Dorothy Garlock

by This Loving Land

  “Sit with me.” He sounded bone-weary.

  “If n you eat this.”

  “I’ll eat.”

  She sat beside him. He ate the food quickly and emptied the cup.

  “Guess I was hungry. Any more coffee? Sit still, I’ll get it.”

  When he returned, he sat quite close to her and, to her surprise, picked up her hand and held it enfolded in his. After a while he spoke.

  “Guess you’re wondering about me and . . . Ellen.”

  “Well . . .” His words had taken her by surprise.

  He set his cup down and took her hand between both of his, playing with her fingers.

  “I don’t know if anybody would understand it but me.”

  “I’ll . . . understand.” Sadie held her breath. Was she too bold? Had she lied? Could she understand?

  “It’s a long story. Maybe too long for one telling, but I want to tell you about it. I never told it before and I’m not sure I can make anyone understand how it was. You’d of had to lived like I did to know how it was.” He leaned over with his forearms on his spread thighs, her hand clasped in both of his, and began to talk.

  “I’m from over around Nacogdoches. I never did know how I come to be dropped off with folks that worked on Ellen’s grandpa’s place. They were the white trash that worked alongside the slaves and had a whole houseful of kids. One more didn’t make no never mind.” He drew in a deep breath and leaned his head back against the house. “When I was real young, a woman used to come to see me. I can just barely remember. She was pretty and smelled nice and I’d sit on her lap. It was the bright thing in my life. It didn’t last. She stopped coming. I looked and waited for her until I started looking and waiting for Ellen. I can’t remember when I first saw Ellen. She lived with her grandpa in a great big fancy house. They were among the uppity-ups and didn’t have no truck with the likes of us, but Ellen took to coming down to the shanties. She would smile at me, pat my head, and soon her visits were all I lived for. She got to bringing me a treat once in a while, and I longed to think she was coming to that dirty place just to see me, but I knew she wasn’t. She was coming to see the older boys, and I think now some of the men. I was about ten years old, and doing a man’s work, when I found this out. I tried to beat the kid to death that told me and got a whipping from the old man that put me on my stomach for days. Ellen came storming into the shack when she heard I had got a beating for fighting for her, and threatened to tell her grandpa if I was beat again. It was the most wonderful thing that had happened to me. Ellen stood there protecting me, standing up to the old man, then washing and dressing my sore back. I loved her from that moment on.

  “It wasn’t long after that that Ellen stopped coming to the shanties. I didn’t see her again until I was about fourteen. I’d left the shack where I was raised, but strings pulled me back to the only home I’d ever known. The old folks were gone, the kids scattered, and the shack was burned. Ellen’s grandpa was dead, and she was a rich lady and married. When I heard she had come back to sell the property I waited beside the house for two days just to get a glimpse of her. I couldn’t believe it when she walked up to me, remembered my name and talked to me. I thought she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. To me she was an angel, everything my heart desired. She filled my thoughts so completely, I would have died for her had she asked me. Well . . . she sold her property and went away again. I went to drifting. It’s a hard life, drifting, when you’re a kid. I had hell beat out of me so many times that it got to be a regular thing. I finally got big enough and tough enough, so I was able to fight for myself. But just being able to make my way wasn’t enough. It kept eating at me that I had nobody. Nobody, but Ellen.” He lit a smoke and Sadie wondered if he was finished, but he started talking again.

  “I got mean. I got mean as hell. Got to where I’d fight at the drop of a hat. People kind of backed off from me, tried not to rile me. I kept to myself; driftin’, always driftin’. Looking for God knows what.

