Ride The Wild Range

by Cheryl Pierson

  I felt like Jacobi had some misgivings about taking on another mouth to feed, but Laura – she'd loved Deelie Ray the minute she saw her. So there wasn't any question about Deelie Ray staying here. And Deelie Ray loved the babies so much she didn't even want to go to school, but Laura insisted.

  I wasn't sure what to think of Deelie Ray. But Jacobi wasn't pleased right now, and I figured it had more to do with the fact I hadn't said anything to Deelie Ray as we rode off. Maybe he thought it was rude. And maybe I didn't care. I was mad at the world right then, and especially peeved at myself for forgetting to grab that dang fence rail and put it back in place. Then, I was mad at Deelie Ray for remembering. It didn't make sense. But I knew I was jealous, and I didn't like myself very much right then.

  "You cut over that way," Jacobi said, pointing to the right. "I'll meet you at the creek."

  I figured that's just where James Fenimore Cooper'd run off to. He loved the woods about as much as the real Mr. Cooper must have. Every time he ran off, we found him down this way just enjoying the scenery around him, calm as you please.

  It wasn't any different today. He was standin' by the creek just watchin' me as I rode up. He whinnied at his mother and she answered him, sounding for all the world like she was givin' him a good talkin' to.

  I got down and took a piece of rope I'd brought to slip over his head. He gave me kind of an ornery look.

  "Fen," I said. "I don't want no trouble out of you, now."

  Fen was one of those horses that had his own mind. Sometimes, he'd let you slip a bridle on him, and sometimes not, even if I had a piece of apple for him. Now he took a couple of steps back from me, but I walked up to him like I'd seen Jacobi do a hundred times; confident, like I knew Fen would hold still. And this time, he did.

  I breathed deep and let it back out slowly as I led him over to his mama, and looped the rope around the pommel of the saddle. One of these days, Fen was gonna get out at night, or when we weren't looking. We had to figure out a way to keep him safe.

  I started back away from the creek, and caught sight of Jacobi coming through the woods from the south. He held up his hand, meaning for me to keep quiet, and I saw he was looking on past me farther up the creek bank. I glanced up that way, following where his gaze had gone.

  Four men were packing up their camp gear and loading it into a small wagon. They had not seen us yet, but I'd been with Jacobi long enough to know that he was always aware of everything around him. He came up close to me and we sat in silence, watching the way the men moved with precision. One of them cleaned up the pans and dishes in the creek from their breakfast, then put them into a canvas bag. A taller, lanky man saddled their horses and tended to them, obviously getting ready to break camp and head out.

  One of the travelers, clearly the man in charge, stood aside watching the proceedings as the fourth of the group tried to arrange things in the wagon.

  I glanced at Jacobi. His lips were turned up in a half-smile as he watched the three men working quickly and efficiently to please the fourth, who stood to the side, his head held high. Without having spoken a word, I could tell he was a judgmental person, used to having his way, and accustomed to being obeyed.

  He must have felt us watching him, for with no warning, he turned around fully and faced us. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I'd never seen this man before, but there was something joltingly familiar about him. It took me the space of no more than ten seconds to recognize this stranger as an older version of my father; another ten to understand just who I was looking at...my grandfather, Robert Green, magnate ship builder, from Boston, Massachusetts.

  Chapter 27

  Jacobi saw something too – probably the shock that I knew registered on my face. He put himself between me and the group of men, riding forward. I sat where I was, like a statue.

  Part of me wanted to ride right up to my grandfather and spit in his eye. In that instant, I blamed him for every bad thing that ever happened in my life. If he hadn't been so harsh, maybe Papa wouldn't have felt like he had to leave Boston and make his own way out West. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten killed. Maybe Mama and Lisbeth would've been safe—

  My fists clenched, my heart pounding hard in my chest with all the thoughts that flooded me. But I stayed put, just like I knew Jacobi meant for me to do.

  I let Miss Elizabeth Bennett move forward a few steps where I could hear better, just as Jacobi drew up near the camp.

  "Hello, sir," my grandfather put his hand out to Jacobi.

