Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series)

by Martin Cogburn

  Jason inhaled deeply. The smell of burnt hair filled his nostrils. He let out his breath in a long sigh. “She said they suspect Misty may have set this whole thing up.” Tyler frowned like that couldn’t make sense. “They found an account of hers, just hers,” he added. “It had over twenty-thousand dollars in it. I knew nothing about the money. Susan said when their grandmother passed away, they each inherited fifteen thousand. She died last year. I never heard about the money.” Tyler frowned to himself thoughtfully.

  “What’s worse,” Jason continued, “is she bought two one-way plane tickets and two passports for Mexico… also something I knew nothing about.”

  “Wow,” Tyler spoke as his eyebrows raised and his head bobbed back slightly in disbelief. “No wonders you got drunk.” He looked inquiringly at Jason. “But what about your dream? – You know, wolves, sheep, and Misty and all.”

  “Probably just a stupid dream.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Jason felt like just shrugging it off. Give some lame phrase that made it sound like he hadn’t been crushed by the news. Instead, he sighed deeply and said, “Climb. The tickets are for the day after. Maybe if I climb, she’ll see that I’ve, um, you know, changed.”

  “Changed?” Tyler questioned.

  Jason was silent for a moment. “I tell you what,” he spoke dryly, “you tell me all of your worst mistakes and deepest regrets, and I’ll tell you mine.” Tyler didn’t answer; he just looked down and busied himself with the task of administering the shots into the loose hide at the calf’s neck.

  A wave of guilt came over Jason. They let the calf up. “Sorry,” he spoke as they stood. “It’s just…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “It’s just a lot, you know? I don’t even know how to function anymore.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tyler said with an understanding nod. “You’re handling the news better than anyone could expect.”

  “Thanks man,” Jason said, a bit of relief seeping in. “It was so much simpler when I thought she’d been kidnapped.”

  Irwin came trotting towards them with another yearling. “Life’s a complicated thing,” Tyler spoke evenly as he grabbed the tail of the calf.

  Jason grabbed the rope and they both pulled. “That’s for sure,” he agreed after he fell to a seated position, securing the yearling’s hind legs.

  And so the day went until early that afternoon. Every calf they had gathered that morning had been branded… except for one. It was a pretty decent sized bull calf. Again and again Irwin tried to get close enough to heel the little bull, but each time it evaded him. Finally, he just tossed the loop from a distance, right around the calf’s neck.

  “Uh-oh,” Tyler said. “This should be interesting.” Jason looked at him wondering what the proper procedure was in such a situation. “Every man for himself,” were the words of comfort the big cowboy offered. “We take ‘em down however we can.”

  As Irwin drug the young bull to them it began pulling sideways, running in their direction. Tyler plowed into the yearling first, grabbing it by the head, trying to twist enough leverage on it to cause the calf to lose its balance and fall. About that time, Jason plowed into the side of the upset critter as it came towards him… direct impact. All of the wind seemed to evacuate his lungs as he bounced off the young bull’s side and slammed into the ground a split second before it crashed over the top of him.

  Gasping for breath, Jason struggled to his feet, astonished that he was still in one piece. Before him the battle still raged. Man verses beast… and the beast was still winning. Tyler was on the opposite side of the calf from Jason with its head still twisted in a headlock.

  Jason raced forward to do battle once more, hoping the fact that Tyler had the yearling’s head twisted the same way it was running would make for a little easier takedown. He charged after them for all he was worth and again slammed in to the young bull’s side… this time with better results. It stumbled and crashed into the ground… right on top of Tyler. “You knocked ‘em down on me,” the tall cowboy said with a groaning shout, sounding more than a little bit upset.

  “Hey, it’s every man for himself,” Jason replied as he tried to secure a tight hold on the flopping critter. “Remember?”

  Tyler grunted in response as he struggled his way out from beneath the front half of the young bull, obviously remembering the remarks he’d made a few short moments prior. Once out from under his heavy burden, Tyler piled into his place on the front half as Jason took his position at the back. Then Irwin turned lose his dally, giving Tyler the opportunity to loosen the loop around the calves neck so it could breathe easy again.

