Joelle's Secret

by Gilbert, Morris

  “They’re charging us,” Joelle said. “We’d better get back to the train.”

  “They won’t give us any trouble.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because the fort is right there. They’re good Indians as long as the soldiers are around.”

  Joelle watched nervously as the Indians charged to within a hundred feet. They rode magnificently, and she mentioned this to Owen, who replied, “They say that Comanche can outride the Sioux, but I don’t think anybody can.”

  Joelle watched the Indians and saw that one of them had a rifle and others had bows and arrows. “What do they want?” she said.

  “I guess they just want to race their horses. They can do that until we make them stop. They think they got a right to race their horses.”

  Joelle turned to Owen, who looked sad. “You don’t like what’s happening to the Indians, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Joelle had heard Owen’s comments before and had been surprised to find out that he felt a sympathy for Indians that other men on the frontier didn’t have.

  “I spent part of a summer with them once. Got to know them pretty well. They’re just folks like we are. All they want to do is hunt buffalo and be left alone.” He suddenly pulled his hat down low on his forehead. “But they’re a doomed race, Joe. Their way of life is gone. Taken from them. That’s always sad.”

  The Indians didn’t remain long. They wheeled their horses and disappeared. Joelle didn’t speak until they were at the walls of Fort Laramie. She was eager for civilization, and as soon as Owen directed the wagons into a circle, she said, “I’m going inside and see what it’s like.”

  “I already told you,” Jump grinned. “The soldiers are inside, most of them drunk, and the Indians are outside, most of them drunk too.”

  Jump’s words seemed prophetic. Indians were scattered in their teepees thrown up outside the fort. Smoke from many Indian campfires wound its way in tall spirals and blended with the rapidly falling dusk. As they passed an Indian camp, Joelle was astonished when she saw an Indian woman take a fat, squirming puppy and strike it on the back of the head, breaking its neck. She did it quickly without a sign of remorse.

  “She killed that puppy,” Joelle said.

  “Sure did. You see a lot of that. You might even have puppy dog stew if you’re lucky enough to get invited to a meal.”

  “I would never eat a puppy!”

  “Don’t say that. I’ve seen a time when I would have given everything I had for a good puppy dog stew.”

  The inside of the fort was barren of trees. Soldiers moved back and forth, some of them the worse for drink.

  “The general store is over there, Joe. Why don’t you get what we need?”

  “You come with me.”

  “No, I’ll be around.” Joelle turned to see that Cherry was walking toward them. She wore a green dress that brought out the color of her eyes. She smiled at Owen.

  “Come on, Owen. Let’s go have some fun.”

  “I reckon we deserve it. You go on and get the supplies, Joe. Get Jump to help you carry them back to the wagon.”

  “All right.” Joelle’s reply was terse. She watched the two and then moved toward the store. Owen Majors is a fool to let a woman like that into his life.

  Owen turned and shook his head as he watched Joelle moving toward the store. “He sure is a funny kid.”

  “Why’d you pick him up?”

  “Well, I didn’t. He picked me up.” Owen related how Joe had practically saved his life, and by the time the story was finished, they reached the saloon. Cherry went in on his arm, and soon the two were seated at a table. The clientele was rough— trappers, soldiers, and some of the men from the wagon train, including Ash Landon and his entourage.

  Cherry began speaking of gold camps and asked Owen if he was excited about getting there.

  “Not really. I tried prospecting once. Broke my back at it. I could have made more as a day laborer.”

  Cherry leaned forward. “Tell me about it.”

  “Nothing much to tell. Back-breaking work. Lots of disappointments. Sounds like life, doesn’t it, Cherry?”

  “Life can be better than that. We had it better once, didn’t we?”

  He turned to meet her gaze, and something passed between them. He felt the attraction of a woman as he always had. He sat still and didn’t answer for a moment.

  “What is it you want, Owen?” she probed.

