Archer's Return
Page 21
The sun had long set before he returned to the camp to find the others both asleep, the fire slowly collapsing on itself and he sat cross-legged in front of the embers and stretched out his hands to the gentle warmth. He was chilled to the bone and shivering and he reached for his blanket, wrapping it round him and huddling closer, but it made no difference and he sat there in silence, wondering where he might find peace. Nothing made sense any more.
***
He was awake at sunrise, worn and jaded after a night spent thinking.
Duane crawled from the warmth of his bed and went into the trees to relieve himself before coming back. “You were a long while last night.”
“Just needed some time alone.” He added more wood to the fire and shuffled off his blanket. “Nothing to worry about, but I won’t be riding back with you today.”
‘What’s happened? Is it Meg? Is she –?”
“She’s fine. Should be fit to ride in a day or two, but that’s not why I’m staying here.”
“Are you…?”
He glanced over to where Walker was sleeping, but there was no sign of the man waking. Nevertheless, he kept his voice low. “No questions. I need you to do something for me, that’s all. And no need to tell anyone else either. This is just between you and me, understand?”
The boy nodded, but even so, Archer could see the concern in his face. “Whatever you say. You can trust me.”
And he could. Duane had proved himself more than once over the last weeks and it would be hard to leave the boy, having promised to be his guardian. It was Archer who could not be trusted now. “I need you to ride to the ranch and tell Faith where I am, then ask her for the leather pouch I keep in the safe. And tomorrow, get Bear and bring him and the pouch back here, first thing. Can you do that?”
“I can. But –?”
“No. No questions. Don’t say anything to Walker either. This is between you and me.”
“When do you want me to leave? Now?”
He shook his head. “Have your breakfast first, there’s no need to rush, you’ve earned an easy day.”
“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
He could see the fear in the boy’s eyes. “I told you, there’s nothing wrong. I just…” Another shake of his head. “It was hard – what happened and seeing you there – and I need some time by myself, that’s all. I’ll be alright.”
Duane was thinking, lower lip held between his teeth as he concentrated. Still a young boy, despite the man’s voice and the beard developing on chin and upper lip. Archer would miss his company. Perhaps he could write later, when things had settled and he had found somewhere else. If it came to it, he could go back to George and Martha’s, but that was no solution. There might be a town somewhere looking for a lawman, or he could hire himself out in Vancross as a trail master.
“You want me to leave Meg here?”
“And Bran and the pinto.” He would sell Mason’s horse later on but, until he was sure of Meg’s recovery, he would need a saddle horse. Bran was a different matter. The packhorse would make his travels easier and be company for the mare. He had no idea how Bear would take to having another horse along, but they’d deal with that when the time came. “No more questions. Make some coffee; I’m going to check the horses.”
He left the lad boiling water in the kettle and putting the beans to cook with a spoonful of molasses and some salt pork. They would have a hearty breakfast once Walker was awake, and the remains would see him through until tomorrow.
Meg and the horses were content with fresh grass and clean water, though he went to the orchard and gathered a dozen or so windfalls for them. A quick check of hooves and a lengthier inspection of Meg’s grazes, and then Duane called him over and he went over to take the hot brew and sit close enough to the fire so he could stir the beans.
Chapter 23
“I’ll be waiting, tomorrow.” Archer held Rusty’s bridle. “And remember what I asked you to bring.”
Duane leaned over. “I’ll make sure. What do I tell Cooper and the others?”
“Tell them I have things need doing and Faith knows where I am. That’s all they need to know.” He let go of the bridle and stepped back. “I’m trusting you, boy. And you’ve not let me down once.”
“Sir.”
He got a rough salute from the boy and then the sorrel was moving away, and Walker’s horse moved to take its place, the young man looking at him with concern.
“I’m not going to ask. You’d tell me if you wanted me to know.”
“I would, and you don’t need to.” Archer lowered his voice. “Don’t say anything to the boy, but I’m probably not coming back. In a day or so I’ll head north again to find work.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. But thanks for….” He held out his hand. Walker’s grip was stronger than he expected. “Take care of your sister.” There was no salute this time, just a nod of what could have been sympathy and he turned and headed back to where the remains of their breakfast waited.
The cabin had everything he needed for the next few weeks; it was just a matter of getting everything into Bran’s panniers ready for tomorrow and he took the horses to the small corral and gave them a feed of sweet hay from the lean-to. The rest of the day stretched out ahead of him and he busied himself heating a can of water on the camp fire before he carried it to the cabin and poured it into the basin on the washstand.
