Out of Innocence

by Adelaide McLeod

  Hank started to dump the body, and Belle tugged at his sleeve. “Before we put this sorrowful man’s body to rest, Hank, do we need to say a prayer."

  Hank nodded.

  “Though you have led a terrible life, Roy Blackwell,” Belle said, “and left untold misery in your wake, may God have mercy on your soul and forgive ye for your foul deeds and take you to eternal rest. Amen.”

  Hank walked further into the river, and tipped the wheelbarrow over and the body of Roy Blackwell disappeared in the darkness.

  “Belle, there’s no other answer. I have to leave. Staying wouldn’t be helping you at all, it would just make things worse. Knowing what we do about Blackwell’s father paying off the judge, it’s pretty certain I wouldn’t get a fair shake.”

  On the porch steps, they whispered in the darkness and clung to each other until hints of morning lit the eastern sky. Hank got to his feet and went off to the bunkhouse to pack his grip. Belle changed into a fresh waist, brushed her hair and started the coffee. She could see Hannah playing out in the creek. She watched as Hank saddled Rosie and led her up the hill. She’d packed a lunch for him; no telling where he’d be able to stop. He was running away as if he were a criminal, when all he was guilty of was protecting her. Hank looked at her with a longing in his eyes that pierced her heart. “Some day, somehow. Promise you’ll wait for me,” he whispered.

  “Forever, if I must,” Belle sighed.

  He mounted Rosie and rode out of Belle’s life. This might be the last she’d ever see of her Hank Gallagher. Her heart went down that road with him. It was his.

  Chapter Twenty

  Belle and Hannah went out into the garden. Hard work would keep her from thinking too much. Patches of mist above the meadow filtered the morning sun turning it translucent apricot. If she could bring herself to a point of exhaustion, maybe she could sleep. She went after the weeds with vengeance. With every thrust of her hoe she was battling the forces of fear. How she hated Blackwell--God rest his soul. As sure as the sun would rise tomorrow, there were evil forces that had spirited Hank Gallagher away from her and she was helpless to do anything about it. She was bad blood.

  Oh, dear God, Sheriff Allen was riding up the lane. What did he know? Had Blackwell’s body washed ashore in Horseshoe Bend? “Hannah, go down and feed the chickens and stay down there until the sheriff is gone.” Belle gave her a little shove to get her moving.

  The sheriff was somber as he dismounted and waved at Belle. As they exchanged greetings a flood of anxiety pulsed through her. For Hank’s sake, she must be believable-- Hank’s life was at stake. Trying to smile, she took a deep breath. “I’ve got an apple cobbler in the kitchen. Could I make you some coffee to wash it down?”

  “I don’t like to trouble you, but yes, I’d like that. You here alone?”

  “There’s just Hannah and me. T.J. is down at MacGregor’s to help break some wild mustangs.”

  “Understand that Hank Gallagher has been lodging in your bunkhouse. “

  “That’s right but he’s not here now,” Belle said in her effort to sound casual.

  She led the sheriff into the kitchen. Before he sat, the sheriff surveyed the kitchen, the pantry, and then, he walked into the parlor and peeked into the bedrooms. “Where is Hank Gallagher?”

  “I don’t know. He comes and goes as he pleases. Have you been over to the road construction site?”

  “Yah, he’s not there.”

  Belle tried to change the subject. “How is Mrs. Allen? I didn’t see her at Grange last Tuesday. Is she well?”

  “Oh, yes, Birdy’s fine.” Sheriff Allen stopped talking long enough to eat the cobbler Belle had put in front of him.

  Belle poured a cup of coffee and pushed it across the oil cloth. “Birdy went down to Parma to visit her sister,” he said.

  Belle drank her coffee convinced that things had gone well. But then the sheriff said, “You say you don’t know Roy Blackwell?”

  “I told you yesterday, I don’t know him. I’ve seen him a couple of times but I don’t know him at all.” Belle looked the sheriff in the eye.

  “I believe you. But Blackwell has turned up missing. His pa said he didn’t come home last night. Blackwell’s more trouble than he’s worth but I’m sworn to protect him just like anyone else.” The sheriff was on his feet. “Belle, if anything has happened to Blackwell, when Hank shows up, I’ll have to arrest him.”

  “Surely everything’s all right. You won’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t know. Something mighty fishy is going on.” The sheriff pushed his way through the screen door, walked up to the bunk house. After a few minutes, he rode off.

  The phone rang in the parlor. It was Colleen on the other end just wanting to chat. “Everything’s just fine here,” Belle lied. She wished she could confide in Colleen; she was trustworthy, but maybe Ada Pritchard was listening in.

  “Something’s wrong, Belle. I can hear it in your voice,” Colleen said.

  “Maybe I’ll drop by to see you. Yes. As soon as I can get away I’ll drive over.”

  “You and Hannah come for dinner.”

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Belle turned to see Hannah standing in the doorway. ‘‘Are we in trouble, Ma?”

  “Things are all right, Hannah. How would you like to take a drive over to O’Donnells?”

  “In the Tin Lizzy?”