  He knew she was aware of feelings he kept hidden from others. No words could completely describe what he felt or what he wanted, and even if he found the words, he knew this was not the woman who would understand him. He wanted her as a man wanted a woman, but he could not bring himself to go back to where they had been. This woman had been everything to him once, but now as he looked across the table, he thought, There’s no backtracking. A man can’t go back and pick up where he left off years ago. He couldn’t look at her without a feeling of ownership of what had once been the most vital thing in his life. He saw in her eyes that she was his for the taking, that though they had been parted for a while, part of what they had had together was still with her. It was with him, too, but he had developed a tough wisdom throughout life and knew this was not the way for him to go.

  As for Cherry, she was falling in love again with Owen Majors. She felt a piercing regret, knowing that although they had been together once, she had let something come between them.

  The two sat quietly until Joelle entered. “Come over here, Joe. Have a drink,” Owen called.

  Joelle came over, and Owen saw that the boy’s eyes went at once to Cherry Valance, with disapproval. But Joelle said only, “I’ve got to have some more money, Owen. I didn’t have enough.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Don’t leave, Owen,” Cherry said.

  “I’ll come back. We need to get those supplies. We’ll be pulling out pretty early tomorrow.” He got up, and one of the saloon girls grabbed Joelle’s arm. “Come on, honey. Let’s have a dance.”

  She laughed at Joelle’s expression and glanced up at Majors. “Well, big man, did you bring your son with you? I got a friend that’s even younger than he is. It’d be the four of us.”

  Owen grinned and shook his head. “I have to take care of my boy. I’m teaching him to be a respectable citizen.”

  “I doubt it will take,” the girl laughed.

  Owen shook his head and said, “Come on. We’ll get the groceries. I’ll see you later, Cherry.”

  As they walked out the door, Owen was grinning broadly.

  “What’s so funny?” Joelle said.

  “That girl thought I was your pa. I kind of like that. I’ll tell you what. You call me ‘Pa,’ and I’ll see that you grow up to be like me. I’ll keep these saloon women off of you too.”

  “You’re not my pa.”

  “Well, I am in a way.”

  “You’re not old enough. Anyway, I think I’m the one that needs to keep the saloon girls off of you. Your taste seems to run in that direction.”

  Owen was surprised. He had been merely teasing the boy, and he said, “Why, Joe, a man has foolishness in him, and it’s bound to come out. I don’t think—”

  “Owen—Owen Majors!”

  Owen and Joelle both turned to see a tall, well-built man dressed in buckskins coming toward them. Owen at once let out a yelp and said, “Why, you no-good scoundrel! What are you doing here, Chad?”

  “Just waiting for the moon to change, I guess. You ain’t changed a bit, Owen.”

  Owen suddenly turned. “Joe, this is Chad Hardin. Don’t believe a word he says. Chad, this is my partner, Joe Jones.”

  “One of you two is in mighty bad company, and I expect it’s you, Joe. Glad to know you though. I’ll put you onto Owen’s pernicious ways.”

  Chad Hardin was in his early thirties, Joelle estimated. He was more than six feet tall, lean, but with broad shoulders and an aura of strength. He had auburn hair with si
lver at the temples and rough good looks that would draw women. “Glad to know you, Mr. Hardin.”

  “Well, you’ve got better manners than some I could mention.” Chad grinned. “Chad’s good enough for me.” He turned and studied Owen. “What in the world are you doing here in the middle of this sorry fort?”

  “Taking a train through to the gold camps, Chad. What about you?”

  “Well, I went trapping, but the beaver’s about gone. Guess I’ll find me a new occupation. Maybe I’ll become a dentist.”

  Owen laughed. His eyes sparkled, and Joelle could tell that he had a real affection for the man. “You’d never make it,” he said.

  “You say you’re going to the gold camps in California?”

  “That’s the rumor. Why don’t you come along with us?”

  Chad’s eyes opened. “Why, you know I might as well. You think I could get hired on as scout?”

  “I’m the scout and the guide. I’d be your boss.”