  "Jacobi Kane," Jacobi said.

  "I'm Robert Green."

  They shook, and Jacobi's gaze swept the camp.

  Grandfather saw it and smiled. "We're breaking camp – is this your land, Mr. Kane?"

  "Yes, but you're welcome to camp here."

  "Well, thank you, but we must move on."

  "Where are you headed?"

  My grandfather gave Jacobi a shrewd look, as if deciding whether or not to end this game of cat-and-mouse. Finally, he said, "I'm looking for my grandson. I was told he might be living nearby."

  I closed my eyes tightly. I was not going without a fight. I'd run away. My grandfather couldn't just show up and expect to take me back to Boston with him. I had my own life, here, and though I was still a few years off from being my own man, I had myself a plan already for when that time came.

  Meanwhile, I had two little brothers and a sister to worry about helpin' with, and now there was Deelie Ray too. I couldn't leave Jacobi and Laura. They depended on me. They were my family now – not this stranger from Boston. I'd heard the saying, Blood is thicker than water – but I wasn't sure that was true every time.

  And at thirteen years old, I reckoned I could make my own decisions about where I belonged. It dang sure wasn't back East with a family I didn't know.

  Maybe if I left – turned away from the camp and rode back home, all this could be avoided. Jacobi could take his leave and bid them a pleasant trip, and we could go back to our own lives.

  Just as I was prepared to turn Lizzy away from the men and say something about getting Fen back home, though, Jacobi motioned me to come forward. "Will, come here, son."

  He was about to turn me over to my grandfather. My heart sank like a stone, the disappointment, hurt and anger all warring with one another. I made my face expressionless then shook Lizzy's reins to get her moving.

  I reached to untie Fen's rope. If I had to make a getaway now, I could. And holding the rope prevented me from having to shake the old bastard's hand. If need be, I could drop the rope and turn Lizzy around in a flash. I knew these woods well, and I could be gone before my grandfather could say scat.

  But evading Jacobi would be quite a different matter. It would be impossible.

  I glanced at him, reading in his expression that he knew exactly what I was thinking, as he always seemed to. There was a questioning look in his eyes, mixed with a bit of disbelief and a healthy dose of humor. But I didn't discount the warning I saw there, for an instant. There'd be hell to pay if I disregarded that.

  I drew Lizzy to a stop a few feet from where Jacobi and my grandfather stood.

  "I want you to meet my son Will, Mr. Green." He gave me a steadying look, as if he knew I'd been thinking he'd betray me. At that moment, even more than I feared the unknown, now that my grandfather had actually come looking for me, I worried more at the flash of disappointment in Jacobi's eyes as they met mine.

  My grandfather stepped forward and put out his hand. It would be rude not to shake. Jacobi took Fen's rope from me to allow me to do just that. Even though it was the very last thing in the world I wanted. I hated him.

  "Hello, Will. You've the same name as my grandson."

  My heart almost stopped. But, the tone of his voice was only friendly, carrying no hint of suspicion or challenge. I nodded.

  Jacobi laid a hand across my shin and gave it a squeeze.

  "Nice to meet you, sir." I looked him right in the eye when I said it, almost daring him to reco
gnize me, and to acknowledge who I was. But he only smiled. It was like looking into my father's eyes. Blue as the ocean my father loathed so much. I wondered if my eyes revealed the same family resemblance. Quickly, I glanced away.

  "Where are you headed, Mr. Green?" Jacobi asked again.

  Away from here, I hoped with all my heart, as Jacobi asked the question with genuine interest.

  "I only just arrived yesterday." He walked the few steps toward the wagon, resting against it, as if standing was too much for him. "It's been a long journey, but we're here now." He gave a wry smile. "In answer to your question – I'm not sure."

  "Why don't you camp over near the cabin? At least, until you figure out what you're going to do about finding your grandson."

  "But—" I couldn't help it. The protest rose in my throat as bitter as bile before I could stop it.

  Jacobi's hand tightened over my leg, and I cut off the rest of what I'd been about to say.

