by Steven Gray
‘Now, Ruthie, think of the cost and you know we’re needed back at the farm.’
Lewis sounded like a stubborn individual, who made all the decisions, right or wrong, and never listened to anyone else’s advice.
‘Can’t let our son do all the work. Peter,’ he added. ‘Good lad. Hard working and law-abiding. Unlike some.’ He glanced Norton’s way.
‘Peter hopes to get married soon,’ Ruth said. ‘I can’t wait for the wedding and then I’m hoping plenty of grandchildren will come along. Children will liven the place up. And it’ll be good to have some help around the house.’
‘Ruthie is already making baby clothes,’ Lewis laughed.
‘No, I’m not,’ Ruth protested with a blush. ‘Don’t tease.’
‘I think it’s nice you’ll have female company.’ The girl glared at the farmer.
Lewis immediately turned his attention to the girl. ‘And you?’
‘I’m Miss Fuller. Sarah.’
‘Have you come far?’ Greeley asked.
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, just a few miles down the road.’
‘What on earth brings you out in such weather?’ Ruth said.
‘I’m going to Serenity to be with my sister, Mary. She’s expecting her first baby any day now.’ She lowered her eyes as if embarrassed about speaking of such a matter before strangers.
‘How lovely,’ Ruth sighed.
‘She wants me to be with her. You see, her husband is a farmer too and he’s busy each and every day looking after the land and the animals.’ Lewis nodded in agreement to that. ‘So Mary asked if I would stay with her for a while to help her once the baby is born.’
‘Well I think it’s brave of you to travel all that way by yourself.’
‘I’d given Mary my word, Mrs Lewis. But I didn’t realize the weather was going to be as bad as it was. I thought more’n once that I was going to have an accident and then I was afraid the stage would have left before me.’
Obviously feeling he’d been left out of the conversation long enough, Lewis said, ‘Perhaps we know your sister. Mary, you say?’
‘Yes, Mary Trent.’
‘And she’s pregnant?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s her husband’s name?’
‘Tom.’
Lewis frowned. ‘Nope, don’t ring any bells. You sure they live in Serenity?’
‘Of course I am. Well, not in Serenity itself because they’ve got a farm. They’re quite a way out of town actually.’
‘Still don’t know ’em.’
‘They haven’t long moved there so I dare say they haven’t had a chance to introduce themselves to many people yet. That’s why I want to be with Mary when she has the baby, so she’s not all alone.’
‘Even so, the farming community is small and I’d’ve thought I’d’ve heard of ’em, which I ain’t,’ Lewis continued in his stubborn way.
Ruth interrupted. ‘We don’t know everyone, dear.’
‘And you say your folks farm near Talbot?’
Sarah looked uncomfortable at all the farmer’s questions and just nodded.
In an effort to stop her husband questioning Sarah so relentlessly, Ruth said, ‘Clarence and me came out here in 1871. Clarence fought for the North during the War Between the States and afterwards he couldn’t settle to work for his pa. . . .’
‘Pa had a carpentry business,’ Lewis interrupted. ‘The work was OK but we didn’t earn a lot and the customers were a demanding lot, who knew nothing about working wood. So after Pa died, I decided to sell up. Start anew. Ruthie and me thought long and hard about what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go.’
‘Why become a farmer?’ Greeley asked. ‘When you had no experience of the life? And why choose Arizona?’
Ruth looked as if she had asked exactly the same questions. Despite what Clarence said, he probably hadn’t involved her in any decision-making.
Lewis went on, ‘Well, from what we read in the newspapers, it sounded as though farmers were badly needed out this way and there was good land to be had, cheap too, and good money to be made. I’d have my independence. And not only has Arizona plenty of open space, it also has sunshine and warm winters. Not like back in Maine. Winters there were harsh and long.’
‘Weren’t you scared of the Indian threat or outlaws?’
‘No. I didn’t think they’d bother us.’
Greeley rolled his eyes at the man’s obstinate stupidity. It was just lucky chance they hadn’t been attacked, especially in the early days. He knew from bitter experience how perilous life on the frontier could be.
