell his plate of food. Cassandra had wanted to bring it, but Jenny was too eager to wait until evening to see him. Now she sat quietly by as he ate.

  “That’s what Travor said. He told me how lucky I was to have two pretty women to wait on me.”

  “Travor is a blatant flirt and full of Irish blarney.”

  “But he’s right about you being pretty.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McCall.” Pleasure lighted Jenny’s eyes and brought a slight blush to her cheeks. “You’d better stop talking and finish eating if you want to get out of that bed.”

  “I’m trying to eat slow because you’ll leave when I finish.”

  “I won’t leave.”

  “Thanks for the nightshirt. I’ve never had one before.”

  “Cass and I thought it would be comfortable.”

  There was an uneasy silence, during which time Trell ate the last bite of food on the plate, eating slowly not only because he wanted her to stay but also because of his sore jaws. Jenny placed the empty dish on the washstand and returned to the chair beside the bed.

  “Do you have a mirror?” he asked quietly. “I’d like to see what I look like.”

  “I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen yourself since the … accident. I’ll get one.”

  She returned from the house minutes later and handed him the mirror. He looked at his face for several minutes, then placed the mirror on the bed.

  “Folks won’t be confused now about which is me and which is Trav. I’ll be the scar-faced McCall.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No one wants their face tore up.”

  Jenny leaned forward and took his hand in both of hers.

  “I wish the scar wasn’t there, but only because of the pain you endured. I know the man behind the face. What is on the outside of him isn’t all that important to me.”

  “Jenny, Jenny—you may think so now, but later—” His voice trailed as his eyes looked deeply into hers.

  “I’m not put off by the scar on your face.”

  “It’ll be there for as long as I live.”

  Jenny then did something that surprised her so completely that she was to wonder about it for months, years. Forgetting her resolve to be less forward, she leaned over him and kissed him gently on the lips.

  When he caught his breath, he didn’t even feel the pain from his broken ribs. It was over all too quickly. She moved her head back. He could still taste her lips, smell her warm breath.

  “I’ve got nothing to offer a woman like you,” he whispered brokenly. “You should live in a fine house and do all the things a refined lady does—”

  “Such as?”

  “You know what I mean,” he said harshly. “All I have is half a ranch, a few horses and a few cows.”

  “I’m responsible for my two young sisters, I’m committed to the Indian school and helping Whit go to college. I’m also in deep conflict with the Indian agent … and there’s more. I’m no prize, Trell.”

  “You are to me. The only education I’ve had is what I learned after I was fourteen years old.”

  “I’ve known educated men who were dumb as stumps. You’re a good man, thoughtful and capable. I knew that the first day when you pitched right in to help me. And you were kind to a little girl who has suffered a terrible blow to her self-esteem this past year. With your kindness you won her over, which was not easy to do.”

  “Jenny, listen,” he said urgently. “Trav and I had another brother, beside Pack, who turned outlaw and was killed by another outlaw. Our father drank and almost gambled away the inheritance of his niece. Thank God she came to Laramie before it was all gone. My background is that of poor Irish—”

  “Is that all?”

  “No. I’m not only poor as Job’s turkey, now I’ve got a face that will scare children.” His voice was so low that she could hardly hear. “I won’t burden you with it. I want you to know that I’ll stand by you and see to it that you’re left alone here.”

  “Burden me? Don’t make excuses, Trell. I realize that I’m not suitable for life on a ranch. Colleen would be a far better helpmate.”

  “Colleen is a fine girl and I’ll welcome her to the family when Trav marries her.”

  “That isn’t likely to happen. She doesn’t even like him.”

  “Trav is in love with her. He’ll win her over.”

  “Trell, I came to Wyoming because I had to come. I want to tell you why I left the security of family and friends to come here with my two sisters.”

  “I saw you and the girls get off the stage that day and I thought about you all the way home.”

  “Sweetwater, Stoney Creek, the school—none of it was up to my expectations. Things only started going right when you came and helped me put out the fire.”

  “I fell in love with you that day.” His voice was so low that she could hardly hear. There was so much love and concern in his eyes that she would have known what he said if she hadn’t heard.

