The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

He didn't talk much about Bubba, but they could see the sadness in him.

  As they sat around the table one-night Kate got an idea. "Mr. Dickens, why don't you come and stay at my place until your fit enough to work at least."

  "But Kate, I gotta get back to my hogs." Mr. Dickens told her.

  "Maybe we could bring them over to my place and you could tend them there." Kate suggested.

  Mr. Dickens stared at her and broke out in a slight smile. "That's right nice of you to offer."

  "Will you consider it then?" Kate asked.

  "Well, I reckon it is going to take me a while to get back to full steam." Mr. Dickens smiled.

  "Good." Kate smiled. "When Wes comes back, we can get you settled in then."

  Wes and Mr. Tate were gone a long while and Kate didn't want to alarm Annie, but she was worried about them. Since she read a lot, she had a big imagination.

  A few wagons passed full of hunters, but no one stopped. The women figured they were just restocking their supplies or something.

  Late one afternoon as Annie and Kate were cooking Annie muttered lowly. "I wonder what is taking them so long."

  Mr. Dickens heard her and was quick to dispel her fears.

  "Tracking a cat can take some time. They cover a lot of territory. It ain't as easy as you might think. They are more cunning than some animals."

  "You ever killed one yourself?" Kate asked.

  "A long time ago. And let me tell you, it isn't a bit of fun. They can almost outthink you. Took me nearly a month of tracking to find him, and I was with a small crowd of drovers who wanted that cat dead, no matter what. He'd managed to kill off several of their cattle and one drover. So they were pretty angry."

  "How did you finally catch him?"

  "He was stalking the herd. He started screeching like they do. We cornered him. But let him think he had the upper hand. Just as he was about to leap onto another cow, I spotted him and got my shot off. He fell dead." Dickens acted out the scene and the women were breathless listening to him.

  "My, I guess that made you a hero to those drovers then."

  "Pretty much. I was the cook on the drive, and they used to bicker about my cooking. After that, they never said an ill word to me." Dickens laughed.

  "How long you been a pig farmer?" Kate asked.

  "Most of my life. My daddy was a pig farmer. It kind of runs in my family." Dickens chuckled.

  "Didn't you ever want to do anything else?" Kate asked.

  "To tell the truth, no. I mean, maybe that sounds a bit funny to you, but my daddy always said, if you're good at something, stay with it. And I'm good with my hogs."

  "Yes, you are," Annie sat down at the table with him and chuckled.

  Dickens looked at Annie, then Kate. "I want to thank you ladies for looking after me."

  "No thanks needed, you're our neighbor."

  Someone knocked on the door and Annie went to see who it was. It was the Reverend and both women looked a bit stunned to see him there. It usually meant there was a death and they both grabbed their chests.

  "Excuse me ladies, I came to talk to Mr. Dickens."

  "Come in, come in." Annie told him relieved that it wasn't their men he came about.

  The Reverend was a tall man, and in his black suit he favored Abe Lincoln a bit, everyone in town thought so.

  He took his hat off and walked toward Dickens.

  His face was gaunt, but rather handsome too.

  He saw him sitting at the table and Annie went to get him a cup of coffee.

  "Mr. Dickens, I came about your place the other day and well, I have some bad news."

  Annie set the coffee down in front of him, and he took a sip before he told him.

  Dickens looked straight at the man, "Well spit it out."

  "That cat came back and got all your hogs."

  "All of them?" Dicken's face screwed up in a painful frown.

  "I'm afraid so. I got some of Joe Henry's boys to clean the mess up. But they are all dead."

  Dickens felt hot tears sting his eyes. "Well, I… "

  He lost thought for a moment as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I thank you for coming by and telling me."

  "I'm sorry. Are you feeling better, sir?" The Reverend asked.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Or will be soon."

  "I thought you should know. And since you've been hurt so badly, I waited to let you know that we buried Bubba for you, in the cemetery by that old Oak tree he liked so much."

  Dicken's couldn't talk. He'd been avoiding talking about Bubba and the women knew it hurt him deeply. "Thanks for that Reverend, he'd have liked that. Sorry I couldn't be at his funeral. But soon as I heal up, I'll visit him there."

