by Duane Boehm
Gideon cocked his gun and pointed it at DeVille. “Frank, I really did not want any trouble. You should have just left me alone,” he said and drove his boot heel into Sligo’s chest, sending the foreman sprawling to the ground. “That is the second time your thug has threatened me. You had better get it through his head that the next time I will kill him. Now get him and get the hell out of here and leave me alone. Just remember that people that have nothing to live for are the most dangerous kind.”
Frank, still showing no emotion, slowly got off his horse without saying another word. With considerable effort he pulled Sligo to his feet. Hank could barely walk and DeVille had to support him and help shove him up into the saddle. Sligo looked around blankly, apparently oblivious to his whereabouts as Frank took his reins and led him away.
Gideon grabbed the scythe and started swinging it at the brush and grass as if he could cut down every Frank Deville and Hank Sligo that had ever walked the earth. He kept up the furious pace until the cemetery plot was cleared. His arms and especially his recovering shoulder ached and he needed water, but he retrieved the rake and removed all the cuttings without taking a break. While the plot was still not restored to his complete satisfaction, the grave looked much improved and was no longer something for which to be ashamed. Exhausted, he plopped down next to the headstone and rested.
The longer he sat on the ground, the stronger the swell of words building up in him came pushing to escape. He could feel them coming almost as if he had to vomit them. “Momma, I’m so sorry I have been gone all these years and let your grave get like this. I never thought about it going unattended. I don’t know why, but in my mind, your grave was being taken care of, and for that, I am so sorry. I guess you know that Pa is buried in Missouri. He didn’t suffer. It was real quick. I wish I could have sent him home, but it just wasn’t possible. And Momma, I don’t know why I thought going off to war sounded so romantic or why Pa went along with it. He should have known better. I guess he was running from the grief of losing you. We were ranchers, not soldiers. It ruined both of our lives. He was killed and I lost everything I ever cared about – Abby, this place, and any kind of life. Momma, I have to tell you something that I have never told anybody in the world. The only people that know about it are the few that were there, and they swore silence to me. There were four of us soldiers riding through the woods trying to get back to the rest of the troop. We had gotten separated during a skirmish. We were riding along and I heard this crashing noise through the brush. I thought Rebs were attacking us and I fired at the sound, and Momma, I shot a little boy right in the chest. He must have been about eight years old and I guess he was out playing. He was still alive and he was so scared. His eyes were filled with fear. I held his hand and I told him that I was sorry, but there wasn’t anything we could do for him. He lived a few minutes more and then we had to leave him. We left the poor little thing out there all alone. Until this day, I don’t know if his family ever found him. They still may not know what happened to him, and he couldn’t tell us his name. I finished out the war and have been running from it ever since. Momma, I hope you don’t hate me. It was an accident and I have never forgiven myself. Some nights, I have to drink whiskey to get to sleep and forget those eyes looking up at me. Momma, I love you.”
He started to cry. The tears were the first that he had shed since the night he had shot the boy in what seemed like a lifetime ago. It came upon him violently, racking his body with sobs so hard that he had to gulp for air as all the years of repression were released. After the crying stopped, he still could not forgive himself, but some of the burden felt lifted for having shared his guilt even if it had been with a grave.
Chapter 13
Gideon never bothered to tell Ethan about what happened at the grave site, only saying that he got it cleaned up and mentioning the bad condition of the cabin. Ethan and Sarah both noticed that he had little appetite that evening and was unusually quiet and subdued around the family. That night he did not desire his whiskey and went to sleep without envisioning the dying boy’s eyes staring up at him, something that seldom happened.
The next morning, Gideon helped Ethan until lunch and then cleaned up to go to town to get some cartridges. His supply was low from the shootout and Mary was on his mind. There had been very few saloon girls in which he had ever had a decent conversation and fewer still that were pretty to boot. She was intriguing to him for sure.
As Gideon was saddling up Buck, Ethan walked out to the barn and said, “Where are you headed?”
“I need to go to town to get some cartridges,” Gideon answered.
With a trace of skepticism, Ethan said, “I see.”
“What? I about used up all my bullets trying to keep from getting killed. Remember?”
“I have a hunch that is not the bullet that you are worried about. I think you’re wanting to go fire that other one,” Ethan teased.
Grinning at Ethan, Gideon said, “Preacher Oakes, such sinful thoughts coming from your mouth and casting dispersions on my character.”
“Preacher Oakes is still a realist. Don’t go getting shot,” Ethan said as Gideon, still grinning at him like a fool, nodded his head and rode away.
Buck wanted to break into a full gallop and Gideon fought the reins to hold him back. This horse needed to be ridden often and for good distances or he tended to get restless and ornery. Gideon considered him a kindred spirit to love and tolerate because of it.