  “Trell! My heart’s been aflutter over you for weeks.”

  “You’re not just saying … that—?”

  “No, no, my sweet man! But I want to tell you why the girls and I came here. There’s something you need to know about me, Trell. If I should leave the territory, I would be arrested for kidnapping.”

  For the next half hour Jenny leaned close to the man on the bed and told him of her life in Allentown and all the events leading up to her taking the girls and fleeing to Wyoming Territory.

  “That sonofabi—”

  “It’s all right. Say it. I’ve called Charles that many times in my thoughts. He will never get his hands on the girls again. I think … I really think I would kill him first.”

  “You wouldn’t have to, honey. You’ve got me and Trav. We’ll take care of it, if it comes to that. I wish I wasn’t in this damn bed!”

  “What would you do?”

  “I’d hold you in my arms and kiss you.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Come closer,” he whispered.

  Trell put his free hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her face down to his. His lips were warm and firm. He kissed her deeply and sweetly, careful not to smear her with the salve on his cheek. Jenny closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sweetness of his kiss.

  Dear and generous God, I thank you for bringing this wonderful man into my life. I will love him, respect him, and cherish him for as long as I live.

  When she lifted her head, she looked down at Trell with eyes shining with love. Gentle fingers stroked the hair at his temple.

  “It broke my heart to think of you lying out there alone and hurt. If you hadn’t come … back—” Her voice broke.

  “But I did, my love. I don’t have much, Jenny, but it’s yours.”

  “No one has ever offered me so much. I’m proud to accept it and you. Everything I have will be yours. We’ll share the good and the bad. Oh, Trell. I wish I could kiss all the hurt places on your dear face and they would be well. I’ve never been in love before. I had a few schoolgirl crushes that lasted a week or two. It’s a grand feeling to know that a wonderful man loves me and that I love him.”

  “Do you really love me? It’s like reaching for a star and suddenly you have it in your hand. I’ll spend my life taking care of you and the girls if you let me.”

  Trell already knew many of the things that had happened since she arrived. Jenny had told him about slapping the agent, and about today’s visit from the Reverend Longfellow.

  “Uncle Noah would say that the preacher talked out of both sides of his mouth. Wh
it said he talked with a forked tongue. I had the feeling he was here to see what he could find out. He said he just dropped by on his way to the Agency store. Wouldn’t you think he would have mentioned that he was going to visit his daughter?”

  “He didn’t?”

  “No. He told me a pitiful story about the children in Sweetwater who wanted to go to school, but had no teacher. Mr. Havelshell had already offered me the job. Longfellow didn’t care whether or not the Indian children had a teacher. My dear, they may learn a word or two, but what good will it do? They will never let go of their savage ways.” She mimicked the preacher’s soft voice.

  “And, Trell, he thought Whit had no right to anything of his father’s because he was a half-breed bastard. I told him that Mr. Whitaker and Whit’s mother were married according to Shoshoni customs. He actually laughed and shook his head in such a patronizing way that I wanted to hit him.”

  “Don’t get upset, sweetheart. Most of the people who came to settle the West feel like that about the Indians. It’ll take years for them to realize that this was their land, and their customs are as old or older than some of ours.”

  “Another reason that I love you is that we think alike. Hurry and get well,” she whispered close to his ear.

  “I’d be up tomorrow if I had a crutch.”

  “I asked Mr. McGriff to bring a pair when he comes back next week. But you shouldn’t get on your feet too soon.”

  “It was hard to stay in here today when the preacher came. I didn’t know what was happening or if you needed me.”

  “Your brother represented you very well. I don’t think you’ll be able to count the preacher as a close friend.”

  “Trav has a way of rubbing folks the wrong way.”

  “Did Ike tell you that Trav knocked Frank Wilson off his feet?” Jenny chuckled softly.

  “They don’t come too big for Trav to take on. Wilson was lucky he didn’t loose some teeth.”

  “Cassandra was put out because she didn’t see Trav do it.”

  “She told me about the dart and the slingshot.” Trell smiled with one side of his mouth. “She had intended it for Havelshell’s horse.”

  “Cassandra is a strong-willed little girl. She doesn’t hesitate to take matters into her own hands.”