‘Never regretted it once, have we, Ruthie?’
‘Well, dear, it has been hard going at times and, despite what Clarence says, we certainly haven’t become rich on it.’
‘There goes my wife again! Always moaning. Don’t listen to her. It’s a good life and we ain’t beholden to no one. What about you?’ he turned again to Sarah.
‘It’s much the same,’ she said. ‘My father was also in the Union Army and I grew up on a small farm in Ohio. We moved to Talbot when I was fifteen, eight years ago now. Mary is two years older than me and I’ve got two younger brothers, both of whom want to have farms of their own one day when they’re old enough.’
‘Do you like living in Arizona?’
‘Oh yes, Mrs Lewis, I do. Although you’re right, farming is hard work. It can be dangerous too. So Pa made sure to teach us how to shoot.’
‘Well, we ain’t never had any trouble.’ Not liking to be contradicted, Lewis turned deliberately from Sarah.
He was about to start questioning Greeley, when Ruth said, ‘Oh, dear. It’s coming over real black. The storm must be approaching. I hoped we’d get to Serenity in time to avoid it but I don’t think we will.’
‘My wife always looks on the dark side of things.’
Sarah scowled at Lewis for being so unfeeling of his wife’s fears and reached across to hold Ruth’s hand. ‘Don’t worry we’ll all look out for each other. We’ll be safe enough.’
‘I surely do hope so.’
CHAPTER TEN
Then what the stagecoach passengers had been expecting and fearing happened. The storm hit with a sudden and ferocious fury.
Lightning forked across the sky in a blinding white light, making them jump, followed instantly by a clap of thunder so loud everything trembled and so prolonged it seemed it would never stop.
Both Sarah and Ruth cried out and Ruth buried her head against her husband’s chest, while he put an arm around her.
Buffeted by a blast of strong wind, the stagecoach swayed alarmingly, almost toppling over. The horses set up a terrified whinnying.
‘They’re going to bolt!’ Ruth screamed.
But somehow Brown controlled both them and the coach and sensibly slowed the horses to a walk.
More lightning flashed, sparking the air with electricity, and within moments it started to rain torrentially hard. The dry and arid desert turned instantly into a quagmire and mud spattered up behind the coach’s wheels, slowing them even more. It became almost as dark as night.
Sarah caught hold of one of Greeley’s hands and held on tight.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘The driver knows what he’s doing.’
He hoped he was right. He didn’t like admitting it, but he was as frightened as everyone else. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. He wondered whether they would be able to go on much further as the thunder continued to roar while the rain was so heavy it was almost impossible to see anything beyond the stagecoach’s windows.
Marshal Rayner had never known a storm like this one.
When it first struck, he said he’d go out to make sure everyone had locked up tight and to warn people to stay inside. He didn’t get very far. He was soaked through as soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk. The wind was so wild he had to cling onto the nearest hitching rail to avoid being knocked off his feet. His ears were assailed with the noise of the incessant thu
nder. Wisely he decided to go back into the office: the townsmen would have to take their chances. To be out in this was to risk being killed and anyone who didn’t realize that was stupid.
Evans poured out coffee for them both and they stood at the window, watching the sheets of rain that made it difficult to see the hitching rail, let alone the other side of the street. A couple of cowboys staggered by, leading their horses to the safety of the livery stable.
‘Don’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon,’ the deputy said.
If anything, it was getting worse. The thunder and lightning were almost constant and the rain even harder.
‘I reckon we might as well call it a day,’ Rayner said. ‘Anyone is out in this, well more fool them. We won’t be able to do anything until morning. Sal the Gal didn’t pick a very good time to rob the madam and run off, did she? Poor old Queenie! Fancy. I know Sal is quite the gal, but I never imagined even she would have the guts to fell Queenie to the ground and steal all her money.’
‘Couldn’t’ve happened to a nicer lady! Sal must sure as hell pack a punch.’
