Thad pulled off his hat and rubbed one hand through his hair. “We really got no way of knowing. It could be him, or maybe not. Maybe we took the wrong road, back at that fork.”
“What would you have us do?” Joe said. “Turn around and go back to that fork, just on a guess?”
Matt said, “We can’t go on second-guessing ourselves. At this point, going back to the fork makes no sense. It’s over a week behind us. We go back, and even if he did take the western road, he’ll have increased his lead on us by a week. And if he didn’t, then we’ll never catch him.”
Joe said, “We committed to this direction. We’re either right or we’re wrong. We’ll never know until we catch him.”
“Or we don’t,” Thad said.
Johnny stood listening to the banter. He had talked them into the trail that bent southwestward. He had been so sure, at the time. But now he was thinking that a lot had depended on his guess.
What he said was, “Let’s keep riding.”
Bravo sensed it was time to start moving again, and he began his way along the road at a walk. The others fell into place behind him.
34
Christmas was always Ma’s favorite time of the year. Johnny had thought of her every Christmas when he was in Texas. He thought of her now, on Christmas eve, as the boys were huddled around a fire at the edge of a small patch of thin woods in southern Indiana.
Johnny filled a tin cup with hot coffee, then he gripped the cup with both hands so the coffee would warm his fingers.
He looked up at the night sky. It was clear, the way a night sky can be in the winter.
The stars filled the sky. One in particular was a little brighter than the rest, off near the northern horizon.
Matt stood beside him.
“The North Star,” he said. “Some call it Polaris. It’s the star we use to guide by, out at sea. It doesn’t change position, you see. The night sky seems to revolve around it, for whatever reason. No matter what time of night it might be, you see that star and you know you’re facing north.”
Johnny said, “I sometimes think about that night, all those years ago. Wise men, following a bright star. About to see the newborn child that would change the world.”
Thad stood nearby, trying to stomp life into his freezing toes. “You boys believe all that? I mean, I would never say anything back home. People would think too bad of me. But out here, just between us, you boys really believe?”
Joe was sitting near the fire, stirring some beans in the skillet.
He said, “Ma has strong beliefs in it. Pa always did. Them two ain’t no fools.”
Johnny nodded. It was all that needed to be said.
Johnny turned back to the sky, and the North Star, and he wondered what it might have been like, all those years ago.
Thad said, “You know, we’re almost out of food and money.”
There were only two cans of beans left. They had pooled their cash together, and had only a dollar and twelve cents.
Johnny said, “Joe and I usually shoot our supper. The beans are only for the times we can’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“The point is, it’s been two weeks since we found anyone who’s seen anyone who even looks like the man we’re chasing. So my question is, what’s next?
“What’s next?” Johnny said. “Missouri. That’s what’s next. We’re probably a day from the state line.”
Matt said to Thad, “You can turn back if you want to. We’re not.”
Thad shrugged. “I’m with you boys all the way. Missouri, it is.”
When the beans were ready, they sat and ate and then climbed into their blankets. All except Johnny. He put some more wood on the fire, and then he poured another cup of hot coffee and went to stand and look at the night sky again.
The farm was now a long ride away in one direction, and Texas just as far in the other. No matter which place he thought of as home, he felt a long way from it.
He took a sip of coffee and he thought of Ma. And he thought about Pa, the man who had stood so strong and been such a rock in his life when he was growing up. But then a gun had been fired and Pa was gone. Just like that.
He thought of Luke, who had been but a boy when Johnny rode out to join the Army three years ago, but was now a man.
And he thought about Becky Drummond and wondered if he was the biggest fool who ever lived.
35
They were surrounded with mile upon mile of low, rolling hills covered with brown grass. Occasionally there might be a small stand of trees by a riverbank, but any deep woods were now behind them. Here and there were patches of snow.
Johnny figured it was time to rest the horses a little. He seemed to be the one they turned to for leadership, so he reined up and so did the others.
They swung out of the saddle and loosened the cinches. The horses poked their noses into the brown winter grass underfoot.
Johnny was still in Pa’s coat, though it was much warmer than it had been back in Ohio. Though warm is a relative thing, he thought, at the risk of sounding like Matt. He sure wouldn’t have minded a tight cabin and a hot stove to sit by. He brought his hands to his mouth to warm them.
“Look at this countryside,” Matt said. “It goes on like this for as far as the eye can see.”
Joe said, “Some think this was all woods once, and the Indians set it all to burning to start the game running. They’ll still start grass fires for just that reason. But I don’t see how any woods could have ever grown here. It’s too dry.”
They were in Missouri. They decided St. Louis was simply too big a city to search thoroughly, but they had visited the constable’s office and told him about the man they were looking for.
Outside the constable’s office, they stood and watched the traffic moving up and down the street. Wagons, a stage coach. Riders. One closed-top carriage went by with a driver sitting in an open seat up front. He was in a black suit and a top hat.
Some of the people glanced to the McCabes, and they gave the boys a wary look.