  Rye walked over with the hot iron and stuck it to the thrashing yearling’s side. “And there is the final stamp of approval,” he said with a voice full of satisfaction as he lifted the brand, white smoke curling up, the strong smell of burnt hair filling the air. “Any nubs?” he asked Tyler.

  “Don’t think so,” the tall cowboy replied as he felt around on the calf’s head. “Nope. Let’s make ‘em take his medicine, and he’ll be good to go.” After Tyler administered the shots, he pulled the loop lose and laid it out flat on the ground, ensuring they wouldn’t have to chase the calf around, trying to get the rope off his neck.

  Irwin, sitting close by on his horse, spoke. “When you boys get up, step over here and let me get my horse between y’all and that cantankerous critter. He may want to fight.”

  Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened. When Jason and Tyler leapt to their feet, so did the young bull. Irwin got his horse between the cowboys and the beast as it whirled around to face them. The fact that an animal twice its size stood before him didn’t seem to faze the young bull. He charged into the horse a few times, but neither horse nor rider seemed to get real excited over it.

  While the yearling was preoccupied, Jason followed Tyler as they ran over to an iron fence and climbed up on it to safety. Irwin took a quirt from a clip on his saddle and wacked the angry bull on top of the head a few times. That was enough encouragement to inspire its return to the others.

  The cowboys let the herd out before returning to the barn. Rye began grilling several of Irwin’s steaks as the others got all the gear together and loaded on fresh horses and the mule. Jason had managed to work up a bit of an appetite, and after they’d all eaten and thanked the cook, they swung into the saddle and headed for the north section.

  Several hours before dark, Jason sat on his horse, gazing down on some of the most beautiful landscape he’d ever laid eyes upon. Steep hills and sloping valleys were stretched out before him, tall majestic pine trees sprinkled throughout the scene. Behind him was an enormous corral with an assortment of different sized holding pens inside.

  “We’ll camp here,” Irwin instructed. Fresh grass grew tall within the pens, and a nearby windmill pumped water to an inside trough at a slow trickle. “Unload, unsaddle, and just turn the horses lose inside the corral,” he ordered. “They’ll have plenty of grass and water.”

  Shortly before sundown, as the last bit of light was fading from the western sky, the men gathered around the campfire and watched the flames as they danced about, shedding flickering light on the saddles, gear, and the two tents that the men had assembled, one on each side of the fire. Jason looked away from the flames, and after a few moments of his eyes adjusting away from the firelight, something caught his eye.

  “Is that a house down there?” he asked, turning back to the men.

  Irwin looked up from the task of preparing a dinner of steak and beans. “Yes, it is,” he replied like it was no big deal.

  It was a big deal to Jason. “What’s a house doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” he asked again, now more perplexed than ever.

  “No one lives there,” Irwin responded, returning to his task.

  “Whose is it?” Jason asked, feeling as though he’d come no closer to getting a satisfactory answer.

  “Maggie’s,” Irwin replied without
looking up.

  “Maggie’s?” Tyler scoffed. “See that fence between here and there? That’s federal land.”

  “The government may claim it,” Irwin said solemnly, “but it will always rightfully belong to Maggie.”

  “Did she used to live there?” Jason inquired.

  “Yeah,” Tyler said with a smile, “like a hundred-and-fifty years ago. Some say she’s still there… waiting to help women who are down and out.”

  “Just like she once did,” Irwin added. “She called the place Eden House. It was the one place around here that women knew they could come and get help if they needed it.” He paused for a moment before he continued. “It was in the mid-eighteen-hundreds, back when the big gold rush was on in this part of the world… back when men would traipse off to seek their fortune, many times leaving their families to fend for themselves. That’s what happened to Maggie’s husband. He left her for the gold fields. She had no one, no money, and no hope.”