  “It was about five years before I saw Ellen again. She was in a carriage and had a young boy with her. I’d just come into Nacogdoches after working on a riverboat, and I went charging down the road after her. The driver was going to use his whip on me, and if he had, I’d of killed him on the spot. Ellen knew me right away and asked me to come to the hotel to see her.” Jesse gave out what was a half-laugh and half-snort of disgust. “I was in heaven. I got myself all slicked up. Had a bath at the barber shop, spent my last dime on new clothes and boots. The room she was in was the fanciest room I’d ever seen, and Ellen was the prettiest woman I’d seen. Just as pretty as I remembered. She had supper sent up for just the two of us and told me her husband was dead. She told me about the Rocking S and offered me a job. That was twelve years ago. I’ve been with her ever since.” He let go Sadie’s hand and rolled another smoke. “I know what folks said about me and Ellen. I didn’t care. Ellen had strong . . . desires that most women wouldn’t understand. She needed me, just as I needed her when I had no one who cared if I lived or died. She wasn’t perfect, but I loved her.” He was quiet and finished the smoke, flipped it out into the night and said with wonderment, “I never had any idea she’d do what she said she did. Guess I was about as blind about Ellen as she was about Travis.”

  Sadie sat spellbound while he talked. She understood his feelings. They reflected her own longing, the yearning for something permanent, the wanting to belong. Her compassion made her bold.

  “You’ve got me now, Jesse. If you want me.” She could feel his sharp eyes searching her face in the darkness. She waited in agonizing silence for his answer.

  His arm came around her and pulled her tightly to him.

  “I want you, Sadie.” The words were whispered against her ear. “Oh, God, yes. I want you.”

  “I love you, Jesse,” she said, with tears in her voice. “I ain’t much, but I love you so much it hurts me . . . but it’s a hurt I like.”

  “Sadie. . . .” He raised his head and looked at her. “Sadie, you’re everything. You and Mary are everything. I’ve saved my wages, and it’ll give us a start.”

  He kissed her gently, lovingly, yet possessively. His arms held her protectively and she snuggled against his chest. She had come a long, lonely way through the years, as Jesse had done, but now she had found home, safety, someone to love and someone to love her.

  Summer awoke. Night had come. She came awake fully aware of the events of the day. The house was silent and dark except for the low burning lamp on the mantel. Ellen was dead, she knew it at once. No sorrow touched her heart for Ellen, and no regret for Travis. He had done that terrible thing to Slater . . . Slater! Oh, God! How can I ever think of him as . . . brother?

  Her face was wet with sweat where it had rested on her arm. She washed it matter-of-factly and tidied her hair from habit. Her stomach protested the fact she had not eaten all day, and propelled by yet another habit, she went to the warming oven for cornbread and to the crock for milk. The food went down automatically. She looked behind the curtain. Only Mary was there. Taking the lamp, she climbed the ladder until she could see into the loft room. The small shape of her brother was on the bunk.

  At that moment, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She was leaving her little brother! He was her child in every sense of the word except by birth. He was her reason for coming here. Since the day he was born she had cared for him, taught him, never stinting on love and devotion. Here, in this place, he had grown wings, learned to depend on her less, expanded his knowledge by leaps and bounds. This was the place he should be. Slater would see to his education. Someday, he would be in a great university, teaching others. At that time, she would know she had done the right thing by leaving him behind.

  At the door of her room she paused, holding the lamp out to the side so she could see. Ellen’s body lay on her bed, the outline clearly visible beneath the sheet. Ellen had been going to take her with her in the morning. Now she would go alone.

  Calm
and dry-eyed, she was returning the lamp to the mantel when the door opened. She turned quickly, guiltily, suddenly fearful of whom she must face. Sadie came in, followed by Jesse. Jack followed close behind. Summer avoided his eyes and looked at Sadie.

  “Is your head better? You was sleepin’ so sound I was a hopin’ that when you woke up your head wouldn’t a be a killin’ you like it was.”

  Summer looked from the men to Sadie and understood her line of talk. She was helping her to produce an excuse for her absence.

  “It’s not much better, Sadie, but the sleep helped.” It astonished her that she could speak so calmly. She looked directly at Jack. “Did Slater sleep most of the day? Teresa said he would.”

  “Off and on, I guess. Teresa said he et stew like his stomach was stuck to his backbone. He was frettin’ if’n things was all right over here. Ain’t tol’ him the whole of what’s happened yet. Reckoned tomorry would be soon e’nuff.”

  “He should be much stronger tomorrow.”

  Jack stood first on one foot and then the other.

