Loveland

by Andrea Downing

  The wind got up again and it looked like rain in the distance and she thought how Jesse actually liked the rain “because it made the flowers grow” and provided for the earth.

  Jesse. What now?

  Were Annie and Bea right, or was it finished between the two of them? Or should she just go and tell him she’d been wrong? Or had she been wrong? Alex could not decipher her feelings anymore. The only thing she felt right now was hurt, and a burning desire to be left alone once and for all.

  The sun came out for a moment but the clouds were scudding, which meant the weather would change soon enough. What sounded like a hammer reverberated through the air. She looked around and saw some of the men in the distance fixing the fences. An indefinable sadness swept over her. Their world had changed, their lives had changed so much since that storm. The trails were closed now, the open range finished, the ranches brought in to manage. It wasn’t progress, it was simple adaptation in order to cope with the changing world. It angered Alex that so much beauty, so much freedom was now gone.

  The hammer echoed again and she looked to see Tom waving. She started Ranger toward him but the sound came again and she realized it wasn’t the hammer this time but a shot. Looking around, she saw the eagle in free-fall toward the earth and started off at a gallop in the direction of the gun.

  “Alex!” Tom chased after her. “Alex!”

  She came into a broad expanse of pasture past some trees and pulled up, suddenly aware Tom and Jesse were both right behind her.

  “Over there.” Jesse pointed.

  There were three horses, one with a sidesaddle, which puzzled Alex for a moment until she saw the riders. English. Someone’s guests, no doubt. Two men smartly dressed in hunting tweeds and a woman in proper ladies’ riding attire, veiled top hat and all. Alex rode up, the men behind her.

  “Good afternoon,” one of the Englishmen called pleasantly. “Looks a bit like rain.”

  “Did you take that eagle down?” Alex dismounted, her voice deceptively agreeable.

  “No, my daughter here did. Jolly good shot, don’t you think?”

  Alex gave the woman a smile and held her hand out for the gun.

  “It’s a Purdy,” the woman said in her cut crystal voice. “They’re from England.”

  “Yes, I know.” Alex kept her tone pleasant. She looked the shotgun over, checked it was no longer loaded, then took it by the barrel and swung it smartly into a tree, CRACK!

  “Now, wait just a minute!” the man began but both Tom and Jesse had drawn their Colts.

  Alex checked the next one wasn’t loaded and swung that, too, smashing the barrel from the stock. She put her hand out for the gentleman’s next but he held it tight, cradling it against his chest.

  “Just what in the world do you think...?”

  “The gun,” said Alex quietly. “You’re trespassing. Hunting on private property. You’re on my land and—”

  “Those guns are worth over three hundred dollars apiece!” the older man asserted.

  “I know,” replied Alex calmly but threatening. “I own two myself.”

  “You’re English!” the woman noted with surprise.

  The younger man, the woman’s husband, had been quiet all this time, just leaning back against a tree taking this all in. “You’re the Calthorpe woman, aren’t you?” he asked at last.

  “That’s right.” Alex put her hand out for the older man’s gun. She grabbed it from him before checking if it was loaded, then she bashed that, as well, into a tree.

  “You’re crazy!” the older man said. “I’ll get the law out here!”

  Tom and Jesse both smiled broadly. Tom said, “This is the law. She owns the property. You’re trespassing. You’re darned lucky she didn’t blow your heads off.”

  Alex was now looking over the fourth gun as if she were considering keeping it. “On second thought,” she said, taking a good swing into the tree. She threw the pieces down. “Where’re your guns?” she asked the younger man.

  “I don’t hunt. It’s my wife’s sport,” he said looking Alex up and down.

  “Good! Then I’ll just take the derringer you’re hiding up your sleeve.” She held her hand out for the small gun. There was a moment’s hesitation in which Jesse’s gun clicked behind her. The husband rolled back his cuff and removed the derringer, dropping it into Alex’s hand. She gave it to Tom. “I’m not good at throwing.”