  “Yes. Go clean up and we’ll go.” Belle went into her bedroom and changed her dress.

  “That’s the most bizarre story I’ve ever heard, Belle.” Colleen whispered. “You actually dumped Blackwell’s body in the river?” Colleen covered her mouth with both hands.

  “We didn’t know what else to do.”

  "After all these years, the right man comes along and then this happens. You were so happy. Frankly, I can see why. Hank Gallagher is quite a catch,” Colleen said.

  “I’m desperately in love, for the first time in my life. He’s more than I dared hope for. What will become of him?” Belle felt tears welling in her eyes and got to her feet to compose herself.

  “Maybe it would have been better if you’d called the sheriff last night and told the whole story. A jury might have believed the truth.”

  “But what if they didn’t? We just couldn’t risk it. Blackwell’s father seems to have a lot of clout. John Larkin says that’s why Roy isn’t locked up,” Belle said.

  “You shouldn’t go back home, Belle. You can stay here with us, you and Hannah.”

  “No. Things need to look as normal as possible over there. I just needed to tell someone--I was feeling all alone. I know I don’t have to tell you not to breathe a word of this to anyone. There’s a lot at stake here.”

  “You have my word. I won’t even tell Harold if you don’t want me to. “

  “For right now, please keep it to yourself. Maybe there’ll be a time that I’ll want Harold to know. I know what he thought of Blackwell. But it would be a disaster if the wrong people got wind of this.”

  “Have you still got a gun, Belle?”

  “Yes, Harlow’s Winchester and I intend to keep it close. Thank you again for dinner. It was marvelous.” Belle walked down the path toward her car.

  “I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Colleen said.

  “Hannah! Come on now. It’s time we were heading home.”

  The Model T Ford crossed the river and wound around Riemers’ place. Belle felt weak and dizzy. It has been too many hours since she’d slept.

  “What’s the matter, Ma? Are you sick? Do you miss Hank?” Hannah asked.

  “I am a little. I’ll be all right in a minute, Pet. Yes, I miss Hank with all my heart. But the day will come when he’ll be back with us. I know it.” She drove down into the ranch, but something was wrong . . . she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. It was gnawing at her, telling her to leave.

  She turned the motor off and stepped down on the running board, Hannah by her side. “Hannah, I need to lie down. Can you get yo
ur own dinner? There’s milk, bread and cheese and a bowl of cherries on the table.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Ma. I’ll be fine. You go rest a little.”

  Belle closed her eyes, but thoughts kept spinning in her head. She felt out of control, helpless. She had to get a grip on herself. Where was Hank by now and what was he doing?

  “Ma, Ma.” Hannah was standing over her.

  “Oh, just let me rest a minute, Pet,” Belle complained.

  "All the bread is gone, and the cheese and the cherry pie that were in the keep. It’s all gone, Ma.”

  Belle got to her feet and struggled to the kitchen. Hannah was right. The bread and cheese were missing and so was the pie. Evidently, the thief didn’t like fresh cherries. They were still in the bowl on the table. She ran back to the pantry to look for the Winchester. Fortunately, she had poked it behind the cupboard where it was out of sight. It was still there. Maybe she should call the sheriff. But she really didn’t want him poking around again. She bolted the doors.

  “I’ll make some oatmeal, Hannah. That will stick to our bones,” Belle said.

  In desperation she wound the crank on the hoop and holler line, and Harold O’Donnell’s voice came over the telephone. “Harold, I need your help. Ask Colleen to tell you about our conversation this afternoon. “

  “Is that you on the phone, Belle? What’s going on?” Ada Pritchard asked.

  “I’ll talk to Colleen,” Harold said ignoring the intrusion. “Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye Ada,” Belle said and hung up the phone.

  Hannah tugged at Belle’s skirt. “Ma, I’m scared. I wish Hank was here."

  “I do too, but everything will be all right, lass. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Belle knew she was trying to convince herself as much as she was Hannah. “Whoever it was that took the food has gone on his way. Likely just some gypsies. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll wind up the Edison and you can dance for me.”

  “Not now, Ma. I can’t dance now.”

  Suddenly, Belle felt dizzy again. “I’m dead on my feet, Hannah. I have to lie down. Let’s call it a day. You can sleep with me tonight.” No sooner had they crawled into bed than the phone rang. On her feet, Belle leaned against the parlor wall as she heard Colleen’s voice in the receiver.

  “Harold is on his way over. He just wanted me to call so you’d know he’ll be riding in.”

  “I’m sorry to put him to this fuss, but I’m so glad he’s coming.” Belle stood at the window and waited in the darkness with the Winchester in her hand. It seemed like forever before Harold finally rode into the ranch. They sat in the parlor and talked the situation over and Harold decided the most important thing was for Belle to get some sleep. There wasn’t much he could do until daybreak anyway. And even then, he wasn’t sure what. So he bedded down on the fainting couch with his gun across his chest while Belle cuddled Hannah against her as they both fell into a fitful sleep in the next room.

  At the kitchen table the next morning, Belle said, “This has been a nightmare. I miss Hank so much.”

  “Of course it has, Belle. Maybe you should leave the ranch for a while. Go down to Boise for a few days.”