  “You told him about the soldiers?” Sadie broke in speaking fast. “You told him they corralled the whole wild bunch? That ort to make him feel just jim-dandy, considerin’ t’was them that did that to him.”

  “Yup, I told him and he swore he was goin’ to kill Travis. I had to tell him it was already done. He swore again. Now all he talks about is Miss Summer and why she ain’t over there.”

  “Well, she’s dead tired, is what she is. She didn’t get no sleep a’tall last night, with all that’s been goin’ on. Well, for land’s sakes, she ain’t strong as no horse. I . . .” Jesse placed a hand on Sadie’s shoulder and stopped her sputtering words.

  Summer smiled wanly, tiredly. “I feel better now, Sadie.” She suppressed the shiver of dread as she met Jack’s eyes. “It’s too late to go over tonight, Jack. Tell Slater we’re all right and to stop fretting. Can’t Teresa give him Bermaga’s powder?”

  “Wal, yes, but he be buckin’ and not wantin’ to take it.”

  Summer managed a small laugh and watching her, Sadie thought her heart would break.

  “Tell him I said to take the powder and quit being so mule-headed.”

  “I’d better be gettin’ back. I’ll tell him what ya said. Kind of want to hit the bunk myself. Anythin’ I can do for you, Jesse?”

  “No, but thanks, Jack. We’ll be leaving at first light. I’ll bring the wagon back first chance I get.”

  “Ain’t no hurry. Ain’t no hurry a’tall. Need any help with . . . Mrs. McLean?”

  “If it’s all right with Summer, I’ll leave her be till morning.”

  “Of course it’s all right, Jesse. And Sadie and I will do the box real nice.”

  After Jack left, the tension eased somewhat. Summer stood holding the back of the chair. The new intimacy between Sadie and Jesse had not gone unnoticed. Summer was aware that Jack noticed it, too. Jack had been on the verge of falling in love with Sadie. She hoped he wasn’t hurt by this sudden turn of events.

  Sadie was nervous. She moved too fast, talked too fast. She was as easy to read as a book. She sped around the kitchen, first filling the stove and putting on the coffee pot. Summer stood by the chair and waited. Jesse sat at the table. Finally, it came out.

  “I had to tell Jesse.”

  “Sadie! You promised. . . .”

  “I had to, Summer. There ain’t no way you can leave here in the morning without Jesse’s help. You know you can’t go a ridin’ off by yourself.” Sadie’s pixie face was twisted with a plea for understanding.

  Summer put her arms around her and Sadie hugged her in grateful relief.

  “You’re right, as usual, Sadie.” She sat down at the table and looked into the steely-gray eyes of the man who had always frightened her a little. He looked like the same man, but somehow his eyes were kinder. She had expected to see censure, rebuke, disgust or pity. None of those things were there. “I’ll be grateful for your help,” she said simply.

  “I’ll drive you in the buggy. We can say you’re going to the buryin’. It’s the only thing I can think of. We’ll leave an hour before dawn. It’ll give us time before they’re all a stirring.”

  “I’ll be grateful,” she said again. “I want to be gone and get it over with.”

  “It’ll make it easier on you.”

  Long after the stove had cooled and the coffee pot was empty, they sat at the table and talked. Summer was reassured by Jesse’s attitude. She was doing the right thing, he said. He only wished she had family or friends to go to. He promised Sadie he would see her safely to the Mormon settlement. Summer promised Sadie she would write. Both women cried.

  At the ranch house Jack gave Slater Summer’s message. He had been forcing himself to stay awake until Jack returned.

  “She’s all right?”

  “Yeah, just tired. Had a killin’ headache accordin’ to Sadie. She’ll be over first thing tomorry. You better let Teresa give you that powder like Summer said.”

  “Tell her to get it,” he said dejectedly. “Might as well sleep.”

  He closed his eyes and Jack tiptoed out. A feeling that things were not quite right settled on him, but he was too tired to think about it, and headed for the bunkhouse.

  Sixteen

  Summer never looked back once she climbed into the buggy. She sat in the corner of the soft, leather seat, keeping her eyes straight ahead, and was only vaguely aware when the buggy springs yielded to Jesse’s weight and he was beside her. He flicked the reins and they moved out. The wagon carrying the bodies of Ellen and Travis fell in behind them, Tom’s and Jesse’s horses tied to the tailgate.