  She looked back at the three trespassers. “That was a golden eagle you took down. They generally have a wing span of about seven feet and can fly at great speeds. I’d rather see any one of you dead than that bird. Now get the hell out of here before my friend here accidentally but conveniently lets his gun go off.”

  She gathered Ranger’s reins and pulled herself up, then sat there watching until the three rode off.

  Jesse looked over at her. “You feel better for that?” he asked.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Over the next few days the men would spot her in the distance. Alex rode the fences to see her property as it was now, started some drawings to get her hand back in, and tried to come to terms with how she felt about Jesse leaving. She was one week down.

  Spring round-up was underway, and although it was a much reduced affair with far fewer Reps around, it was still round-up. There was late calving going on too, since late snowstorms had postponed some breeding, and the men were riding from rounding up to the cows still giving birth. Alex came up to a group of them down by the creek. Cal was there with the new man who’d complained about working for a woman.

  “What’s happening?” asked Alex getting off the horse.

  “We think it might be breech,” said Cal frowning. “Gonna lose one or t’other.”

  “We need small hands,” said the new man.

  Alex tied Ranger to a tree. “What’s your name?”

  “Coates.”

  “Coates, huh? You don’t like working for women?” She squatted, not expecting an answer, pulled her gloves off and tossed them aside, then took off her silver cuff and threw that into the pile. Then she rolled up her sleeves. “You have a wash?” she asked. They handed her a bucket with the wash in it. She splashed it up her arms and on the cow, then reached into the cow, feeling around. “One leg is back. It isn’t breech.” The men stood by as she manipulated inside the cow, then brought the cupped hoof forward in her hand.

  Jesse rode up. “What the heck is going on?” No one answered. They all looked at Alex. “You know what you’re doing?”

  She stared back at him. “Do you think I’d be sitting here like this if I was...” The cow lowed and the calf inside her moved. “Tom taught me, remember?” She turned back to the cow.

  Jesse raised a questioning brow to Cal who just shrugged.

  Suddenly Alex shouted, “Pull!”

  Cal grabbed the calf as it came out covering Alex in all the mess of a birth.

  She stood up and assessed herself while the men finished up and got the calf to its mother. “Can you take my belts off please?” She stood stiffly in front of Jesse, arms out to the sides. His eyes widened. “Your fingers won’t burn, Jess. Just take the goddamn belts off, please, so I don’t get my gun wet.”

  “You sure your pants won’t fall down?” There was a smug look on his face as he gingerly opened the buckles at her waist.

  “My hat, please. Off,” was her reply.

  When he had lifted her hat from her head, she stepped on her boot toes and pulled her feet out, then marched down to the creek and dove into the chilly water.

  Jesse stood there, his hands on his hips, waiting. He waited some more but there was no sign of Alex coming up, and then, as he was about to run to the bank, she reappeared, turning her head side to side to shake water out of her hair. She pulled herself out by some branches and marched back. A shock of desire ran through him as he took in her wet clothes clinging to her body, her breasts outlined by her shirt. He knew that body, had loved that body, but knew there was something different, not just t
hat she was so much thinner, but she had changed somehow.

  Shivering, Alex quickly rolled down and buttoned her cuffs before stooping to pull on her boots, then pick up her hat and gun belt. Lastly she slipped the silver bracelet on her wrist.

  “You don’t like working for women, huh, Coates?” she asked the new man again.

  “Yeah, well.”

  “Well, welcome to the Faringdon.” She climbed up on Ranger and rode away.

  ****

  It bothered Jesse overnight.

  He had never wanted anything or anyone the way he wanted Alex. He knew her, he knew what motivated her, what ran her, the way she thought. He knew the way she looked and the way she moved and the way she pushed food around her plate. Alex was the family Jesse wanted, the best friend, sister, the mother who looked after him, and the lover he desired. Alex was the ranch and his world. Since she was eight years old they had had a bond, a bond he thought was stronger than blood ties, more than friendship, greater than love. Now something was changed, something was lost and he had to find the missing piece or it would be lost forever.

