After a few silent moments, Nick asked, “Where in New Mexico?”
“Oh. Right. Some place called Dos Rios. It’s a ranch called the Busted Wheel.”
“When’s that job lined up?”
“Not for a little while. Dutch was just getting his hooks into one of the men working out there. He’ll ride down first and the rest of the men will gather up some more help to replace the ones who parted ways here. That’s the way it always goes, I swear!”
The words had come from J. D. so quickly that there wasn’t enough time for him to put together a convincing lie unless he was reciting one from memory. Considering how much J. D. was trembling with fear in front of Nick’s gun, it was doubtful he could have even recited his own name from memory.
Nodding slowly, Nick let go of J. D.’s shirt and backed up a step. He lowered his gun, eased it into his holster and kept his palm on the grip.
“Can I go now?” J. D. asked.
“Sure.” J. D. took a few tentative steps toward the mouth of the alley. He must have glanced back at Nick twenty times before stepping into the open. Once he’d gathered enough courage, he bolted down the street and out of Nick’s sight. Even so, Nick could hear J. D. trip and fall at least twice on the boardwalk.
THIRTEEN
It was two days before Joseph felt well enough to walk. His wounds were scattered over most of his body and they took their toll now more than when he’d received them. Fortunately, there wasn’t much for the doctor to do when he finally paid him a visit. In keeping with the doctor’s orders, Joseph stayed with Nick and Catherine while he rested up.
Sam was more than happy with the arrangement, since he had a new field in which to play and plenty of new sights to take in. During the day, the boy watched Nick carve or helped load and unload the wagon when he went into town. Even the boy could tell Nick was uncomfortable getting so much attention. Whenever he asked why, all he got was a shrug and a tentative pat on the head.
After a particularly long day in his workshop, Nick climbed down from his wagon and started unhitching Rasa from her bridle. There were only tools in the back, so Kazys wasn’t needed to pull the load. When he glanced toward the house, he found Joseph waiting there instead of his son.
“Up and around, I see,” Nick said.
Joseph nodded and winced as he began taking some steps. For a moment, it looked as if he needed help staying upright. Rather than try to prop himself up with the arm he extended, he offered his hand to Nick. “I never properly thanked you for all you did.”
Shaking Joseph’s hand, Nick replied, “There’s no need to thank me.”
“You saved my boy’s life. That’s a hell of a lot to thank you for.”
“You’re welcome.”
Looking at the back of Nick’s wagon, Joseph pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. Finally, he said, “I…want to see my wife and daughter.”
Nick’s body froze, but his eyes darkened as if he’d been dreading the arrival of those words. “When you’re feeling better, I can take you to—”
“No. I want to see them now. If I don’t, I’ll lose whatever’s left of my mind.”
Chuckling under his breath, Nick said, “There’s still plenty left in there.”
Joseph lifted a hand to his left temple and brushed his fingers along the one wound he didn’t remember getting. It was a nasty gash that felt gruesome even after it had been stitched shut. The wound started at the front of his head just over his eye and continued in a straight gouge that ended above his ear. “They’re all I can think about, Nick. Please.”
Patting Joseph’s shoulder as he walked by, Nick stuck his head into the cabin and let Catherine know where they were going. He received a quick kiss on his cheek and then walked back to the wagon. Knowing Joseph would want to climb onto the passenger’s seat on his own, Nick watched him closely while fixing Rasa back into her rig.
Joseph stumbled a bit, but made it onto the wagon just fine. Once there, he breathed deeply and kept himself steady by gripping the seat with both hands.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Nick asked.
“Yeah. Just be ready to collect me if I fall out of this seat.”
Nick snapped the reins and got the wagon moving at an easy pace. The road from his cabin was fairly smooth and sloped downward to hook up with the main trail. Rather than turn right toward Ocean, Nick steered the wagon left toward a much more open stretch of land.
“Where are you going?” Joseph asked. “Isn’t your parlor in town?”
“It is, but they’re not in my parlor.”
Looking ahead to see where they were going, Joseph let out a frustrated breath and asked, “You buried them? I never gave permission for that.”
“I know.”
“But, I wanted to see them! I wanted to see their faces one more time before they were put into the ground!”
Nick met Joseph’s gaze and said, “I know what you’re saying, but…you didn’t want to see them.”
Somehow, those words didn’t sound ominous coming from Nick. They settled into Joseph’s mind like weights that slowly bowed his head. He didn’t say another word during the short ride to the graveyard. In fact, he was so lost in his memories that Joseph felt as if he’d only looked down for a second before the wagon rattled to a halt. When he looked up again, the graveyard was spread out in front of him.
Nick climbed down from the wagon and ran his hand along Rasa’s coat as he moved around the animal. “You need some help climbing down?”
Joseph shook his head and gritted his teeth with determination. The pain from most of his wounds barely even registered, but the gash on his temple forced him to pause when his boots touched the ground. Once the dizziness faded, Joseph straightened up and walked to where Nick was waiting.