“We look a sight,” Thad said. “These city folks don’t usually see people who look like they just crawled out of the woods.”
“We’ll never find him here,” Johnny said, “unless luck is with us.”
“Don’t seem luck is,” Joe said, “if you look at the way things have gone the past couple of months.”
Matt scratched the scraggly whiskers covering his chin.
He said, “We look like outlaws, and we haven’t had a bath since the last time we got rained on.”
“And it was sure a cold rain,” Joe said.
“We got no money for a hotel or a bath.”
Johnny was getting a little impatient. “All right. So we look like outlaws.”
“My point is, so would he, by now. He’d be in about the same shape as we are. He can’t have much money, if any at all. It would be impossible for someone looking as rough as we do right now to get very far in this city.”
“So, you don’t think he’s here?”
“There’s no way to know, for sure. But I would say no. If a man is on the run, he doesn’t want to be in an area where he’s going to stand out.”
Thad made a scoffing, huffing sound. “There’s no way to know if he came this way at all. I still think he went west, back at that fork in the road we came too, back in Ohio. He’s probably all the way to Nebraska Territory, by now.”
Johnny ignored him, but Joe said, “He’d freeze to death there. Ain’t prepared for the kind of winter they get in that land. You think winters in Pennsylvania are hard, you ain’t seen nothing like the winters in Nebraska Territory.”
Johnny said to Matt, “So, where do you think he is?”
Matt shrugged. “There are small towns, up and down the river, right?”
Johnny gave a nodding shrug. “From what I understand. I never spent much time in Missouri.”
“I say we meander along. Check farms,
and towns. Any place we come to. Just like we’ve been doing.”
Joe said, “Do we follow the river north, or south?”
Thad shook his head. “Here we go again.”
Matt said, “There seems to be more population north, doesn’t there?”
They had seen a map on the wall in the constable’s office, and took a few moments to study it.
Johnny said, “Seemed like there were more towns north along the river.”
And so they took to wandering their way north from St. Louis. They didn’t ride in a straight line, but instead explored side roads as they saw them. They found themselves sometimes as much as twenty miles away from the Mississippi River, and at other times riding alongside the river.
They stopped at every place they could find to ask about the man they were searching for. Constables offices, saloons, farms, way stations, trading posts.
Occasionally they would find a home where they could do some odd chores in exchange for a meal. One hostler at a way station let them sleep on the kitchen floor.
A man who ran a hotel in Hannibal, a bustling town along the Missouri, had just paid for three cords of wood and needed it cut. He hired the boys and actually paid cash. It was enough for them to pay for a hotel room for the night, and to get a bath, a haircut and a shave. Except for Joe. He partook of the bath, only. His hair was nearly as long as it had been when he first met Johnny on the trail months ago, and his beard was thicker than ever.
There was enough money left over to buy some more cans of beans and a couple sacks of coffee.
They left Hannibal behind and continued their way along. When Hannibal was a week behind them, they decided to turn inland and work their way south. Maybe hit the Missouri River, where it cuts across the state from west to east to join the Mississippi. The man they were hunting might very well have ridden along that river looking for work.
They continued as they had, asking about the man they were hunting. They rode up to a farm, where a man was cutting wood. He shook his head no. Hadn’t seen anyone like that riding through.
The nights were cold, leaving a frost behind in the early morning. But the days warmed up enough to be comfortable. One night they slept in a barn, and when they woke up there was an inch of snow on the ground. By noon, the snow had melted away.
As they rode along one morning, Johnny reined up and the others did the same.
“Let’s rest the horses for a bit,” he said. “We’ve been pushing ‘em pretty hard the past couple of months. If one of ‘em goes down, then we’re going to be in trouble.”
They were surrounded by old corn fields that had been harvested months ago. The land was flat and stretched for as far as the eye could see.
Thad said, “We’ve got to admit it, boys. The trail has gone cold. We haven’t found anyone who’s seen him since we left Illinois.”
Matt said, “So, what would you have us do?”
“Head back. If we ride hard, we might make it in time for spring planting.”
“I thought you were all intent on heading West. Finding gold.”
Thad shook his head. “I’ve had enough of sleeping on the cold ground, for a while.”
Johnny said nothing, and he wandered off a bit to stand and look off at the short, brown remains of the corn stalks.
Matt walked out to him and said, “So, what do you think?”
Johnny drew a breath and let it out slowly.
He said, “I don’t know. On one hand, Thad might have a point, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“No one wants to admit that.”
“It’s easy to lose track of the days, when one day is pretty much like another, but I figure it’s probably near the end of February.”
Matt nodded. “Seems about right. The calendar in the constable’s office in Hannibal indicated it was the ninth, and that was about two weeks ago.”
“If we leave now, we should be able to get back in time to help with the spring planting.”
“Is that what you really want? To farm?”
Johnny shook his head. “No. If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have told Becky to marry Trip Hawley.”
“If they went through with their wedding plans like Becky said, then they’ve been married nigh onto two months now.”