The two men grinned at one another. Neither had much time for Queenie; she treated her girls badly and didn’t look after them, being concerned only with the money they earned her. They didn’t have much time for Sal either, a girl they considered as hard as nails, but they had to admire her for what she had done. Not many people dared cross Queenie.
Summoned to the brothel, they had found the madam, her hair dishevelled, face bruised, jaw already swelling up and one eye almost closed. They’d listened to her screeching complaints and demands that Sal be caught and her and the money returned to the brothel. After calming her down somewhat, the two lawmen had made a half-hearted attempt to find Sal.
They doubted they would. As Rayner said, if she had any sense she’d have high-tailed it out of town as quickly as she could.
They were right. Sal was nowhere around. No one admitted seeing her or knowing what had become of her. However, a little later one of the farmers from nearby came in to report his horse was missing, stolen, from the livery.
Old Man Henderson professed ignorance.
‘I don’t know as I give much for her chances,’ Rayner went on. ‘There ain’t much shelter out there. I don’t suppose even Sal could’ve reached anywhere she’d be safe before all this started.’
‘Guess not.’
Rayner sighed. ‘She might’ve been a whore and a thief, but I can’t help feeling sorry for her. It took guts to make good her escape from the brothel and Queenie and now she’s ridden straight into a storm.’
‘There’s those folks on the stagecoach too. They’ll certainly have been caught out in the open.’
‘Yeah. I hope they’re OK.’
After a while the thunder and lightning eased slightly and moved away towards the hills. But it continued to rain hard, the drops bouncing high in the puddles that covered the desert, forming a thick mist. The sky was full of dense, black clouds. The journey became even slower and even more uncomfortable, the stagecoach seeming to hit every hole and bump it came to while being continually rocked by the gusts of wind.
No one said much. They were too apprehensive to make idle talk and they had no desire to talk about the conditions.
But Bill Brown was an experienced driver and able to handle the horses. At least out in the desert. It might be different once they started the climb up through the hills. No one wanted to think about that.
After a couple of hours Lewis broke the silence. He pulled out his watch from his jacket pocket. ‘We ain’t making very good time. We should’ve reached the way station long before now. Ain’t sure how far we’ve still got to go.’ He cackled. ‘Wells Fargo won’t be able to boast they’ve kept to time today, will they?’
‘It’s not funny, Clarence.’
‘Now, Ruthie, don’t take on so. You know I don’t mean nothing and . . .’
Suddenly from above the driver let out a startled yell and began to haul on the reins in an attempt to bring the horses to a halt.
Ruth screamed as the stagecoach rocked precariously and, as it came to a juddering halt, Sarah was flung from her seat.
‘What’s happening?’ Ruth cried. ‘What’s wrong?’
Greeley helped Sarah up and stuck his head out of the window.
‘What is it?’ Lewis demanded.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Expecting to see some sort of obstruction ahead of them, Greeley was quite surprised. ‘There’s a man standing by the side of the road,’ he announced over his shoulder. ‘He’s alone.’
At least Greeley couldn’t see any sign of anyone else through the rain. The land was flat and empty. No riders waiting in ambush anywhere. Not that that was likely. Surely no one would be so foolish as to try and rob the stage on a day like this, but he was ready to act if they were and his hand rested on the butt of his gun.
‘I’ll find out who he is.’
He got down from the coach. He landed ankle-deep in the mud and almost fell. At the same time the guard, Daniels, climbed down from his perch, shotgun held under his arm. Not that the young man who’d hailed the coach appeared to pose any threat. He was sopping wet, shivering with the cold and he looked thoroughly dejected and worn out, hardly able to stand up.
‘What the hell are you doin’ out here?’ Daniels demanded. ‘On foot and soaked an’ all.’
‘My horse got spooked by the first flash of lightning and threw me.’ The young man spoke through teeth that chattered so hard it was difficult to understand what he said. ‘It then ran off. Left me stranded.’
‘Whereabouts was this?’
He pointed shakily to the left. ‘Yonder somewhere.’
Greeley said, ‘Where were you headed?’