  He went to see Annie, holding his anger inside him like a rotten fruit he couldn’t digest. In truth, he told himself, he understood why Tom and Annie hadn’t told him, if they knew. Surely they knew. Alex would’ve said—if he was right about what he thought had happened.

  Annie was hanging wash outside as he rode up. “I was wondering how long it would take you.” She pegged another shirt to the line, moved her basket along, then stood looking up at him. “You want coffee?”

  Inside, he sat and put his hat on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Annie put the coffee down in front of him and sat opposite. “It wasn’t for us to tell you, Jesse. You know that. Anyway, we thought she would write. We thought the letters would eventually get through, that she would tell you.” He looked at her without expression. “I think you have to go and discuss this with Alex, Jesse. I’m not the one to be talking ’bout this.”

  He never replied nor touched his coffee but picked up his hat again and left.

  ****

  Alex was in the house discussing with Kenny, the new ranch carpenter, how three of the old servant’s rooms on the top floor could be turned into a better studio for her. She heard Jesse with Wilson in the front hall, and asked Kenny if he could call another time. Leading him downstairs, she stopped at the top of the final landing and watched him go out as Jesse stood there looking up at her. She walked down the stairs slowly then went into the study with Jesse following her and closed the door behind.

  “I won’t ask why you’ve come.” She seated herself behind the desk. “It’s obviously not ranch business, is it?”

  “Why, Alex? Why didn’t you tell me? I had a right to know. It’s my child too.”

  “Yes, well.” She played with some paper on the desk for a moment, folding it and unfolding it again. “How could I tell you, Jesse? In a letter? I couldn’t do it. It was something that needed to be said in person. Then when I hadn’t heard from you, I decided you didn’t care and therefore…well, I didn’t tell you.”

  “I had a right!” he repeated, slamming his fist into the wall.

  She stared at him for a moment. “What was I supposed to write, Jess?” she asked quietly. “‘Dear Jesse, you might like to know I had a baby that died.’ Or perhaps later, ‘I realize you hate me since you haven’t bothered writing so you’ll be happy to know I lost our baby...’”

  “Stop it!” He slammed the wall again. “How ’bout the letters that went, ‘Only you make me happy. Nothing else matters.’”

  “Yes, when you bothered to write!” She fumed at him for a moment, then calmed down. “I don’t know what happened with your letters any more than you do. All I know is I-I lost two…fathers, I was alone six thousand miles away trying to sort out the ranch, trying to find out about my mother, trying to find out who I was, and having a baby at the same time, hiding away in that great house, knowing David was buying off people so there would be no scandal. And you weren’t there, you weren’t writing, and as far as I was concerned you had opted out of any rights you may or may not have had. Do you think—”

  “Do you think for one moment I wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to go there, to be with you, if you had just said? Do you think I didn’t want to be with you? You tell me, Alex, for one moment, just think on it, do you really believe I wouldn’t have dropped every last thing here and gone to England had you but asked? Scrounged any dime to be with you?” He stood there, as if the wall were holding him up, his eyes burning at her. “Jeez,” he said at last, “do you know what lovin’ you is like?” He put his hand on the door.

  “It was a boy.” She spoke as if it were a secret still. “It was a boy. I went full term and then…I don’t know, the doctor said he strangled.” She put her head in her hands. “I named him Oliver Calthorpe Makepeace and he’s buried in the family vault. David didn’t stop me. There was no one to stop me.” She started to sob.

  Lightning flashed outside suddenly before heavy rain hit the windows. A late afternoon summer thunderstorm was clearing the air, refreshing the plants, and giving energy to everything living. Jesse stood there looking at her, his own eyes pooling, unable to help her but listening to that thunder outside and the rain beating against the panes for a solid minute, then stopping almost as soon as it had begun.