Johnny said, “And then there’s Texas. Just calling to me from the distance. And I don’t think Ma’s really expecting us back, anyway. Or, at least, she’s not expecting Joe and me to come back.”
Joe had wandered out, too. Johnny hadn’t heard him because Joe walked so quietly in his buckskin boots.
Joe said to Matt, “What about you? Do you want to farm in Pennsylvania? Ma’ll probably leave the farm to you, if you go back. Or to both you and Luke.”
Johnny said, “Or is the sea calling to you like Texas is to me?”
Matt said, “I don’t know. I guess I feel torn between what I want and what I think I should do.”
Thad had wandered out, too. He was holding back a bit, as the brothers were talking. He was showing a little discretion—Johnny thought, Will wonders never cease?
But now Thad said, “Well, we gotta figure out something. I’m hungry and cold and there’s a town up ahead a ways. I don’t want to spend the night out on these cold plains. It’s gonna be freezing tonight.”
Matt said, “We’re down to our last eight cents.”
“Maybe we can find some odd jobs. Split some wood, or something. Like what we did in Hannibal.”
Matt looked to Johnny and Johnny nodded.
Johnny said, “He’s got a point. We don’t have to make any decisions about home right now. Let’s go to that town and get some food into us and warm up a bit, and then we’ll figure things out.”
The town was Mansfield, and it was just after noon when the boys rode down the center street.
They found Mansfield to be a small farming town. Smaller even than Sheffield.
The center street had a sleepy, closed-up quality to it. A few leafless trees stood in front of boardwalks, and a wagon with a bored-looking horse was waiting in front of a feed store.
A man was standing in front of a mercantile with a broom in his hand. An apron was tied on over his pants, and a thick white mustache decorated his face.
The boys reined up.
They looked to Johnny for leadership, but when it came to speaking to strangers, Johnny passed the reins to Matt.
Matt said to the man with the broom, “Excuse me, sir. We’re just passing through, but we were hoping maybe there might be an odd job, or a chore that might need doing. Something we can do to pay for some supper.”
The man said, “The best thing you hooligans could do is ride on. We don’t want your kind around here.”
He turned away from them and stormed back into the store.
Thad said, “Well, that ain’t too friendly.”
Johnny looked at Matt and then at Joe and Thad. Their faces were covered with trail dust and a little campfire soot. Matt’s jaw and chin were covered with a thin beard half an inch long, and Thad was in about the same condition. Joe’s beard was thick and bushy, and his hair was now approaching his shoulders. Johnny figured he looked as rough as the rest of them.
He said, “We do look like a bunch of desperados. Outlaws from Texas or the Nations sometimes ride up this far north, trying to avoid the law. It doesn’t happen much, but enough that these folks might not be too friendly toward anyone looking like we do.”
Thad said, “Folks were a lot more friendly in Hannibal.”
“We’re a considerable distance further south than Hannibal.”
Matt said, “Understandable. And especially with all of the violence we’ve been hearing about in Kansas and Missouri as of late. John Brown and such.”
“I don’t care about none of that,” Thad said. “That man has canned goods inside that store. There’s no reason he couldn’t give us a little work in exchange for some of them.”
“Nothing we can do about it now,” Johnny said.
Up ahead and on the other side of the street was a sign that read, SALOON. Johnny had seen some towns where the buildings were barely more than shanties and the signs were hand-painted. But this one looked like it had been professionally painted. The letters had the look of what you normally saw in a newspaper.
“A saloon is a good place for information,” he said. “Maybe we can find out if anyone’s hiring.”
Matt said, “On a ship, it can get downright cold sometimes, and there’s nothing like a pull of rum to warm the insides. I’d bet a belt of tequila would have about the same effect.”
“For eight cents, I think the best any of us can count on in that saloon is information.”
They found the door locked. No surprise, considering it was a Tuesday, just before noon.
They decided to leave their horses in front of the saloon and split up to look for work individually. Maybe someone needed some wood split. Maybe the livery attendant needed some horses tended to.
It was late in the afternoon when they were back together, in front of the saloon. They had found no work. Johnny had checked the livery, and a man there had threatened to call the constable if he didn’t leave. Thad had gotten the same reception at a boarding house.
“I will admit,” Matt said, “I’m not looking forward to another night in the open. The last two nights have been downright cold. I would be satisfied with just a barn.”
Two men came walking toward them from the other side of the street. One was the man from the general store. The other wore a thick coat that was hanging open, and Johnny could see a badge pinned to his vest. He was cradling a shotgun in the crook of one arm.
He opened by saying, “You boys have got to ride on.”
“We don’t want trouble,” Matt said. “My name’s Matthew McCabe. These are my brothers John and Josiah, and our cousin Thaddeus. We’re not looking for any kind of trouble. We’re just passing through, and we’re looking for any odd jobs we can find that might help us pay for our supper. And maybe a barn to spend the night in.”
“Don’t care what you’re looking for. You’re not gonna find it here. Ride on.”
Johnny McCabe (The McCabes Book 6) Page 16