‘T . . . T . . . Talbot.’
‘Well now it looks like you’re on your way to Serenity.’ The guard laughed.
‘Sir, I don’t care where I go so long as I get out of this damn rain. There is room on board, isn’t there?’ He cast an anxious look at the stage where the faces of Ruth and Sarah stared down at him.
‘You can sit on top. . . .’
Greeley interrupted. ‘No, he’d be better off inside. Dry off a bit.’
‘He’ll soak the seats.’
‘He can sit on the floor.’
Daniels shrugged as if to say he didn’t much care either way.
Greeley climbed back into the stage. ‘It’s OK. Just someone who got caught out in the storm.’ He turned to help the young man up after him. ‘Sit down.’
The newcomer did so, wrapping his arms round himself, shivering.
‘Oh, you poor boy,’ Ruth cried as she saw the bedraggled stranger. ‘Here.’ She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. ‘Wipe your face with this.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘What’s your name?’ Lewis inevitably asked as the stage set off again. He wanted to know everything.
‘I’m Harry Anderson, sir.’
Anderson was about twenty-five with dark hair and blue eyes. Normally he would probably be called dapper because he wore a bowler hat, black suit and shoes. Not now. The rim of his hat had collapsed, his trousers stuck to his legs and the shoes looked as if they’d only be fit to throw away. His face and hands were covered with scratches from where he’d fallen off his horse.
Lewis stared at him for a moment or two. ‘Ain’t I seen you some place else?’
Anderson looked somewhat taken aback at the words, which sounded almost like an accusation. ‘I don’t think so, sir. I certainly don’t recognize you.’
‘Take no notice, Mr Anderson. My husband always thinks he’s come across everyone he meets.’ Ruth frowned at Lewis, who shrugged and grinned.
‘What are you doing way out here by yourself?’ Greeley asked, still on the alert for trouble.
He didn’t altogether trust Anderson and was suspicious of the fact that he just happened to be stranded by the stagecoach road without his horse just as they were comi
ng by so there would be no choice but to take him up. Could he be in league with Norton? Here to help him escape? While it was highly unlikely, word did have a way of getting around and one of Norton’s pals might have discovered he was going to be on the Serenity stage and planned to effect a rescue.
Greeley decided to keep a careful eye on both of them, just in case. He wasn’t going to lose that $100 bounty if he could help it, nor deprive the citizens of Serenity of their hanging.
‘I’m a drummer. In ladies’ goods.’
‘Where’s your stuff?’
‘With my horse,’ Anderson said ruefully. ‘Along with everything else I had with me. I’ve lost it all. As for my horse, it’s still running I expect.’
‘How dreadful,’ Ruth said.
‘I hadn’t long picked up and paid for the goods I was meant to sell, for which I used up all the money I’d been saving. I was hoping to make a good profit on ’em too. Now they’re all gone. I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve got nothing left.’ Anderson groaned and put his head in his hands.
‘You’re alive, that’s what matters,’ Sarah said.
Right then Anderson didn’t look convinced of the fact. He groaned again. ‘For a long while I feared I was lost for sure and about to die out there in the desert. I had no idea which way to go or how far I was from anywhere. I was walking for what seemed like hours. It was only when I came over the ridge and spotted the stagecoach road that I hoped I might be OK.’
‘How did you know there was a stagecoach due?’ Greeley said.
‘I didn’t. But I thought if nothing else I could follow the road on foot. It would have to lead somewhere. Eventually. You can’t imagine how relieved I felt when I saw you coming. Thank God you stopped.’
‘We should be at the way station soon. You can dry off a bit there.’
‘I hope so. I’ve never been so wet or cold in my life.’ Anderson slumped back against the door and closed his eyes.
The others were as relieved as Anderson when not much later the way station finally came into view. Up close this proved to be little more than a large adobe hut with a corral to one side for the horses, along with a few work buildings in the yard at the back. It was situated at the base of the foothills, which rose, dark and forbidding in the rain, behind it, the trees swaying in the incessant, still howling wind.