  Alex pulled her hankie out at last and wiped her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Because of letters, Alex,” he barely uttered.

  “Three.”

  ****

  Alex packed her things into the saddlebags next morning, left Tom a note as to where she was going and went to saddle up Ranger.

  Cal came in to the stables. “Taking off?” He propped himself against the next stall.

  “Day off?” she asked as she busied herself with the tack.

  “Nice bracelet,” he continued.

  “Are we playing a game here, Cal? Guess the answer, or something? What is it exactly you want? Shouldn’t you be out on round-up?”

  “Jess sent me in for some things.”

  “Then get them,” she practically ordered, throwing the saddle on Ranger’s back.

  “You and I used to be good friends.”

  “What is it you want?” She stood at last facing him. Yes, they had been good friends. Was she going to lose everyone now, everyone she had ever loved, cared about?

  He reached for her left hand, but she pulled it back. “I had a sister once. Went to live over in Kansas, married a man while she was still down in Tennessee and they decided to move up to Kansas. Couldn’t take it—life in the cow towns weren’t for her...”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. I didn’t know.” Alex started to cinch up Ranger’s saddle.

  “Had them same markings on her wrist after the first time she tried it.” Alex stopped. “I want you to tell me there ain’t gonna be no second time, Ladilex.” He waited but there was no answer, no movement. “Dang foolish thing to do when so many people love ya. You, I’ve known since you were but eight year old. Jesse I’ve had as a brother since he were fourteen. I don’t want to see neither of you hurt.” He stared at her a long moment. “Jesse know?” She looked away and shook her head. “I want yer word here.” He waited some more but there was no movement. “He’s gonna find out at some stage. You know what that’ll do to him? You better come up with some good explanation, you know.” Alex took Ranger’s reins and started to lead him out of the stable. “I mean this, Ladilex. You promise me here and now there ain’t gonna be no second time. I may be nothin’ more than a-a good for nothin’, uneducated puncher, but I know what’s what ’roun’ here. You give me your promise, now.”

  Alex was at the door. She had Ranger behind her and turned back to face Cal. “You’re such a good friend, Cal. Really you are, but…”

  She never finished the sentence. It was all too much. She just left.

  ****

  There was a new homes
tead up at Boyd, though the old camp was still there, its door hanging off, the room damp and smelling of animals. Alex decided to trespass in the new house. If someone found her on their property it wouldn’t really matter if it were the house or the camp so long as she didn’t steal anything.

  The inside wasn’t quite finished. There was a large brass bed, which surprised her. Why would something so fancy be in a hunting cabin? The table and chairs were of a polished wood, while the kitchen had an indoor pump. She had expected something far more basic, rustic; this looked like a home. It reminded her of the Homestead except it was single story with the bed in an alcove opposite the kitchen, and only a small fireplace catty-cornered onto the main room. She dumped her things, looked about and set up her easel outside. The dilapidated camp was interesting now, worth a painting certainly, with so many memories attached.

  Those memories played through her head as she worked through the day. She would find her eyes wet and herself just staring at the camp, then she would suddenly come back to life and resume the painting. Sunset took her by surprise with its failing light and she realized she was being bitten by the mosquitoes off the lake, and a chill had set in with the cool evening air. She reluctantly packed her things to go inside for an early night, eat her bread and cheese and get into her bedroll.

  A clatter woke her. The gun was on the floor by the bed but, half asleep, Alex lay there listening: the spurs, the movement that was unhurried but competent and knowledgeable, not unfriendly nor menacing. She opened one eye, squinting into the insistent mid-morning light.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked Jesse.

  “I knew you wouldn’t eat ’less someone cooked for you.” He lit the fire. “You do know you’re trespassing, don’t you? Could be shot.”

  “I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

  She pulled herself up and he could see she was wearing her chemise and knickers but nothing more. He stood in the kitchen and started to gut a trout. Alex stomped into her boots and went out the door.