The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

  Wes shook his head but said nothing.

  Some emotion played in her expression, but he couldn’t make it out.

  "Well, I haven't left yet!" He smiled.

  "No, but you will leave. After all, I’m not your obligation. And I have to prepare for it."

  "Well, I won't just leave you high and dry. Maybe I can stay a little longer, get your fields plowed for you and planting time then leave."

  Her glance met his for a moment, then she looked away. "I got no right to ask it. You have a life to live of your own You obviously like to travel, and I can't say as I blame you. Men aren't like women, nesters. Although I do like to watch the boats coming down the river. Always wanted to ride down the Mississippi."

  "Let's talk about this later. Right now we got enough to contend with, I'd say." He smiled gently at her now.

  But Kate knew there was more to it than that. She was already starting to depend on his help. It bothered her because in the end, he would leave, and she knew it. When he left, she'd be right back where she started from, nowhere. It weighed on her most of the night, and he almost stayed longer after supper. But while she did the dishes, he sat on the porch and stared out at the hay that needed tending.

  Moby came out with him and laid down by his side as though they'd been friends all along.

  Wes stared at the dog and nodded, "She does need the help."

  Moby moaned a minute and looked at him with sad eyes.

  Wes couldn't stop himself from worrying about the woman. She was here alone, with little experience at farming. How would she manage. And a woman without a home was a lost woman. She had to keep this place, as it was good fertile land.

  He shouldn't be worrying about it. It wasn't his business. Maybe she'd sell and find herself a new life if he left.

  Still, he promised Dickens he'd protect her from the Smiths. He'd have to keep that promise and there was no telling how long that would take, because he saw the way they eyed her, and it bothered him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear this woman was an innocent, but how could that be, she'd been married for a year, hadn't she?

  The poor woman had no idea all the dangers she might face.

  She came out on the porch and saw him sitting there on the steps and came to sit on the steps with him. Moby came to lay beside her, close enough she could pet him a while. Although sitting there, staring up at the stars, was calming, there was a tension between them that she didn't understand.

  "Nice night, huh?" she smiled.

  "Yeah, look at all those stars," he cast his glance upward with amusement.

  "You must be used to looking at the stars at night in your travels." She said softly.

  "Yes ma'am, but you never tire of it." He murmured.

  "Why do you roam so much. I mean, it's none of my business, but don't you ever hanker for a home of your own?" She asked.

  "My folks died early on in my life. An Uncle came to raise me. We made out well, and I liked living with him, but about the time I grew up, he died too, and I don't know it took something out of me. So I began to wander, and I haven't stopped."

  "So you grew to have feelings for him, and he died on you. I can understand that. When Jim died, I felt guilty."

  "For what?" he asked turning his head to look at her.

  "For not having any feelings about it." She murmured.

  He stared at her now, the tension seemed to grow. "Perhaps you had a reason."

  She didn't want to get into this, so she changed his direction of thinking.

  "You came to love your Uncle, didn't you?" She asked softly.

  There was a silence then he glanced at her for a moment and he nodded, "Yeah… "

  "You've never married?" she asked again very softly.

  "No ma'am."

  "Wasn't there ever anyone special, I mean a girl in your life?"

  He turned to stare at her and something in his expression changed, "No ma'am. There have been women, the kind you find in a saloon. But no special girl."

  "That's sad." She murmured, staring at him. "And yet, maybe it isn't."

  "Well, if you were interested in a woman, and then had to move on, she'd be hurt." Kate said and looked away from him.

  "You think so?" he asked twisting his head and waiting for her answer.

  "Of course, I mean, if she felt the same way."

  After a long silence he changed the subject.

  "You don't talk much about your husband. Were you happy?"

  She turned away from his probing glance, "I never thought about it much. I mean at first, maybe, but I don't think I was ready for marriage."

  "Was he good to you?" He asked.

  "Good to me? I don't have much to compare it too, but after we married, he changed."

  "Changed?"

  "I was fifteen when my father died, just coming into womanhood, confused, hurt, lonely, and I didn't know much about men. I liked them, but I didn't know much about being a wife… "

  "Oh… If he knew you a long time, surely he understood that."

  "No, he didn't. I guess it's kind of funny. Sometimes I think he was as dumb about marriage as I was."

  "How's that, ma'am?"

  She shrugged.

  "You can know some people a long time and never really know them. Others you can know a short time and you feel you've known them all along." When he didn't say anything she went on, "Like Mr. Dickens, I felt I'd known him for ages when I met him."

  His head jerked about to stare at her once more.

  "Yeah, Mr. Dickens is a good man."

  "I guess I gave Jim, my husband the wrong idea about me, as I flirted with him every chance I got before we married. But he didn't know it was because I was so lonely."

  He stared at her now, "That's pretty normal I guess."

  Wes nodded. "You were attracted to him, that's natural."

  "Well, I'm not sure about that either. I mean, he was the only man I knew very well. He was good enough looking, but that wasn't the attraction. I was lonely for company. He was the only one around."

  Now he really looked at her.