  Jason came back to the campfire and sat down across from Irwin who sat in silence for a moment, watching the smoke disappear into the gathering night, before he continued, “She did some things she wasn’t proud of, Maggie did. Did some things no woman should be proud of… just trying to keep from starving to death.” He shook his head as he stared into the fire. “Then one day she met a local preacher’s wife – learned about Jesus, redemption, and salvation. Soon, she became a Christian and quiet her old ways. She scratched out an honest living doing whatever honorable job she could get… and by honorable, I don’t mean she didn’t get dirty. After seeing her hard work and determination, I believe the Good Lord gave her a vision – Eden House – a place for lost and forgotten women to come and find rest and peace.”

  He paused for a moment before going on. “It took a lot of hard work but, finally, she gathered up enough financial support from local and distant churches to buy this Eden House she’d envisioned. Even then, it took a while to find a house that was big enough to support her dreams with a price low enough to make them possible but, eventually, that’s exactly what she did,” Irwin said as he glanced down towards the big abandoned house.

  “What made this one cheaper?” Jason asked.

  “It was rumored to have been haunted… even before Maggie,” Irwin said looking up at him. “The man who owned it before her disappeared, never to be heard from again. Never been found, not even his body, so you can understand how that would turn most potential buyers away. But it didn’t Maggie. No sir. She moved in, set up shop then began making her way around the towns in this area, letting people know she had created a place of refuge for women… women that were in the situation she’d once been in – beaten down, starved, and ashamed. She took them and gave them a new life. She taught them about the love of Jesus by showing them the love of Jesus.”

  Up until that point, Rye had sat silent and motionless by, listening to every detail, but seeing the storyteller seemed to be finished, he said, “You sure know a lot about this lady.”

  “I should,” Irwin replied solemnly. “If it wasn’t for her, I might not have ever existed.” He looked over at Rye as he continued. “She took my great grandmother and her daughter, who was my grandmother, into Eden House after my great grandfather was killed in a mining accident. I remember as a child, I’d set in my grandmother’s lap and listen as she told me stories of growing up in the Eden house. She sure did think a lot of Ms. Maggie.” He sat quietly for a moment. “It’s almost like she’s still there,” he added in a hash whisper as he turned and looked at Eden House.

  His words sent a chill up Jason’s spine. “You think it’s haunted?” he asked cautiously.

  “What do you think?” Irwin asked, never breaking his gaze away from the old house.

  “I don’t believe in ghost,” Jason scoffed nervously.

  “You want to go down there and look around?” Irwin asked, turning to Jason, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  “Uh no,” Jason was quick to reply. “Not tonight.” Everyone laughed. “What about you?” he asked Irwin. “You believe in ghost?”

  Irwin smiled. “Persistent aren’t you?” he asked before taking a moment to sigh in contemplation. “I’ve been down there before,” he said in a quiet voice. “I don’t know for sure what it was, but there was something odd – some strange feeling came over me when I set foot in her yard. I don’t know if she actually haunts the place… I’m not even sure I believe in that kind of thing.” He exhaled sharply. “It was just so full of memories… but not my memories.” He paused for a moment, seeming to be deep in thought before he went on, “I could almost hear women laughing… children playing. I felt joy and happiness… but in a strange and almost lonely way.” He thought for a moment before adding, “Emotions – joy, happiness, anger, sorrow – they live on even after the souls that they possessed go on. Maybe that’s all ghost are… the remnant of someone else’s memories.”

  Irwin sat silent and thoughtful for a little while, stirring the beans absent-mindedly, lost in some thought. Finally, his eyes seemed to refocus as he looked into the pot. After scooping a spoonful out to give it a taste, he said, “Beans are warm and steaks are done. Grab a plate. Bring it over. I’ll fill it up.”

  Jason stood and gave Eden House a long study before prying his gaze away to grab a plate. For some odd reason, he felt drawn to the old house. After getting a scoop of beans, Jason forked one of the steaks off the little rack that straddled the fire. Moment later, he bit into the juicy cut of meat and indulged in the full taste of beef steak. Meat never tasted so good. The atmosphere only made it richer, sitting around the campfire listening to the other cowboys swap stories about the wild horses they’d rode, fightin’ bulls they’d roped, along with any other story that involved narrow misses and close calls.