  “That would set tongues wagging and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  “I can’t imagine a jury convicting Hank of murder. Not a guy like Hank. The evidence would be against him, though. I guess it’s a good thing he left. Well, I’ll take a ride around the ranch and see if I can turn up anything.” Harold got to his feet and was out the door. Hannah was still asleep. Belle curled up in the bed beside her. Never in her life had she felt so out of control, so vulnerable. It was more than the urisk playing hobgoblin tricks on her. There was a menacing shadow that hung over the ranch. It was Blackwell’s restless spirit haunting the place of his violent death--she could feel it. It would be easy to succumb to it and leave the ranch. Her other choice was to stand her ground and put her fear aside. No, that wasn’t her other choice--it was her only choice. No one was going to frighten her into leaving her home. She’d keep the Winchester close by. She’d tough it out. Harold, back from his scouting trip, told Belle that someone had set a campfire up on the ridge above the ranch. The coals were still warm when he found it. “There is someone out there, maybe just a gypsy,” he said. “Whoever it is has a horse that needs shoeing. But I didn’t actually see anyone. By the way, Belle, have you noticed, one of your border collies is ailing?”

  “It’s Whiskey. He’s favoring his side like he’d been kicked. Blackwell was capable of that. He did it once before. I’ll be all right now. You go on home. It was just sleep I needed. You and Colleen are the best neighbors anyone could ever have. Don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come. I hate imposing.”

  “No imposition. I’ll come back any time you feel like you need me,” Harold said.

  “Harold. I thank you with all my heart.”

  Troubles seemed to come in bunches. Before the day warmed, Whiskey breathed his last breath as he died in Belle’s arms.

  Poor Brandy whimpered. With plaintive eyes, he poked Whiskey with his nose as though he was trying to wake him up. Belle and Hannah wrapped Whiskey’s body in a well-worn blanket and carried him to the giant ponderosa where the wild river raged below. They buried him by a big rock and Hannah asked, “Do dogs have souls, Ma?”

  “I like to think so. If any animal has a soul, then Whiskey surely does. Losing him is losing a dear and faithful friend.”

  Belle thought she could almost see tears in Brandy’s eyes as she talked to him. “Poor Brandy,” Belle knelt down and stroked him tenderly, “Poor, poor Brandy, you have lost your life’s companion just as I have. There’s no way to ever fill that void.”

  Daylight faded. Belle bolted the doors and read to Hannah under the coal oil lamp as they settled down for the night. With the Winchester and Brandy beside her, she closed her eyes and found a restless sleep. Startled by Brandy’s barking, Belle bolted out of bed and grabbed the rifle. Brandy went into a frenzy growling and barking at the front door. Something or someone was out there and Brandy knew it. After a while, he settled down and Belle went back to bed. If Brandy was satisfied, the intruder was gone.

  She dozed off holding the rifle handy. Her sleep was fitful, but it was deep enough to dream. A monstrous demon chased her and she couldn’t run. Her feet were entangled in eyeballs staring at her as they floated in the mass of tangled seaweed. It was Du Cartier and Blackwell fused into one, more animal than man. He grunted and groaned, his arms dangling to the ground like an ape, clawing with his long dirty fingernails as he came after her.

  She woke with a start, sat bolt upright and fired the Winchester at something moving across the room. Glass shattered. “Oh good Lord,” Belle moaned as she realized she had shot at her own reflection in her dresser mirror. She dropped the Winchester on the floor knowing she had to put an end to her hysteria.

  “Ma, Ma, what happened?” Hannah was tugging at Belle’s nightgown sleeve.

  “It’s all right, Hannah. I just shot a rat. Go back to sleep." Hannah closed her eyes and drifted off. Whoever was stalking the ranch would have Belle and her determination to deal with. She would chase the demon off her ranch, away from her home.

  The pink morning sky gave the hills, the river a rosy cast as Belle gathered the eggs and discovered one of her Wyandotte poulets was missing. No wonder Brandy had barked during the night. The intruder had been in the chicken house. If he was still on the ranch, she would find him.

  Above the ranch house, almost to the top of the mountain that rose so abruptly, up where Harold had found the campfire yesterday, Belle detected a faint brush-stroke of white joining the low-hanging mist on the horizon line. It was smoke, she was sure of it. The culprit must be up there cooking her missing chicken.

  “Hannah,” Belle called. “Hannah, I’m going to saddle up Blue and want ye to ride her over to O’Donnells’ and stay there for a while."

  “Where, Ma? All the way to McDonne
ll’s'?” Hannah asked.

  Belle held Hannah against her side as they walked down to the barn. She saddled up Blue and Horse and then cupped her hands to give Hannah a leg up. Hannah looked so tiny on the big Arabian, but the gelding was getting old now and he was as gentle as the August morn. He had an easy mouth and seemed to understand that he had a child on his back; Hannah would be just fine.

  ‘‘All right?” Belle asked.

  “Fine. Don’t worry about me, Ma. Since Hank taught me, I’m not afraid anymore. I could ride Blue anywhere--all the way to Boise if I want to."