  “You’d never boss me, you son of a gun.” He turned and grinned suddenly at Joelle. His skin was burned to a golden tone. He turned his head to one side and shoved his fur cap back on his head. “I’m going to warn you about this fellow. He could lead you astray. He’s a real ladies’ man, or thinks he is.”

  “Never mind about that. Come on. Let’s go celebrate. Joe, take this money. Me and Chad’s got some catching up to do. You and Jump get the supplies.”

  “All right.”

  As Joelle left, Chad said, “He’s pretty young to be your partner.”

  “Yes, I have to look out for him. He’s at that bad age. You remember how we were when we were seventeen? Ready for anything and found trouble without looking.”

  “A golden childhood. Come on. Let’s go have a drink and tell me about this here wagon train.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE TRAIN HAD ASSUMED some of the characteristics of a small, insular town. Having grown up on the outskirts of a small town, Joelle knew the inhabitants’ propensity for gossip and how their attention sharpened and fastened on anything or anyone new. She realized that when Chad Hardin attached himself to the group, he would be the center of attention, and so he was. The young, single women were drawn to his rugged good looks, and mothers with marriageable daughters were weighing him on the scales.

  All of this amused Joelle, but she also was interested in Chad. Not because she was drawn to his looks, but because he knew more about Owen than anyone she had met. For this reason late one afternoon when the train was an hour or so from camping for the night, she pulled her horse up next to Chad, who was riding leisurely a hundred yards in front of the train.

  “Hello, Joe,” Chad smiled. “What’s for supper tonight?”

  “You’re always interested in your stomach, Chad. I guess it’ll be stew, and I may make an apple pie. I have some dried apples left.”

  “Sounds good. Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “Oh, there was an old man at our place who had cooked for harvest hands. He taught me a few things when nothing else was happening.”

  She studied Hardin, noting there was no fat on him. He was big-boned and long-armed, and his teeth looked white against his tanned skin. She noticed he had a slight indentation on his nose and wondered if it had been broken at some time. He was a fighting man, she could tell, and also, Owen had said once, in speaking of his friend, “Chad’s a whirlwind in a fight. Rather have him at my side if a bunch of Apache hit than any man I know.” She studied him silently and saw that his eyes were never still, going from point to point in the distance ahead.

  “Are you expecting Indians?”

  “Always a chance of it, but not likely until after we get through the South Pass. You ever fight any Indians, Joe?”

  “No, never did.”

  “Hope you never have to.”

  Joelle spoke with the man as the horses ambled along, and the air was full of the sounds of creaking wagons, lowing oxen, and shouting men. The sun was getting lower, and overhead a group of black birds was circling as if seeking prey.

  Finally she said, “I guess you’ve known Owen a long time.”

  “Yep. We go way back. We were partners trapping beavers on the Little Missouri. You get to know a man pretty good if you spend a season with him.”

  “Did you know him when he was a boy?”

  “No, and he never talks about that much either.”

  “It’s a wonder he never got married.”

  Chad shrugged. “Well, he came close once.”

  “Was it Cherry Valance?”

  “No. Before that. There was a woman named Irene. He was real gone on her, but she let him down.”

  “What did she do?” Joelle asked quickly.

  “Ran off with one of his best friends. It hit Owen hard. He didn’t talk about it then, and he still doesn’t. But you can still hear the echo walking around inside him if you know him well enough. Doubt if he’ll ever trust a woman again.”

  “That doesn’t seem very fair to blame all women because of what one did.”

  Chad Hardin laughed and slapped his horse on the neck. “I guess you ain’t noticed, but life ain’t very fair,” he said. “If it was, we would all be born to rich daddies. How come you’re so interested in Owen?”

  “Oh, we’re partners, you know, but I don’t know much about him.”

  “He told me how you fished him out of the snow and saved his life. Said you took care of him just like a nurse. Fed him like he was a baby. Says he probably would have died if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Joelle hesitated then shook her head. “He’d probably have made it, I guess.”