  "It seems to go back to the same thing all the time, you were lonely."

  "I was lonely. He was always giving me tips on how to manage things, knowing I took over our place at fifteen. And he let everyone in town know he was looking after me too. I liked that. I felt protected. I thought he was interested in me, and… I guess he was, at first. At first, he was very protective of me. But the older I got, the more he changed."

  "At first?"

  "I wasn't like he expected. I suppose I misled him. It wasn't intentional, but I can see now where he got some wrong ideas about me. You might as well know we didn't have a good marriage. We were more partners than man and wife." She explained. Her face mirrored her emotions.

  "That sounds pretty cold."

  "It was."

  He cleared his throat, knowing the conversation was heading in the wrong direction. Yet his curiosity of what went wrong made him ponder her words.

  "I mean before we married, he was a talker, and he'd tell me about his farm and what he wanted to do with it, and it sounded so nice. He'd talk about a lot of things. But after we married, things changed. His folks were angry with him for marrying the likes of me. That upset him. He became quieter and more distant. I hadn't expected that. I suppose I should have, but I had no family, and hadn't for some time. But he proposed to me, and kind of out of the blue."

  Wes seemed to try to put things together but for the life of him, it didn't fit. She was young, pretty, and sweet, what could have gone wrong?

  "I guess marriage wasn't what I expected it would be."

  "And what did you expect it to be?"

  She sighed heavily looking out on the prairie. "My girlfriends were giddy about getting married, they were so happy, so excited. They'd talk about being kissed and courted. Jim didn't do either."

  "Neither?" Wes was really staring now.

  "Guess that sounds kind of funny, huh. I was stupid, kne
w very little about things, and I thought it would all come after we married. You know the kissing and stuff."

  "It didn't."

  "No, I think Jim kind of thought of me like his daughter at first, and then when I accepted his proposal, nothing really changed. And I'll admit, I only flirted because I was lonely. He didn't really court me. He never even kissed me. But marriage didn't make it less lonely. It made it worse. So I read books, wonderful books on love and marriage and how it should be. But ours was never like that. It was like reading a fairy tale. Jim hated me reading. At first, I tried hard to impress him. I'd cook meals I knew he liked; I'd fix the place up nice, so he'd want to stay home. But nothing impressed him. And when I ask him if he was pleased, he'd tell me that was a woman's job, to cook, and clean."

  "What does a woman want out of marriage?" Wes suddenly asked.

  She glanced up at the stars and smiled, "Someone who holds your hand in the dark. Someone who wipes your tears away and tells you things will be better. Someone who knows your soul and respects it for what it is. Someone who makes your heart hammer when he looks at you."

  He turned once more to stare into her face.

  "And what do you give back?"

  "Trust, faith, hope, and love… if he lets you."

  "Let's you?" he questioned.

  "Mr. Dolan, my husband didn't love me. He merely wanted me… " She suddenly turned away. "At least at first."

  "And that changed too?"

  "Yes… "

  "Why, I mean. Your young, beautiful, what changed?"

  Seeing he'd overstepped his bounds he shook his head, "It's not my business."

  "Mr. Dolan," she stood up now and moved away. "My husband was not a gentle man in any way. The way he had protected me at first, made me think he was. But I found out on our wedding night."

  "Well ma'am, isn't that the way it goes?"

  "You don't understand." Tears came into her eyes and she stared at him. "You couldn't possibly understand, he was a monster. And that was the one and only time he ever touched me."

  Then she went into the house quietly and closed the door.

  Wes turned to watch her, saw the glint of tears on her cheek and turned away with a frown. My God, he hadn't expected her to say something like that!

  Was she that naïve about what goes on during the wedding night, or had he been brutal instead of gentle?

  Wes sat there in the sweet night air and thought about her words. He'd wondered why there was no remorse for his death, nor sadness that he was gone. Only acceptance of the fact. My God, what was she saying, had the man raped her, on her wedding night!

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning when Wes came inside, Kate had everything on the table. She barely said good morning. Her cheeks bloomed a bright pink now.

  "I'm sorry Mr. Dolan. I should never have opened my mouth last night. It was wrong of me. It wasn't your business, but it just came rushing out of me. I didn't mean to tell anyone. But you’re a drifter, I'll probably never see you again, so it didn't seem to matter. But please, don't tell anyone else. I couldn't bear it."

  "Ma'am what you say to me, goes no further, I assure you. And maybe it was good you got it off your chest. I could tell there was something deep down bothering you. Sometimes just saying something can take a lot off your shoulders."

  "That was wrong, all wrong. And I apologize."

  Wes said nothing.

  She served up breakfast and they didn't talk much. She determined she would not be confessing anything else to anyone.

  But in her mind, she reasoned Wes might be right. She did feel better now. Better because she knew he didn't understand why she hadn't mourned her husband. Now he knew, and perhaps they could work more peacefully together. Not that they had a problem, but it seemed everyone would naturally wonder why she didn't mourn her husband's passing.

  But last night, after she confessed her secret, she was so ashamed.

  Just now, he'd made it better.