  My grandfather began to cough, and one of the men nearest him handed him a flask from the front seat of the wagon. He drank a sip, then another, managing to quell the coughing fit.

  I saw Jacobi's eyes narrow briefly and knew he was taking the measure of the man before him.

  "Don't – don't want to trouble you, Mr. Kane." The old man swiped a hand across his mouth quickly, as if the coughing made him angry.

  Jacobi shook his head. "No bother. My wife would enjoy hearing about your travels, I'm sure."

  Well, that part was true enough. Laura had always wished she could travel. She'd helped me catch up with learnin' to read, so I wasn't so far behind in school, when I'd started. Now, I was the best reader in the whole school. Laura said books could take you places you'd never be able to see in real life. I reckon she was right, on account of now that she had the triplets and Deelie Ray to think about, she probably never would get to travel anywhere at all. Me and Jacobi could take care of ourselves, but everyone else needed lookin' after.

  "Well, all right, then," my grandfather replied. "We don't want to be a bother to anyone."

  "You won't be." Jacobi grinned. "Laura might put you to work. Now that our babies have gotten to the walking stage, it keeps all of us hopping just making sure they're not getting into things."

  "How many children do you have, Mr. Kane?"

  "Five," Jacobi answered without hesitation. "But three of them just turned fourteen months old. Triplets."

  Grandfather's mouth rounded. "You're blessed, Mr. Kane. Triplets...that doesn't happen often."

  The man in the back of the wagon jumped down, coming to stand beside him, looking at me with a flash of appraisal in his eyes that disturbed me, somehow.

  "Doc said it was a first for him to deliver them," Jacobi said.

  "You're ...fortunate to have the two older children to help."

  Jacobi nodded. "Don't know what we'd do without them, that's for sure. But they help because they want to. It'd be a damn sight unfair to force them into it, wouldn't you say?"

  Grandfather gave a hurried nod. "Yes. Quite." His tone was clipped with the northeastern accent. My own father's speech had carried a hint of that nasal twang, and just for an instant, I felt almost as if his presence stood beside me.

  No matter how I wished Jacobi and me to be blood kin, we weren't. But there was no getting around the fact that me and my grandpa shared that bond. I wondered what had brought him so close to the truth from so far away. How had he come to land on our doorstep if he wasn't certain of who he was looking for?

  "I'm gonna head back to the place and get the fence fixed, but you all come on when you're able."

  Why was Jacobi being so danged nice to them? Fuming, I turned Lizzy toward home, reaching to take Fen's rope from Jacobi. He mounted up, saying, "Just cut through the break in the trees and head due south when you come to the road. Our place is on the right. You can't miss it."

  "Much obliged. We'll be along d'rectly," Grandfather answered as he turned away.

  I could barely wait until we got out of earshot before I exploded. "Why'd you do that?"

  "Will, keep it down. You don't know how far behind they're following."

  I couldn't believe it! Not only had Jacobi been friendly with my grandfather, the man who meant to take me away from here, he'd invited him to come camp by our home! Betrayal wrapped icy fingers around my heart, and tamped down anything else I might have said.

  Jacobi spoke quietly, "I don't know where you get your ideas, Will, but by now, you oughtta know I wasn't going to give you up back there."

  The way he said it, I knew there was no sense denying it. He'd seen my thoughts clearly. Now, I could only hope the other men and my grandfather hadn't been watchful enough to notice.

  I didn't answer him. I could hear the reproach in his voice, although he was careful to choose his words. That tone was all I needed to feel ashamed, though. It was like he thought I distrusted him, somehow. Yet, wasn't that exactly what it was?

  Not so much distrust, I tried to convince myself as we rode in silence. I just hadn't fully put my fate in his hands. I trusted him...up to a point. The line between complete trust and distrust was fainter than I'd ever imagined.

  I glanced up at him, then looked away. Maybe it was the way I'd been raised in my family those first years of my life that made me so wary of putting faith in other people. But Jacobi wasn't just another person. I felt like dirt right now.

  "Will, you've gotta learn to trust someone. I know it's not easy."

  "I do!" I blurted out, automatically defending myself.

