by Marja McGraw
When Pete returned, we set up the mattress and sleeping bags in the living room part of the house, having moved what was left of the sofa against one of the walls. We’d discussed the bed frame and realized it couldn’t be used. Most of what was in the house was useless to us, but he said he was going to try to clean out the chimneys in the morning.
After a dinner of tuna sandwiches – we thought we should eat them before the tuna went bad – we finally sat down and took a deep breath. Bubba was up and exploring the house and he needed to eat, too. I placed his dry food in a bowl I’d found in the tall cabinet and set it in the kitchen area, along with the bucket of water.
“It’s a good thing you brought as much food with us as you did. In fact, I’ll never tease you about over-packing again.”
I smiled at him. “I knew you’d come around. Hey, what do we do about…? You know, there’s no bathroom.”
“Guess you’ll have to find a big bush. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble picking one out.”
So I walked outside and found one. I heard him laughing softly. He figured he could make a camper out of me yet. Necessity might have a hand in that, but he probably wouldn’t.
Returning to the house, I found him watching out the front window. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do about safety tonight. There are no windows, and even if there were, there’s no lock on the door.” He looked worried. I couldn’t blame him. We didn’t know what the horse rider was up to.
“Bubba will alert us if anyone comes near the house.”
“Oh, yeah. Good ol’ Bubba. What would we do without him?”
The sun disappeared abruptly and selfishly. It didn’t care if we were without lights, heat or electricity. Pete reached into a box and pulled out a battery-operated lantern, turning it on. It helped, although not a lot.
“Whatever I forgot, you brought along,” I said, rubbing his arm. “We could almost live here.”
“Sure thing. I’m glad you’re keeping such a positive attitude, but I think we’re in for some heap big trouble here.” Climbing into his sleeping bag, he laid back with his arms folded back and under his head.
“If we can get through tonight without incident, we can look into getting out of here tomorrow morning. Maybe you can figure out what’s wrong with the Jeep.”
His reply was a snore.
Turning to look at him, I saw he was sound asleep. I was so tired that I knew I wouldn’t be far behind him.
Deciding to leave the lantern on for safety, I closed my eyes and said a prayer. Having second thoughts, I turned the light out. I didn’t want the battery to die, and I certainly didn’t want to make us more visible to the mysterious stranger.
After Pete looked at the car in the morning, I wanted to explore the ghost town. After that, I wanted to start reading the books the sheriff left. I fell asleep with thoughts of adventure on my mind, not realizing I wasn’t thinking in terms of leaving in the morning.
Chapter Five
The night was peaceful and we both slept soundly, pretty much without moving. I awoke with the sun and it took a minute for me to figure out where I was. Knowing that today would be another adventure, barring any unwanted attention from the cowboy, or whatever he was, on horseback. When I sat up I saw Bubba was back in his place in front of the fireplace. The house was cold. What I wouldn’t give for a good, long hot shower, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Pete wasn’t lying next to me. Forcing myself to climb out of the warm sleeping bag, I pulled a sweatshirt out of my suitcase and checked outside. He had the portable cook stove going and coffee was brewing.
Glancing up, he saw I was watching him.
“I’ve already been up to the Jeep,” he said.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Good morning.” He grinned, but there was something in his expression that put me on alert.
“So what’s up with the car? Did you figure out why it wouldn’t start?”
“I did, and you’re not going to be happy. I’m not.” Pete can be very frustrating sometimes. He turned back to the cook stove without explaining.
“And? What’s the story?” Sometimes he needed a little prodding.
“Someone took the ignition relay, which allowed the motor to turn over, but kept the Jeep from starting. It wasn’t something I would have looked for right off the bat. And I don’t carry a spare.”
I didn’t say anything, turning the information over in my mind.
Apparently my silence made him think I was contemplating what a dope he was. “Sandi, most people wouldn’t carry an extra ignition relay with them.”
“Oh, I understand. I’m just mulling over the fact that we really are stuck here, unless that cowboy decides to give the relay back to us. And a ghost certainly wouldn’t have known what to do to keep the Jeep from running.”
He rubbed the stubble on his face. “I can’t figure out why someone would want to keep us here. I could understand if they’d stolen the car, or tried to make us leave, but not this scenario. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“If you think about it, most of the things that have happened to us over the last couple of years don’t make much sense.” I started to rub my own chin, but quickly lowered my hand when I realized I didn’t have stubble to rub.
He caught me in the act and laughed. “At least you manage to keep things light.”
I smiled.
“Okay, what are we going to do about breakfast?”
“I’m way ahead of you.” He held up a package of bacon and pointed to a carton of eggs. “We should eat these things first, before all our ice melts and we can’t keep them cold.”
“Good plan. What can I do?”
“Not a thing. I’m going to fix you a breakfast fit for a princess, and all you have to do is eat it. You’re not going to believe how much different a breakfast made out in the wilderness tastes.”
“I have to admit I’m pretty hungry.” I turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?”
“I hear a big bush calling my name.”