It would not be long before Buck would be getting all the riding he needed. Gideon knew he was close to being recovered enough to ride all day, and he needed to track down Bug Eye and Pasty before they spent all their money and took off for somewhere else. On one hand, he was growing restless and ready to leave, but on the other he was dreading telling the Oakes family goodbye. He had been friendly with many cowboys over the years, but he now realized that Ethan was the only friend that he had ever had and he was going to miss the camaraderie. He had also grown very fond of Benjamin and Sarah. Benjamin was like a beacon of innocence and goodness that always brightened his day and Sarah had become a surrogate sister that he could confide in. After avoiding Last Stand all these years, he was going to have some regrets about leaving even though he expected that once he crossed that first range, the town would become as distant to him as it always had been.
He tied Buck up in front of the dry goods store and went in. The only person he noticed was the young man behind the counter. “I need three boxes of 44–40 cartridges and a bag of licorice,” Gideon said.
As he was standing waiting to make his purchase, he felt as if he were being watched. He turned to catch Abigail observing him from the corner where the bolts of material were located. She quickly looked down at the material, not offering a greeting.
“I’ll be back to pay for my things in a minute,” Gideon said as he walked towards Abby.
“Hello, Abby.”
“Gideon,” was all she said in reply.
“Can we talk for a minute?” Gideon asked her.
“I’m not sure that there is anything left to say, but suit yourself.”
Standing beside her, he wished that he had the guts to wrap her in his arms and kiss her hard on the mouth. Considering that he had been pretty much emotionless for more years than he cared to remember, he found it almost inconceivable the way feelings bubbled to the surface when he was with her. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that things turned out the way that they did. If I had it to do over again, I never would have joined the war. I expect we would be together now, but I did, and it changed me. I lost myself in that war and I am very well aware of what I lost in the process. I was a foolish young man that went off seeking adventure, and my father went along with it because he was running from the grief of losing Momma,” he said.
Abigail had avoided eye contact as he spoke, preferring to study the pattern of the calico material as she listened. She looked up at him. “Thank you for your honesty, Gideon. That was a long time
ago and things happen for a reason. We were simply not meant to be.”
Gideon fingered his scar and then took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “There is one more thing I wanted to tell you. The time that we, uh, when you gave yourself to me, I know that the other day I made it sound like some meaningless romp in the hay, and I wanted to apologize for that. That was never how I felt about it. I can’t believe that I am talking about this, but I am thirty–seven years old, and I swear to you, that is the only time in my life that it ever meant anything special to me. You are the only one,” he said.
Abby put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes before speaking. “Gideon, again, thank you for your honesty. I do appreciate it, but this is so wrong. I should have never come to see you. The past should be left to gather dust. Please go.”
Gideon stared at her trying to understand what he had done wrong. When he saw her standing in the corner, he had only wanted to go make things right and somehow she was as upset as the other day. His confession was likely the most honest thing that he had ever said in his life and it still seemed to do harm. He knew that she was probably right in that it all should have been avoided and there was not a damn thing that anybody could do about any of it now. “Goodbye, Abby,” he said before returning to pay for his things and walking out of the store.
Abby stayed in the corner looking at material and trying to compose herself. She could not let the clerk see her upset and she just wanted to go home. To go from thinking that she was just another conquest for the only man that she had ever truly loved to knowing that she was the only person that he had ever loved was so sad and pathetic that crying was the only thing left to do. Life was not fair, never had been, and never would be, and her only option was to keep marching on and not look back. It would not beat her.
Gideon placed his purchases in his saddlebags and started walking toward the saloon. As he neared it, he saw Sheriff Fuller walking toward him. “Hey, Gideon, could I have a word with you?” the sheriff asked.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Gideon asked.
“Frank DeVille came by my office yesterday and said that you were trespassing on his property and that when he asked you to leave, you knocked Hank Sligo silly. Is that the truth?” Sheriff Fuller asked.
“Well, there is a lot more to it than that. I was …” Gideon said before the sheriff cut him short.
“Oh, I’m sure there is. That is not the part that upsets me. I have a hunch that Sligo came after you and I wanted to let you know that the next time it happens, to hit the son of a bitch hard enough to kill him,” the sheriff said with a wink.
“You may get your wish yet. You take care, Sheriff,” Gideon said before going into the saloon.
He sat down at the same table as his previous visit and ordered a beer. Still thinking about Abby, he decided that women had to be the most confounding thing that God had ever created. He was not even sure that he wanted to see Mary now. Abigail had certainly put a damper on his good mood. He was still confused on how one time being callous about his past with her and this time being genuinely sincere had both ended up with her upset. It seemed to him that she would have been more appreciative of his honesty. He wondered if maybe she got emotional over knowing that their past was special to him also and that the situation was all hopeless now.
Mary walked over with two beers. “Glad to see you returned, Gideon. Are you going to buy me one so I can sit here and talk to you?” she asked.
He studied her face trying to decide what he wanted to do. Women did not seem to be his strong suit today or any other day for that matter, but he then concluded that maybe the only way was up from here. “By all means, join me,” he said.
“I heard about you saving the dog. One more story to add to that legend,” Mary teased as Gideon helped her into her seat.