  He drew up, stopping at the edge of the woods where we could see the cabin in the distance on the other side of the pasture and the corrals. He sat silent for a moment, and I knew he was trying to think of what he wanted to say next.

  Finally, he said, "You know I'd never hurt you. I'd never do anything to put you in a bad way. I'll protect you, however I have to. You should know that."

  Didn't I? Thoughts of the night when he'd walked right into Red Eagle's camp and saved me from the Apaches rose up in my mind. I'd never seen a more welcome sight than Jacobi Kane, wearing buckskin and moccasins, holding the Indians at gunpoint while I mounted Red Eagle's horse and we rode out of their camp together.

  And later, when Red Eagle had come after us, he'd wounded Jacobi so badly he'd almost died. .and when we'd gone after Laughing Wind's band of renegades, he and Jacobi had fought hand-to-hand, with me standing close enough to touch them both. If Laughing Wind had killed Jacobi, he certainly would've killed me, too.

  But I'd felt confidence in Jacobi, and trusted him to keep me safe. Why had that changed when my grandfather came along?

  Jacobi must be wondering too. I owed him some kind of explanation. I took a deep breath. "I'm afraid of him. He's here to take me back. I won't go! If he tries, I'll run away." I looked up into Jacobi's face. "You said I didn't have to go – until I was older—"

  He sighed heavily. "Will, I don't intend for you to go anywhere – not until you're eighteen, like we talked about. But you have to trust me."

  "Why did you have to invite him to camp by our place?" I sounded petulant to my own ears.

  Jacobi leaned back in the saddle and pushed the brim of his hat up a little. I recognized that movement very well. It could mean a lot of things, but right now, I thought it must signify that he was getting ready to explain something he felt I should already know.

  "Remember what I told you about not letting another man get behind you?"

  I nodded. I remembered it well – that was a startling lesson I'd learned many months earlier when we'd been on Laughing Wind's trail. I'd never thought of it, but Jacobi had explained it perfectly, in a way that would never leave me.

  "Yes, I remember. But inviting that old bastard and his men to settle down cozy to us ain't the same as not lettin' 'em behind us."

  Well, that made him plenty mad. His eyes turned like granite, and his jaw tightened. "Don't talk about your grandfather that way." His voice was neutral, but steely, and
I tried a different tact.

  "Papa said—"

  He made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Will – don't you think it might be a good idea to hear your grandpa's side of things before you judge?"

  "Don't see why," I answered sullenly. But I knew he was right. I'd always wondered, anyhow, since that long-ago day when Papa and I had been working in the cornfield. A kind of sad, sorry note had touched his voice when he'd spoken of how he'd like to patch things up someday with my grandfather. Maybe...maybe my grandfather was the least little bit sorry, too.

  Jacobi gave me a long steady look. I felt the flush of embarrassment stain my cheeks and neck.

  "Yes, you do, son. You know why. It won't hurt to give him a chance, will it?"

  Stubbornly, I stuck to my guns. "Yeah, it will. Reason being, I don't aim for him to find out who I am. If he does, he'll take me."

  "He'd have to prove it first. It's my word against his."

  I shook my head. "My papa came so far west to get away from him because of his power. And his money—"

  "Granted, he's got lots of those things. But he's not in good health, Will. I don't know how much force he'll be willing – or able – to put out on someone as stubborn as you."

  Jacobi reached out to lay a reassuring hand on my arm. "You've no reason to be afraid, son. He'll have to come through me to get to you. You're just going to have to reach down inside and hold on to your faith."

  "Is that all?" I asked stiffly.

  "No. Let go of your fear, Will." He said it real gentle, and I felt my eyes sting. It was a hard thing to accept, that Jacobi knew just how I felt. It could only mean one thing – that he had felt the same as me, at some point. And I didn't want to think on that.

  Anger was my best defense against understanding what I didn't want to know. I wanted to shout for him to go to hell. I wasn't afraid of an old man, a Yankee who didn't know how to get along in this rough country we called home. But I didn't say it. I didn't speak a word, because I knew what Jacobi said was true.

  I was scared down to my soul.