She had propped an old mirror against the wall and he lathered the soap with his shaving brush and dabbed foam over cheeks and throat. The first scrape of steel, the rasp of the blade through the roughness of his beard. He kept his eyes downcast, unable to bear the look in his eyes, only taking quick glances to make sure the blade was doing its work. Army living had taught him to shave with a tiny mirror, or even no mirror at all.
He threw the dirty water away and rinsed out the bowl, picked a shirt from the pile, and socks and pants and carried everything out of the cabin to where the camp fire still smouldered. It was no effort to build the fire up again and put more water to heat and then he stripped off coat and pants and shirt and found the soap. A thorough cleaning, washing dirt and dried blood from limbs and torso. It took two washes before he was ready to pull on the clean clothes.
He ate beans at midday, scooping them cold from the pot and leaving enough for supper and breakfast tomorrow. Meg and the other horses were sheltering in the shade, and he refilled the hay nets, picked a last handful of cherries and ate those before pushing the stones deep into soft soil.
Someone had pruned the trees, cutting away old wood and opening the branches to sunlight. A good job, the trees looking stronger and healthier without the dead branches. It didn’t take much effort to bring the land back to life after years of neglect. He found a pink apple and bit into it, the flesh crisp and sweet, and he picked more to take with him, putting them in the cabin to pack later, along with the rest of his things.
He was brushing the worst of the mud and tangles from the pinto’s tail when the thud of hoof beats disturbed the silence and he dropped the brush and hurried to the camp, concealing himself behind a thicket of mesquite bushes where he would be able to see rider and horse as they passed.
Of all the things he had expected to see, he had not anticipated Faith, riding Copper, the young horse she’d taken to using in the last months. He watched as she pulled the gelding to a halt and slid from the saddle, heedless of the reins falling. There was no sign of Bear or the leather pouch and he crouched down, unwilling to face her anger.
“Sam!” Her voice shattered the silence. “Sam Archer, come here right now.”
If she continued calling, the horse would likely get spooked. He cursed as branches snagged his shirt.
“Faith.” He stood there, hands by his sides, not knowing what to do or say.
She flung herself at him, pulling him close, her arms tight round him. “Why didn’t you come home? Duane wouldn’t tell me anything, just that you were here and I should
come straight away.” Her voice hot and desperate, her body shaking as if she was about to fall.
Duane, forever sticking his neck in where it wasn’t wanted. He closed his eyes. “I saw the cabin, and my clothes and my razor… And in Harville you’d said I didn’t need you and I thought…” He swallowed. Had he been wrong?
“You thought… Oh no. Never.” A look of horror on her face, one hand pressed to her mouth in shock. “I would never do that, Sam. I got the cabin ready for us. Our own space, away from the ranch and the men and your work; somewhere we can go without being disturbed.” She looked close to tears. “My things are still at the ranch; I was just waiting for you to come home. And when Duane said you were here, I couldn’t understand why. And you look…” She pulled away from him, hands clinging to his shoulders as if she was afraid he might leave her right there and then. One hand reached out, fingers brushing over the scrapes on his cheek and touching his lips. “You’re hurt. What happened? Who did this?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Later, maybe. I’m here and that’s all that matters.” He cupped her face in his hands, a long lingering kiss, her lips welcoming his, her arms wrapping round him until he pulled away and let his fingers caress her face. “I’ll always want you, Faith. Always. Whatever happens.” He had been more than foolish. He had risked everything: his dreams, his future, his family. “And I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
Copper was lipping at the grass and Archer took hold of his reins and settled the horse in the corral with the others. He would be content there for a few hours. Then he led his wife into the small cabin with its neat curtains and rag rug and a bed big enough for two, and he closed the door and took her in his arms again.
Afterword
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this book and if so, please consider leaving a review. It would be very much appreciated. Please check my website leonagrace.net
and my Goodreads profile for more information about upcoming books.
Leona Grace
Sam Archer’s adventures continue in:
Archer’s Revenge (The Sam Archer Series - Book 3)
Also by Leona Grace
The Lawman Ethan Cobb Trilogy
Harlan’s Crossing
Harlan’s Point
Harlan’s Pass
The Housekeeper
Undercover
Promises
Abandoned