  After supper, Jason lay quietly by the fire, drinking in the conversation of the others, whishing he too had some wild cowboy stories of his own to tell. Oh well. Maybe here in a few years. Finally, Irwin stretched and said, “You boys can stay up as long as y’all want. I’m going to bed.” He looked around at the guys as he added, “We got two tents and four people.” He paused for a moment, in case someone needed to work out the math, before asking, “Which one of you boys is the least prone to snoring?”

  “I don’t snore,” Tyler said confidently.

  “You don’t?” Rye asked with a laugh.

  Tyler straightened up, looking slightly offended. “I most certainly do not,” he spoke indignantly.

  “Well man,” Rye chuckled, “if you don’t snore you need to sleep with one eye open ‘cuz somebody comes into your room and makes an awful racket every single night!” The young horseman turned to Irwin. “I can hear him at night, and he sleeps across the hall from me… so I’m hearing him through two walls!” he stressed, holding up two fingers.

  “I have never heard myself snore,” Tyler argued.

  “You wake yourself up snoring,” Rye laughed. “You’ll snort real loud then I’ll hear you wiggling around in bed. You have no idea what woke you up… once you even yelled at me to ‘quit making so much racket,’” the young cowboy said in a deep voice while wagging his finger, obviously doing his best impersonation of a grumpy Tyler before humorously adding, “I wasn’t making any racket!”

  Tyler laughed good-naturedly and threw up his hands, signaling defeat as he said, “I guess I snore,” like it was news to him.

  Irwin looked at Jason. “What about you?” he asked.

  “According to Misty, I’m a snorer,” Jason admitted.

  Irwin turned to Rye, “What about you?” he asked.

  “Nobody’s ever told me I snore,” the young horseman said with a shrug.

  “Well, that makes you the best bet then,” Irwin said, acting gloomy, but a hint of humor shone in his eyes. “Rye’s with me in my tent, and you two grizzly bears can snore it out in the other.”

  After Irwin disappeared into his tent, Jason, Rye, and Tyler sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing into the
campfire each lost in his own thoughts. A short time later, Tyler stood up and stretched before grabbing his sleeping bag as he said, “See you boys in the morning.” With that, he crawled into the other tent.

  “Yep, I’m gone too,” Rye said with a groan as he rose to his feet.

  “All right, man. See you in the morning,” Jason said as the young cowboy grabbed his bedding and disappeared into his tent.

  And then Jason sat alone by the fire, the flames dancing in his eyes. Misty would have loved this. She seemed to adore all things pertaining to nature. Maybe if he’d gone on trips like this with her, things would be different. He couldn’t count the number of times she had tried to convince him to go camping… but he had always refused, mainly because he had no idea it was this much fun. There were the rollercoaster-kind of fun moments, like when he and Tyler had to take down the young bull that Irwin had roped around the neck, and then there were moments like these… moments when, regardless of your circumstances, you feel a warmth and peace like you didn’t think possible.

  Finally, Jason drew himself from the snuggled glow he had cocooned his mind into. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his bedroll and cast one final look off in the direction of Eden House before crawling into the tent and laying his bedding down beside Tyler’s.

  Sometime during the night, Jason awoke with a start, his heart pounding. What was that awful racket? He rolled over and looked at the man in the sleeping bag beside him, identifying the source. Tyler lay on his back with his mouth wide open, snoring… very loudly. Thoughts of disturbing the slumbering giant entered Jason’s mind but quickly turned around a left, driven off by the more powerful thoughts of the slumbering giant being very angry over the intrusion.

  About that time, Tyler snorted and jerked… then he started mumbling. Guess he was awake. Jason rolled over a little closer, listening intently.

  “I’ll shoot you!” the big cowboy screamed as he began flailing about in the sleeping bag that was wrapped around him.

  Jason rolled to the other side of the tent, sleeping bag and all, trying to avoid being caught as an innocent bystander in the battle between Tyler, the demon in his dream and his sleeping bag. “Tyler, Tyler, easy man. It’s me. It’s me… Jason,” he spoke, trying to bring the big cowboy out of his dream and into the present. “Wake up. Tyler, wake up,” he said getting louder.