  Annie and Kate looked at each other. They both knew how much Bubba and those hogs meant to Dickens.

  "I'm truly sorry Mr. Dickens." When Dickens didn't lift his head, the Reverend glanced at the women. "Well, I better be going." He finished his coffee and turned toward the door.

  "Have you heard anything of them getting the cat yet?"

  "No," he turned his tall lanky frame to the women now and put his hat on his head. "But Calvin Moore was killed a few days ago. Another boy was injured, he's at the doc's now. One of the Smith's boys."

  "That's terrible." Annie cried.

  Kate shook her head and a tear escaped down her cheek. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

  "No, right now, the cat is still loose and it's best if everyone stays in their homes until he is caught." The Reverend said.

  "Yes, I guess you are right about that." Annie nodded. "Thanks for coming by to let us know. And take care going home."

  "I will. Dickens, I hope you heal up good."

  "Thanks." Dickens nodded.

  "My husband and Wes Dolan are out looking for the cat too."

  "Almost every able-bodied man is right now. I was asked to check up on everyone that I could. You ladies stay inside as much as you can."

  Annie nodded.

  When he left Dickens was silent for a long while. Annie seemed disturbed too. Kate took the cups and washed them.

  "The boys have been gone two weeks now." Annie mumbled.

  Kate tried to console her, even though she feared for them too.

  "Don't worry they'll get that cat." Kate assured her.

  "I wish I could get out there with them," Dickens mumbled. "Poor ole Bubba, he was one of the best friends I ever had. I'll sure miss him." Dickens got up and walked to the window to stare out. "I hope they get that danged cat and get him good."

  Kate came up to him and put an arm around him, "They will, I'm sure of it."

  "I'm gonna lay down for a while now. I'm kind of tired." Dickens told her.

  Annie and Kate stared at each other. "Everything that old man cared for is gone now." Annie cried. "It must be a horrible feeling to know that."

  Kate swallowed hard. "They just have to get that cat and soon. You know I really need to get that hay raked and gathered." Kate told Annie.

  "You can't. You can't be out in the open like that. That cat might come back."

  "But he was all the way across town the last anyone heard." Kate objected.

  "No, you've got to stay here until they come back. Besides, raking hay is hard work and it would take you forever. Just wait on Wes." Annie told her.

  "Life can't stand still because of that cat." Kate fussed as she stared out the window.

  Annie took her by the shoulders. "You can't go!"

  Kate frowned but relented, "I guess you're right. I'll wait a while longer. I don't mean to be difficult. I just keep thinking I have to get to work and finish taking care of the hay."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two days later the men trudged home. When Mr. Tate came through the door, Annie, Kate, and Dickens were all sitting at the breakfast table.

  Annie got up and ran to her husband hugging him tightly. Kate stood up but didn't move. She couldn't. Her eyes locked onto Wes hungrily.

  He stared back, and then he bro
ke out in a big grin. That grin did things to Kate, things she hadn't expected. Her heart was pounding in her chest and putting her hand on the table she steadied herself to keep from running into his arms.

  Both men had scrubby looking beards now, and their eyes spoke of the lack of sleep too, Kate noted.

  "Sure smells good in here." Mr. Tate smiled.

  "I got bacon, eggs and biscuits." Mrs. Tate informed them.

  "Sounds great!"

  "Did you get the cat?" Dickens asked when Kate and Wes didn’t say anything.

  Wes glanced at Dickens a moment and nodded, "Yes we did!" he declared with a heavy sigh.

  Kate was still staring, her lips trembling with a slow spreading smile. The smile on Wes' face brought sunshine into the room.

  "That's wonderful," she said breathlessly.

  Annie turned to see Kate and Wes staring with such intense expressions and she grinned. "Well, come on, sit down, have some breakfast and tell us all about it." She encouraged.

  The men put their guns down, and washed up, then joined them at the table. Mr. Tate sat at the head of the table and the only other seat left was right across the table from Kate, so Wes sat down, his gaze fixed on her.