The graveyard was surrounded on three sides by trees with one well-tended trail leading straight into it. Thanks to Nick’s constant attention, the place felt more like a park than a graveyard. None of the wilderness from the open field made it onto the hallowed ground. The grass was free of weeds and every last tombstone was properly cared for and in good repair.
“This way,” Nick said.
Steeling himself for the walk, Joseph made his way down the path until he’d caught up to Nick.
It was early in the summer evening and the sun was low in the sky. It still cast a warm glow, but the trees to the west blotted out most of its light. The shadows cast by the tombstones and grave markers were long, but not particularly thick. Instead, they seemed more like smears of dark pain along the ground. As the wind blew, it brought the smell of fresh grass and damp soil to both men’s noses.
“I get the impression that you haven’t done this work your whole life,” Joseph said.
“Is that a knock against how I maintain this place?”
“No, not at all. I was thinking more about how you handled a gun. You don’t normally see that sort of grit in an undertaker.”
“Actually, my father groomed me for this line of work since I was a kid,” Nick said. “The rest…came a bit later.”
“My father ran cattle from Kansas to Texas. He taught me an awful lot about my work as well. Mostly, he showed me the benefits of planting roots and starting up a ranch rather than riding from town to town with the herd.”
“Smart man. Is he still around?” Nick asked.
“Nah. He died not too much before…before Laurie was born.” Those words stung Joseph, but he choked back the pain and sucked in a breath. “What about yours?”
“My father’s still about,” Nick said. “He came with us to California, in fact.”
“Where is he?”
“He started up a small cabinet shop along the Coast, not far from San Francisco. Also does some masonry work when he can. I’m just glad I convinced him to stop digging holes for a living. At least this way, he won’t break his back before I’m able to pay him another visit.”
“Sounds like you two get along pretty well,” Joseph said. “Me and my
father were always squabbling about something.”
“Actually, we fought about plenty. It wasn’t until recently that we didn’t come to blows damn near every time I came within a few paces of him.”
“That why he lives so far away?”
Nick put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “He wanted to be near the ocean and I just wanted to visit it. Besides, riding with him all the way here from Nebraska was more than enough for both of us to appreciate being apart.”
Both men shared a bit of laughter and kept walking slowly among the burial plots. Joseph looked up at the orange-tinted sky and pulled in a lungful of fragrant air. He could feel the sunlight brushing against his face like a warm breath. When he looked down again, he saw Nick standing at a pair of freshly turned piles of earth.
“Here they are,” Nick said.
The uncertainty in Joseph’s steps turned quickly into another bout of dizziness. He knew the feeling didn’t come from any wound. At least, not from a wound that could be seen by the naked eye. As he walked closer, he kept his eye on the ground between the two graves or the grass around them. Even when he got directly in front of them, he wasn’t able to lift his head right away.
Placing a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, Nick said, “If you don’t want to do this right now, I can always bring you back later.”
The dizziness subsided enough for Joseph to shake his head. Slowly, he raised his chin and brought his eyes up to the graves. They were just piles of dirt of roughly the same size. Although there wasn’t anything particularly distinctive about the dirt, he knew he would remember the position of every last groove in the soil as well as every individual pebble.
But the sight wasn’t nearly as jarring as Joseph had expected. That was due to what he saw when he moved his eyes a bit past the graves and slightly up. At the head of the first grave was a stone marker with Anne’s name carved in elegant letters into an image of a scroll that went from the stone’s top to its bottom. Laurie’s marker was carved in a similar fashion, but what distinguished them from each other were the figures that had been carved into the sides of the stones. They were obviously not quite finished, but were far enough along to be appreciated.
Anne’s bore the image of an ethereal woman in a wispy dress, gazing down toward the next stone. On Laurie’s marker, there was a carving of a younger figure dressed in a shorter dress made from the same wispy material. The younger figure looked up and directly into the eyes of the mother on the stone to her left.
“My God,” Joseph breathed. “They’re beautiful. Did you make those?”
“Yes. I left room for more on an inscription if you wanted one. Also, I didn’t know their birthdays. I can add all that on if you like.”
“And the carving? The pictures?”
“I thought it would be nice.”
“But…when did you have the time for this?”
“I started the day after I brought you into my home,” Nick said.
Reaching out to run his hand along the carved stone, Joseph said, “But you couldn’t have gotten these done so quickly. You would’ve had to work night and day.”
“Pretty much.”
“This is more that I could have asked for. I don’t even know when I can pay you.”
“You don’t owe me a penny,” Nick said.
Joseph kept his hand on the face of the rock, moving only so he could alternate between his wife’s and his daughter’s stones. Keeping his fingers on top of Laurie’s marker, he looked over to Nick and found the tall man standing quietly with his hands clasped in front of him. “Isn’t it customary to take photographs of the dead before they’re buried?”
Nick reflexively winced at the sound of that, but managed to keep it all but hidden from sight. “Yes. It is.”
“I want to see those photographs.”
“Joseph, you need to remember your family the way they were. I did my best to clean them up and make them presentable, but…”
“I want to see their faces.”