“Last Stand never was a place for secrets. I wasn’t about to let him kill that dog.”
“What have you been up to?”
“Helping Ethan around the ranch some and teaching Benjamin how to whittle is about it,” he answered.
“You look healthier than the last time that you were here, but your eyes seem to have more sadness than even before. More troubles?” she asked.
Gideon looked at her and wondered if maybe she was one of those mind readers like sometimes came around in the traveling shows. “No, nothing new,” Gideon said, not bothering to tell her about his encounter with Hank Sligo or Abby.
“Maybe the healthier you feel, the more your troubles bother you then. Your eyes are easy reads,” Mary said.
“Or maybe you aren’t as good at reading men as you think you are. I am a restless soul, I’ll admit to that, but that is about as deep as the well goes,” he said before taking a swig of beer.
“Suit yourself. I’m still sure that I am right though.”
Gideon chuckled. “Of course, you do. You are a woman.”
“When is that restless soul of yours going to need to start wandering again?” Mary asked.
“Pretty soon. I have to go track down the two men that shot me.”
“Aren’t you afraid that they might finish you off the next time?”
“I got careless the last time. I didn’t think they were smart enough to know I was coming after them. I don’t make the same mistake twice,” Gideon said.
“Since you are leaving soon, are you going to take me upstairs this time then?”
“My God, you ask a lot of questions. Drink your beer and rest your tongue.”
She smiled at him and took a sip of beer. “Did you really beat up Frank DeVille when you were younger?”
Gideon closed his eyes and shook his head in dismay. She was starting to annoy him a little now. “Yes, I planned to take you upstairs. I didn’t see what the rush was, but if you are going to ask fifty questions, let’s go now.”
Mary leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t get upset with me. It’s not every day that I get to talk to a legend. Most of these cowboys around here aren’t smart enough to wash off the cow shit, let alone carry on a conversation.”
Gideon tipped up his beer and drained it. Reaching out his hand, she took it and led him upstairs. When he entered her room, he noticed that it was pretty much like every other brothel room that he had ever laid eyes on except that she had fixed it up a little with colorful curtains and a bedspread so that it did not look so bleak. Her attempts at hominess betrayed that she should have been somebody’s wife but was instead masquerading as a whore.
She sat Gideon down on the bed and then climbed behind him and started kneading his shoulders. They felt tense and she worked at getting the knots out of the muscles until his body started to go limp in relaxation. She then started kissing the back of his neck.
“So, do you plan on making a career out of being a saloon girl?” Gideon asked.
“Well, look who’s asking the questions now. I’ll probably marry me a cowboy one of these days when the right one comes along. I get proposed to all the time,” Mary answered.
“For love?”
“I hope it is for love. I loved Eugene, that’s for sure. If I don’t find love, I’ll settle for a good one with a chance to make something of himself,” she said.
Gideon was so relaxed from the massage that he almost felt drunk. “You deserve to find yourself a good cowboy that you love,” he said.
“Well, cowboy, I hope that I do,” she said. “Now about you, what is it that you are running from?”
He was too calm to let her annoy him now, but he was tired of the subject. “What makes you so sure that I am running from anything?”
“Because you don’t ever quite deny it, and like I said, you are an easy read. I promise you that I always keep secrets. Get it off your chest and you will feel better. Maybe if you let it out, it won’t chase you anymore,” Mary said.
Gideon could feel the secret coming up from down in the pit of his stomach. It wanted out and he wanted it out, but it got to his throat and stuck. There
was no way he could tell her what had happened. His secret was an exhausting burden. He rubbed his face and let out a breath. “You are right, of course. I am running from my past, but I can’t tell you about it. I just can’t. It is mine to carry.”
Mary knew that she had lost the battle by the resolve in his voice. From the minute that she met Gideon, she had liked him even if it was obvious that he was a troubled man. Thinking that she could fix broken things was a weakness of hers. She dropped back in the bed and pulled Gideon to her. If she could not talk the pain out of him in order to heal him, she was going to love it out of him for a little while.
She thought that even his lovemaking had a sadness to it as if he could never fully let himself enjoy the moment. After they were finished, she rolled onto her side and studied his face. She could tell that she had succeeded in making the hurt go away for the time being. The lines around his eyes and brow were so relaxed that he looked like a boy. She could not help herself from studying human nature. Mary had come to realize that good men always looked at peace afterward as if they had excised their demons for a little while, and bad men appeared as if the act was one more conquest in their plan to control everything in their power.
Mary kissed the back of his hand and then held it in both of hers. “Gideon, did you ever think about how all your running doesn’t change anything or fix it? Wasting your life away won’t change the past. It just makes it more of a tragedy.”
Gideon smiled sadly at her. “I know all those things are true, but I just can’t stop moving. It’s like it catches me and gets worse whenever I stay anywhere too long. I guess it’s just how I’m made,” he said.
Mary dropped onto her back and pressed his hand into her breasts. She knew then that she had fallen in love with Gideon Johann, not the legend, but the troubled man that she could never have or heal.