He laughed again as he began laying pieces of bacon in the pan. I noticed he’d brought out the cast iron skillet from the house. I sure hoped it was clean. I guess we’d find out in a couple of hours, if we ended up with upset stomachs.
While Pete fixed breakfast, I returned to the house and brushed my hair, combing it into a French braid. It was a good thing I had fairly long hair or it would probably be sticking out in every direction. With no mirror, I wasn’t sure if I looked like a small mountain man or a small pioneer woman. I remembered the cracked hand mirror in the bedroom and found it so I could take a quick look. I couldn’t see much, but it seemed I still resembled the female species.
Bubba was up and about, and had apparently found his own personal bush. He was ready for breakfast, and I filled his bowl. The bucket of water was still sitting in the kitchen and had water in it. We’d have to refill it before long. He ignored his food and wandered out to see what Pete was cooking, with his nose in the air sniffing and twitching.
Bubba kept sniffing, but he suddenly turned from the food. He was facing away from us and I knew this could only mean one thing. He took a couple of steps and I latched onto his collar, knowing I couldn’t stop him if he didn’t want to be stopped.
“Bubba smells the horse,” Pete said.
“That’s what I figured. Where are they?”
“Don’t turn around and look, but they’re up on the rise.”
I immediately turned around and gaped at the figure on the horse, and my heart skipped a beat.
He sighed. “I should have known better than to tell you not to look.”
I continued to watch, but the rider didn’t care. He sat and studied us, as I studied him. I couldn’t see his face at this distance, but I could see he seemed to be a lot more comfortable sitting in his saddle than we were on the ground. I didn’t turn away. I was fascinated that this man had some plan for us, obviously, and he didn’t care if we s
aw him watching. I took a couple of steps toward him.
“Sandi,” Pete warned, “don’t go up there.”
“I’m not. I just wanted to see what he’d do.”
“Pretty brave, aren’t you? Or should I say foolish? So what did he do?”
“He turned, casually I might add, and rode away.”
Turning back to him, I saw him pick up his gun up from the ground. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I just can’t figure out why this guy would want to keep us here. It doesn’t make any sense, unless he’s up to no good. And yet he hasn’t approached us up front and personal. I don’t get it. I don’t think he could be a ghost. I don’t think a dog could smell a horse’s spirit.”
“I don’t either, but I’m glad he’s keeping his distance. Breakfast is ready.” He picked up a paper plate and handed it to me, along with a plastic knife and fork. I could see by his down-turned mouth that he was upset about the cowboy, but I had a feeling he didn’t want me to recognize his unease.
“Let’s eat inside at the table,” I suggested. “It’s cold out here.”
“You think it’s warmer inside?”
Taking my plate into the house, I ignored him. It just seemed more civilized to eat at the table since we actually had one. When in the wild… Well, I didn’t care if we were in the wild. I wasn’t going to eat on the ground unless I had to.
Pete followed me and sat on the other side of the table. “What do you want to do today?” he asked, between mouthfuls.
“I thought we could explore the town. Maybe we can find something that will at least tell us where we are. Maybe you can try cleaning those chimneys later.”
“Okay.” He continued eating.
“That seemed too easy,” I said.
“What else have we got to do?”
“Good point. I want to start reading that sheriff’s records today, too. I have a feeling there’s a story in this town.”
“If everyone just stood up and walked away like he did, then you’re probably right.”
“Would you heat some water for me so I can at least wash my face?”
Without a word, he filled a pot from one of the tubs and headed for the cook stove.
“And you could use a shave,” I called after him.
“Not gonna happen this morning,” he called back.
I pulled one of the trash bags we’d brought with us out of the cardboard box and put the paper plates and the rest of the trash in it.
While I waited for warm water, I picked up one of the sheriff’s books. He’d written something on the cover, but it was no longer legible. Opening the cover, I saw that he’d written “Property of Sheriff Joseph Croft.” Underneath that he’d written 1879. At least now I knew his name and the year. I turned the page.
Took a prisoner down the mountain and the circuit judge would not hear the case. He said there werent enough evidence to try the man who was a thief passin through town. I have decided, with some nudgin from Annie, to keep records of everthing I am inclined to be involved in, in Wolf Creek. I aint got a lot of schoolin, so my Annie is going to help me with my writing. She is a right smart gal. Anyways, I don not cotton to embarrassing myself in front of that judge agin.
Okay, so now I knew the town was Wolf Creek and the sheriff was Joseph Croft. I wondered who Annie was. It was a beginning.
Theres not many people in this litle town to watch over, and not a one of them has done anything untoward lately, but if someone does I want to be ready. I speculate calculate theres about 107 in this town, if I count the childrun. We do not get us a lot of strangers, but they do come through onst in a great while.
I dont think anyone will ever read this exceptin me, but just in case, I will tell a bit about our hometown. Some years back a man thought he had made a great copper find here. He thought he would be openin a mine here abouts and he would make hisself rich. People followed this man thinkin he would make them as rich as those gold diggers in Califurnia. It did not happen. That feller was wrong about minin copper, cause there werent none.