  Even though he drank his coffee and helped himself to the food, his glance rarely strayed from Kate.

  She blushed.

  "Well, okay boys, let's hear the story." Dickens insisted.

  "The story?" Wes glanced at him.

  "How'd you catch him?"

  Mr. Tate cleared his throat. "Well, since Wes killed him, I'll tell the story."

  Everyone chuckled.

  "We'd chased that cat all over the territory. Although Wes and I stayed pretty much to ourselves, we did stumble upon several others in the process, some were drinking heavily and we did our best to stay clear of them, as it's just too dangerous."

  His wife reached for his hand and smiled. Kate noted that Mr. Tate didn't seem to mind her displaying some affection.

  "The cat moved around so much it was difficult to get a location on him. But he left reminders all over the place, five men were severely wounded by that damn cat. Three were killed. That just made us all more anxious to take that cat down. We finally managed to pin him down as we deliberately tried to divert him into a trap. There's a canyon where there is no out, and we got him backed into a corner. He screeched and he climbed, and he jumped all over the place trying to find a way out of there. But there was no way out unless he could jump us. Knowing we had him and could lose him if he got past us, I became the bait and just as the cat lunged for me, Wes leveled him with both barrels. He fell dead about ten feet of me."

  "My God, you could have been killed." Mrs. Tate made a face and took his hand in hers.

  "Well, we knew we had to do it, honey. And one of us had to be the bait. Wes is a much better shot than me, so I agreed."

  "What if he'd missed?"

  "The way he was standing, he couldn't miss. It was a dead shot. Wes got him in the head and the heart. He was dead when he hit the ground."

  Wes glanced around, "I hated him being the target, but he insisted on me doing the shooting."

  "Why?" Mrs. Tate asked.

  "Because honey, I knew Wes could get him, it was as simple as that. After all, when you are facing a killer, you have to have nerves of steel. Wes is more the hunter than I am. At the angle he was standing and where the cat was perched, I knew he could get the best shot."

  "I'm glad I wasn't there, I'd have been scared to death," Mrs. Tate shook her head. "And thank you Wes, for getting rid of that murdering cat."

  "There was a lot of pressure on me, Mrs. Tate. But I wasn't going to let your husband die." Wes told her. "I was determined enough by then that if my gun had jammed or anything, I'd just lunge for him and hope your husband could get a shot at him."

  Mrs. Tate smiled at Wes.

  Kate was staring at him too.

  "I ran into Frank Campbell out there too." Wes told Kate.

  "Really?" Kate blushed again.

  "Yeah, he had three of his best men with him."

  Mr. Tate shook his head, "Yeah, but he hadn't a clue which way that cat had gone. Let me tell you, this boy is a tracker, and I'm glad I was with him and not some of the others."

  "Have you hunted much, Wes?" Mrs. Tate asked.

  "Yes ma'am, sometimes it's the only supper I get." He smiled.

  "Then I'm glad my husband was with you."

  "They got the rest of my hogs, Wes." Dickens told him.

  Wes frowned, "I heard. We took the carcass in to the Sherriff, they hung him in front of the livery for all to see. I'm sorry Dickens."

  "Just glad you finally got that murdering cat." Dickens shook his head.

  Wes studied Dickens a minute. "How are you feeling?"

  "Much better, the ladies took real good care of me. I can get around, although it might take some time for me to be up to snuff." Dickens told him.

  "I asked him to come stay with us, so he could mend better, and I could see to him if he needed me." Kate told him.

  "That's a good idea."

  "Guess I don't have anything now to rush home about, do I?" Dickens chuckled.

  "I guess not." Wes said quietly.

  They sat in the kitchen for some time talking about things that happened as they tracked the cat. The women cringed to hear the full story.

  Annie and Kate did the dishes and the men all sat around watching them with smiles on their faces. "After an adventure like that, I'm glad to be home." Mr. Tate told Wes and Dickens.

  "Yeah, it makes you appreciate home, doesn't it?" Dickens chuckled.

  "Sure does."