  Leaving had put such a strain on Summer that she felt faintly ill with weakness. Sadie had burst into tears at the last minute, and begged to be allowed to come with her, and John Austin had come down the ladder to stand mutely perturbed. Watching her with solemn, puzzled eyes, he made no attempt to approach her.

  Summer had awakened her brother and explained she was leaving. She didn’t say how long she would be gone, but that it was necessary for her to go without him. He was to mind Sadie and do the lessons Slater would assign to him. She would write to him, she said, and he was pleased that he would be getting a letter. When she was about to leave him he almost dumbfounded her by asking:

  “Have you got trouble, Summer? If you have, me and Slater will take care of it.”

  Summer laughed before she would cry. “Of course not. But thank you.” She hugged and kissed him and instead of wiggling away as he usually did, he returned her kiss and clung to her for a moment.

  It was going to be a warm day. That was only one of the reasons Jesse wanted to get an early start, another being he wanted to be well ahead of the soldiers when they headed out with their prisoners. And foremost, he wanted to leave before it was necessary to explain why he was leaving with Slater’s intended wife.

  It seemed unreal to Summer that she was sitting in Ellen’s buggy, leaving McLean’s Keep. She tried to keep her thoughts away from Slater. She needed time to get used to the idea that she couldn’t love him. A few months ago, she would have been delighted to know she had a . . . relative. A lump rose up in her throat that she found difficult to swallow. She wouldn’t think about it now! She would think of something else, anything. See the beautiful sunrise, she told herself. There’s a rabbit, and isn’t that a mockingbird that’s singing?

  Before she knew it, her thoughts were back at McLean’s Keep. She wondered if Sadie would be convincing when she announced that she had gone to attend Ellen’s burial, she wondered how long she would wait before she gave the letter to Slater. She had promised to give her time to be far, far away. Oh, Slater, dar—No! No! I can’t think it, I can’t say it, anymore. I must not think of him . . . that way!

  A shiver passed over her when she realized how alone and unprotected she would be once Jesse left her. It seemed that McLean’s Keep and everything dear and familiar was dropping away into the distance behind her
, and the more it receded, the more vulnerable she felt. Soon, she would have no one at all. Soon, she would have nothing except her own strength and wits to aid her.

  The sun was up, and neither Summer nor Jesse had said a word. By the time they left the hills and were on the plain, the sun was far above the horizon. The trail was overgrown and full of holes and jagged pieces of sandstone, which Jesse skillfully avoided. The horse plodded on into the heat of the day. A dead possum lay beside the trail, its body grotesquely bloated. A snake slithered into the grass in front of them with startling speed and disappeared. Summer could not still the revulsion the scaly, diamond-patterned creature aroused in her. The only sound to disturb the eerie peace of the prairie was the jingle of the harnesses and the thump of the horses’ hooves.

  Sitting beside the silent Jesse, Summer stared up into the sky. It soon split into layer upon layer of floating white clouds, and she could feel them enveloping her. It was a familiar feeling, like a summer day of her childhood. It was a time for not being attached to anything.

  “Better put your hat on. You’ll get a touch of sun.”

  She wished Jesse hadn’t spoken; it spoiled the silence. Obediently, she put on her hat and, as if suddenly remembering he was there, turned to look at him. His eyes were squinted against the sun’s glare and his face was wooden. Her heart and mind had room for compassion. Poor man. Enslaved by his love for Ellen all these years. He must have known the kind of woman she was. Yet he loved her and accepted what crumbs of affection she chose to give him. Now, he was free to love Sadie, and she, Summer, was the one enslaved by the results of love.

  Midmorning, Jesse stopped to talk to Tom and to tie his horse to the back of the buggy. After that, Tom veered the wagon off onto another trail and they continued on toward Hamilton.

  “It’s good of you to do this,” Summer said. “I know you want to go on—want to get on with the burying.”

  “Tom will start things and I’ll be there by evening. We’ll go on to the Mormons.”