But by and by people decided they liked it here an they figgered they could raise cattle. Not the best place for a hurd herd, but they could get by. A little store sprung up an we had ourselves a town.
One day a new family was passing through on there way to Califurnia. They had a young gurl named Annie. Well, they up an liked it so much here that they stayed. Now there gurl, Annie, was one sweet young thing, but she was a lot younger than me. Didn’t matter no way. We took up together an afore long we was married. That has been nigh on two years ago.
So now I knew a little bit about the town, and I knew the wedding ring belonged to Annie. I smiled when I saw that in a few cases the sheriff realized he’d misspelled a word, crossed it out and corrected himself. He seemed to write the way he probably spoke, sounding out some words and receiving help on some from Annie.
I heard Pete coming back and set the book aside, closing it carefully. Although it had been somewhat protected, the pages still seemed brittle with age.
It only took me a moment to wash my face and hands, and the warm water felt wonderful. Pete followed suit, although he didn’t shave. Oh well, we were on vacation, sort of, if you didn’t count the fact that we were unwilling vacationers in Wolf Creek, stuck here against our will.
I glanced out the window, wondering if I’d see the stranger. If he was out there, he was laying low, which didn’t break my heart.
“Okay,” I said, taking hold of Pete’s hand, “let’s go explore the town and see what’s left of it.”
He squeezed my hand and we left the house with Bubba running ahead of us. We stopped at the remains of the house near the sheriff’s home first to see if anything was left. We were surprised to see it had burned down. There were still charred pieces of wood, even after all the years that had passed.
I looked up at Pete. “I wonder what happened here.”
“I don’t know, but if you look farther down you’ll see more houses.”
“Do you think this burned out house had anything to do with everyone picking up and leaving?”
“I don’t know. Let’s take a look at the buildings that are still standing.”
We walked along what appeared to have once been a pathway. It was overgrown now, but it looked like animals might have kept it from completely disappearing – or maybe one very busy cowboy.
It was becoming overcast which made the small town appear even more dismal than it was. We stopped and explored another house. It was full of furniture and personal possessions just like the house we were staying in. We looked at each other, both wondering what could have happened. He shrugged and we moved on. We could come back later for a better look at the place. As we were walking out the door, I picked something up off the floor. It might have been a porcelain doll at one time, but I couldn’t be sure. I set it back where I’d found it.
There were a few more houses, but we didn’t enter them, only stopping long enough to peek through the window frames. Of course, all of the glass was long gone and the weather had taken its toll on each home.
While we walked, I told Pete about what I’d read in the sheriff’s records. “There must be more homes past these buildings.”
“What we’ve seen so far wouldn’t account for a hundred and seven people, even including the children,” he agreed.
We stopped on the main town street and looked around. It wasn’t like what I’d seen on television shows. There were no wooden boardwalks fronting what appeared to be businesses. The buildings looked like they were fairly well built, but they looked like an amateur had done the work. They didn’t have the look of historic places you find still standing in large cities. They were very rustic, to put it nicely.
We stepped inside one of the buildings after Pete struggled with the door, which he ended up kicking open. It had a second floor, but the business next door was one story. All the windows had been boarded up on this one. “Watch your step. The flooring might not be stable
. If you break a leg…” He left the thought hanging in the air.
“This must have been a general store,” I said. The wood boarding the windows had shrunk and there were enough spaces between the boards to give us some light.
He nodded. “There are still a few tins of something sitting on the lower shelf. It looks like even the storeowner left without taking anything with him. I think we really have found that mystery you’re always looking for.” He carefully walked behind a rugged counter and fingered some pots and pans that were sitting on a shelf. Turning around, he picked something up off the floor and set it on the counter. It was a broken candy jar.
We could see another door leading to the rear of the building. He headed for it with a grim look on his face. “I hope I don’t have to kick this one open, too.”
“While you’re doing that, I’m going to take a quick look to see what the building next door is.”
He was already pushing on the door and I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.
I stepped outside the building and found myself face to chest with a huge black horse. Heart pounding, I let my gaze wander up to his eyes, and up farther to the eyes of the cowboy. The horse snorted right in my face and, startled, I took a step back. The movement seemed to startle the horse, and he stepped back, too.
Chapter Six
The cowboy’s piercing blue eyes looked deeply into my own blue eyes, watching me. I felt like a bug under a microscope, but I maintained my demeanor and stared right back. He appeared to be tall, but realistically, he was sitting astride a big black horse. His hands rested comfortably on the saddle horn. He was older, maybe in his early fifties, and had weathered skin, almost leathery looking. His hair was long and dark brown with some graying and in need of a good shampoo, and he wore a cowboy hat that had seen better days. His jeans and blue and black plaid shirt looked old and dirty. If I were to be fair, maybe they were just dusty from riding. My eyes wandered back down to the face of the horse, and along the way I noticed the cowboy was wearing a gun belt and gun – not an encouraging sight. I immediately shot my glance back to his face.