  Later that day, Dickens, Wes, and Kate headed for home. Although Kate had borrowed some clothes from Annie during the time she spent there, she put her own clothes on to go home. Wes had some kids from town go out and feed the stock while they'd been gone, so the animals were taken care of.

  As Dickson got off the wagon, he stared out at the crop. "Looks like we're all gonna have to work to get the rest of the hay in, and the field ready for planting in the spring."

  "Are you up to helping?" Wes asked.

  "I don't see why not." Dickson replied. "Give me another week and I'll be right there with you."

  "Alright, we'll talk about that later. I'm gonna check on the stock."

  Moby came up behind Wes and as he went outside, Moby went too.

  "Well did you see that?" Kate asked Dickens.

  "What's that hon?"

  "Moby followed Wes out. It's almost as if he missed him or something."

  "Didn't you?"

  She thought about it and nodded.

  "I'll get us some supper started." Kate told him.

  Dickens followed Wes out to the barn. He helped Wes feed the animals and check on things.

  "She's got a right nice place here," Dickens smiled.

  "Yeah, if she can hold on to it." Wes told him.

  "How many acres she got?"

  "Three hundred and sixty I think." Wes told him.

  "Say, she was pretty worried you wouldn't make it back from that cat hunt." Dickens told him.

  "Worried? About me?" He frowned.

  Dickens made a slight face, "Well, you are the only one that's been helping her out here, and she knows she can't do it alone. Naturally, she was worried."

  "I can take care of myself," Wes declared.

  "She ain't never seen how good you are at tracking cats, though. Every day she'd go to the window and stare out for the longest." Dickens declared. "Hey, I ain't asked but have the Smith boys been over here?"

  "Not that I know of, they were out chasing the cat too." Wes told him. "I'm beginning to think she doesn't need my protection, Dickens."

  "Well, that's only 'cause she ain't' been home and neither have they." Dickens told him.

  "You know I should be moving on soon." Wes told him.

  "Who's gonna plow the fields for her?" Dickens asked.

  "Maybe I should scout around and get h
er some help out here." Wes told him.

  "Getting antsy to travel?" Dickens asked.

  "I don't usually stay this long." Wes told him.

  Dickens dropped the subject and they walked back to the house.

  Later after supper Dickens went to bed early and Kate walked outside after doing the dishes. She thought Wes had retired too.

  She looked out at the hay that needed tending and knew she had a daunting job ahead of her. She shook her head.

  "Something wrong?" Wes asked right behind her.

  She turned to look at him and suddenly she went into his arms. Wes didn't know what to do with his hands. "I'm so glad you weren't hurt by that cat." She cried, snuggling her head against his shoulder. "I was afraid you'd be hurt."

  She cried real tears, and he instinctively pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her now.

  "Just glad it's over with." He murmured. "Before anyone else got hurt."

  When he didn't push her away, she cried harder.

  "Hey," he murmured softly. "It's okay now. You don't have to worry about the cat any longer."

  She sniffed and raised her head. He handed her his bandana. She blew her nose hard. He chuckled. But the tears wouldn't stop, and he pulled her back into his arms.

  "It wasn't the cat I was worried about."

  He pulled her tighter but didn't say a word. She cried for a long time and he just held her in his arms.

  "I can finally cry about Jim now." She blubbered.

  "That's good. It means your putting him where he belongs now and accepting the fact that he's gone." Wes whispered into her hair.

  She felt his lips brush the top of her hair and she closed her eyes. "Yes, I guess I am."

  "Now you can get on with your life, again."

  "Yes, but I've got a lot of work to do too."

  "I'll help you… "

  "Yes, but for how long? And when you get ready to leave, what will I do then?" She whispered. "I've come to depend on you, in so many ways. I shouldn't. I should know better."

  "Well, that's natural. I'm your hired hand." He said huskily.

  "I-I think of you as more of a friend than a hired hand, Wes." She cried.

  "Well, thank you… " he said lowly.

  In his arms she felt so protected, so safe. But he wasn't committing himself to her and she realized that quickly. Perhaps he merely saw her as his employer. She thought of him much more.