Nick looked into Joseph’s eyes and stared all the way down to the burning embers of rage at the other man’s core. Even in the face of all that hatred, Nick kept his own face calm and his voice steady when he told him, “I didn’t take any pictures of your wife and daughter.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But that’s part of your job.”
“I know what my job is and most of it pertains to the folks left behind. You must remember how they looked before I got to them. Trust me when I tell you that’s the way you’ll want to remember them.”
Now it was Joseph’s turn to wince, but he kept pulling in haggard breaths while forcing himself to stare directly at Nick.
“You can’t tell me,” Nick went on to say, “that you or your boy would get anything good from having pictures like those around. I did you a service by making certain they wouldn’t even exist. I had to grow up with one of those damn pictures and all it ever gave me was nightmares. Remember how Anne and Laurie were on their best day, not their last one.”
“I don’t need any help in remembering their best days,” Joseph snarled. “I want to make sure their dead faces are in my head the next time I see the bastards that put those two angels in the ground. Thanks to this,” he said while stabbing a finger toward the wound on his temple, “that night’s already starting to fade.”
“Consider that a blessing,” Nick replied. “I’ve got memories of my own that I wish could fade.”
“I’ll hold onto this pain until I can visit it upon those fucking killers who took my girls from me. It may take a while to find them, so I want to make sure the fire’s still burning inside me just like it was that night.”
“It’ll always burn,” Nick told him. “In the meantime, though, maybe this will give you something else to think about.” With that, Nick dug into his pocket and fished out the small book he’d taken from his shop earlier that day.
Joseph accepted the book and opened it. “A Bible?”
“A mourner’s Bible. It just has passages meant to ease your mind at a time like this. Try to live with the way things turned out. That’s the only choice you’ve got. Nothing you can do will put it out of your mind and nothing you can do will make it any better. You hear me? Nothing.”
Joseph’s face twisted into an expression of bitter anger. Kneeling in the fresh dirt and lowering his head, he said, “I’ll just have to see about that.”
Nick took a few steps back and left the other man with his wife and daughter. There would be time for talking later.
FOURTEEN
Catherine woke up the next morning to a gentle yet insistent tugging on her arm. She stirred just enough to open her eyes and see less light drifting in through the bedroom window than usual. Figuring that she had at least another half hour or so before needing to climb out of bed, she started to roll on her side and get back to sleep.
The tugging continued.
When she opened her eyes again and rolled back over to find someone staring at her, she nearly cleared the bed.
“I’m hungry,” Sam said.
“Good Lord,” Catherine gasped. She sat up and did her best to pull her nightgown over the proper spots so she could safely remove her covers in front of the child. “You scared me, Sammy.”
“Sorry. I’m hungry.”
“All right. Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Nick was still in bed, which told her it was even earlier than she’d thought. He began to stir, but was appeased by a few little pats on his back from Catherine.
The floor seemed especially cold that early in the morning. In fact, the whole cabin felt different. It was almost as if the place itself was still sleeping and she had to sneak so as not to wake it all up. She found herself whispering to the little boy even though it would have taken cannon fire to rouse Nick.
“How about some eggs?” she asked. “Would you like that?”
Sam nodded and situated himself on one of the two benches at
the dining table.
Without even thinking about it, Catherine poured a cup of milk and set it in front of Sam before tending to the food. She glanced over to the bed they’d set up for Joseph and his son in a corner of the room and saw a figure huddled under the blanket.
“You’re up early,” she said to Sam. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“I had bad dreams,” Sam replied after drinking noisily from his cup. “About my sister.”
“Well, those won’t last long. When they’re gone, all you’ll remember is the happy times you had with her. Your mother, too. That’s the way they’d prefer it.”
“Really?”
She nodded over her shoulder at him and shifted her attention back to fixing breakfast. It took a bit more concentration than normal to keep from spilling anything as her tired hands fumbled to light the stove.
After finishing off his milk, Sam asked, “Will you take care of me?”
“What do you need, Sammy?”
“When Pa left, he said you’d take care of me.”
Catherine was still cracking an egg when those words finally sank in. Her hand was frozen in place as she looked back over to Joseph’s bed. Egg white oozed over her fingers as she squinted into the shadows. The shape under the blankets wasn’t moving or making the slightest bit of noise.
Letting the egg drop, Catherine rushed over to the bed and reached out to tap the figure lying there. She instantly realized that the shape under the covers actually was formed of the blankets themselves, which had been mussed and piled up in one spot. Out of sheer disbelief, she lifted them and looked at the bed.
“Where’s your father?” she asked.
Sam was sitting in his spot, swinging his legs from the bench. “I don’t know. He said he’d be back, but maybe not for a long time. Kind of like when he rode away and left me at home with Laurie.”
“Back from where?”
After thinking it over for a second or two, Sam shrugged his shoulders and tipped the cup all the way back for the last drop of milk. “Are you still making eggs?”
Catherine bolted into her bedroom, grabbed Nick’s shoulder and shook him vigorously.
Man From Boot Hill Page 8