  “He don’t figure so.”

  The two continued to speak for a while, and finally Joelle turned Blackie away, saying, “I guess I’ll go back and see if Owen wants anything special for supper.”

  “Why, boy, you’re treating him like a wife ought to treat a husband.”

  Joelle flushed and knew she had made a mistake. “That’s foolish. I like to do things right.”

  “Well, I’m for that.”

  Joelle moved back past the wagons and found Owen, one of the three men heading the herd of horses and spare draft animals. She pulled up beside him and said, “We’re stopping pretty soon, aren’t we?”

  “Yep. Thought I’d just give the boys a hand here. Gets lonesome and dusty back here.”

  “Not many scouts would eat dust. They’d be out in front.”

  “Just shows what a wonderful man I am.”

  Joelle suddenly laughed. “Were you always so good, Owen?”

  “Good?” His eyes suddenly danced with humor. “I was so good I went to church every Sunday when I was just about your age. Helped old ladies across the street. Mamas from miles around came to point me out, telling their daughters, ‘That’s the kind of man you need to get.’”

  “I’ll bet!”

  “Why, you don’t think I’d tell a lie, do you?”

  “I sure do.”

  “In that,” Owen said, “you’re probably correct. Don’t believe anything you hear me say.”

  The two rode along, making conversation. Knowing that Owen would soon leave to pull the wagons into a circle, Joelle asked a question that had entered her mind many times. “Do you believe in God, Owen?”

  Owen shot her a look of astonishment. “Do I believe in God? Well, of course I do. You don’t take me for a fool, I hope.”

  “Well, you’re not a Christian man, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Why not?”

  Owen found it difficult to answer. He was quiet for a long period of time, and she saw that he was handling the reins of his horse nervously. “Well,” he said finally, “I couldn’t tell you, Joe. I came up the hard way, and you don’t find too many Christians among trappers or in the dragoons either. Soldiers and rough people like that, hard for them to find God.

  “One thing has been in my mind for a long time. I had a friend named Larry Tolliver. We worked together o
n a ranch for a while. Larry was a fine fellow, a good Christian. Kind of a rarity. Most of the hands made fun of him. He took a lot of ragging from them, and finally he got sick. Something wrong with his stomach. He got worse real quick. Suffered a lot, but he never complained.”

  A long silence followed, and finally he continued. “We all thought he was going to die, and the fellows stopped ragging him then. I remember when he died. I was with him. Most men would be bitter and scared at dying so young in such a painful way, but not Larry. He went out smiling. It’s one of those memories I’ll always have, I guess. Before he died, he whispered, ‘I’ll see you when you get to heaven, Owen.’”

  Joelle waited for Owen to say more, but he didn’t. “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does. Some folks who call themselves believers don’t have much religion except on the outside, but Larry had religion all through. Whatever he had, it was enough to take him through a mighty tough time and keep him sweet.” He broke off then and shook his head almost angrily. “A man’s a fool to live without God.” He spurred his horse and broke into a gallop.

  Joelle stared after him. She had been surprised by what she heard, and she saw there was a depth to Owen Majors she hadn’t expected.

  * * *

  SUPPER HAD BEEN COOKED, and the women had cleaned the dishes, preparing for breakfast the next day. The Townsends had played some music, and quite a few travelers had come to listen and make requests.

  The gamblers who ranked themselves around Ash Landon had played cards, as usual. They played for small stakes, and Jack Benbow had lost. He was a lean man with light blue eyes and brown hair. He wore two guns, which was unusual, for most men didn’t want to weigh themselves down. Benbow prided himself on his reputation as a fighting man but not with fists. He was too small for that, but he was lightning quick with a gun. A rumor had circulated that he had killed three men in one fight in Dallas, and he himself fueled the rumor.

  Cherry had come to sit in. She was a better poker player than most men, and she finally said, “Jack, this is not your night.”

  “I don’t have any luck.”