  The last load of corn, Wes delivered to Dickens and Wes sat and had coffee with him. "So is everything going alright out there?" Dickens asked.

  "Yeah, this is the last of the corn."

  "Good. I gave those families a lot of it and they sure were happy to get it. You see, I gave them some pigs too. When you're starving anything looks good to you."

  "I'll bet. How many are there?"

  "About ten families. They said they had enough to save for seeds and grow them some next year." Dickens laughed. "Some of the women got gardens now and we'll swap back and forth."

  "Good."

  "So you seen the Smith's yet?"

  "We ran into them last time we were here. They're gonna hunt the cat, so am I, but alone."

  "Oh man, that's liable to be a mess. With them drinkin' like they do. Did they ask who you were?"

  "Oh yeah, they asked."

  "And how did they act around Kate?"

  "One of them couldn't take their eyes off her, you were right. They are a danger to her."

  "At least now you know I'm serious about protecting her."

  "Yeah, anyway, they were drinking then, and that's why I'm going it alone. You had any trouble out here?"

  "No, but I keep my ears open." Dickens grinned.

  "You let me know if you do."

  "Sure will. I can't afford to have a cat out here; they'd get them hogs for sure. So, how are you getting' along with Kate?"

  "Fine, why?"

  "Well, she's a right pretty thing. Just wondered."

  "She didn't have a very good marriage, Dickens." Wes told him.

  "I knew that, just by watching her. Know what was wrong?"

  "Yeah, but I won't be tellin' you, so you might as well quit snoopin'."

  "Why not?"

  "The woman just needs someone to talk to. I'm trying to encourage her to meet other people in the community, so when I'm gone, she'll have someone she can talk to and someone that might help her if things get rough."

  "Well, I reckon that is good. So she confided in you?"

  "Yeah… I honestly don't think she meant to. I guess sometimes we carry things around that have to come out to get rid of it. Or it eats you up. But let's leave it at that."

  "Okay, I respect that. But she trusts you, evidently, that's a good thing." Dickens eyed him.

  "Just the slip of the tongue and don't ask no more."

  "Okay," Dickens smiled.

  "Well, I better be running along. If you have any trouble with that cat, let me know, I'm going after him now."

  "Alright, and be careful, son."

  "I will… see ya!"

  Dickens waved him away. Bubba came out of the barn and saw Dickens staring after Wes. "Everything alright, Mr. Dickens?"

  "Yeah, everything is good, Bubba. Wes is fallin' for that little gal, just like I'd hoped he would." Dickens chuckled and glanced at Bubba.

  Bubba smiled.

  ***

  But when Wes pulled into the yard, he didn’t see Kate. At this time of day she was usually out working somewhere, but he saw no signs of her. In fact, it was much too still around here for his liking. The birds in the trees were not singing, it was just too quiet.

  He went inside the house and called out to her still no answer.

  "Kate!"

  No answer.

  He called out again. This time he heard the horses in the barn, they were making all kinds of racket. Something was wrong they wouldn't be making those noises unless something was in there that shouldn't be.

  He walked toward the barn with caution.

  Wes heard Moby barking like crazy and knew there was something or someone in the barn.

  He put his hand on his gun and again he heard the horses. Since the mule was hooked up to the wagon he drove over to Dickens with, he tied him up and listened for more.

  As he went to open the barn door Kate called out to him, "Don't come in here! The cat!"

  Pulling his gun, he swung the door open slowly and there was the cat staring do
wn at Kate who was backed against the wall of the barn. Moby was barking up a storm, standing not far from Kate, as if protecting her. The cat made that loud scathing sound and Kate searched for a weapon, but the pitchfork was too far away. The cat wasn't that close to her, on the other side of the barn, but one spring would be enough to get to her.

  "Don't move Kate," Wes called to her.

  "I don't think I can," she cried as sweat peppered her forehead. "He hurt one of the horses… "

  "We'll take care of it, just don't move."

  He could only see the cat's head peering from behind a stack of hay in the barn. Without a good shot, he had no options. Suddenly he threw his gun at the cat, hitting him, but not knocking him out, the cat sprang out of the barn and ran, screeching all the way and Kate slid to the floor of the barn. Tears running down her cheeks.

  Moby came up to her and licked her face.

  "I'm alright boy," she murmured.

  "Are you?" Wes asked coming up to her.

  She glanced up as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

  He helped her up and she went straight into his arms. Wes held her, and felt her shaking, and then he wrapped his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and put her arms on his back, her tears soaking into his shirt.

  "I don't know how he got in. I mean, I left the barn door open, I was just going to feed the stock." She pulled away to look up into his face unaware that she was in his embrace.

  Suddenly she stopped talking and her cheeks went bright red as she straightened away from him.

  "It's okay, it's okay," He pulled her back into his arms and held her a moment. His lips grazed the top of her head as he pulled her closer. "It's alright, you are alright now." Then without looking at her he pulled away. "I've got to get after him. But let's take a look at that horse first."

  The horse lay panting on the floor of the barn where the cat had been. He was cut open badly and there was no chance of saving him.