Nathanial

by J. B. Richard

  “If it wasn’t for me, Nathanial wouldn’t be alive,” she barked at Ma. Her face was beet red, as crimson as Ma’s, and based on her steamy breath, she wasn’t about to let it drop. “Who do you think changed his diapers or rocked him at night when he woke up cryin’? It sure as hell wasn’t Lucinda, least not ‘til she come outta her depression. All she did was drink. Some women was never meant to be mothers. You can hate the sight of me. I don’t give a shit, but I wouldn’t ever hurt no kid. Nathanial didn’t ask to be born.”

  “Mrs. Crosson, take your seat. Everyone, settle down,” the judge bellowed, shaking the windows. He hammered his gavel a few more times.

  Mr. Graham and Prescott were speaking in a hushed tone at Ma’s side, reminding her to retain civility. Ma did not like what Mrs. Gill had to say—none of them liked it—but she had a right to speak. Ma would soon get her say.

  Ma slumped into her chair. The mass of folks who had pressed in to get their share of the entertainment plopped into their seats. No one made a noise. Nate alone could hear the rapid drumming of his heart. Ma and Jesse were sitting near that maybe they could hear it too, and that’s why they’d inched closer to him.

  “Proceed, Mr. Thatcher,” Judge Parker said. His neck was still awful red.

  Thatcher produced a letter from inside his vest pocket. Nate couldn’t imagine what horrors it would tell of. It made him feel gooey inside. He wiped at his eyes. He was still stunned after just learning that the thin woman had been more of a mother to him than Lucinda.

  “This is a letter received by Deloris Fletcher—” Thatcher started to say.

  “I already know what that is,” Mrs. Gill snapped, cutting Thatcher off.

  Why was that skinny witch doing this to Nate? It was Pa she hated for killing her man. Nate hadn’t done a damn thing to her. In fact, he’d been nothing but nice to her, and this was what he got for it. He’d gone against his old instincts about not trusting people he didn’t know. Now look at him—sitting in a sweaty courtroom, waiting to hear if he would be shipped east with two strangers and never see his family again.

  “I recognize that fancy stationery. Deloris sent a pack of it to her sister so she’d write.” She smirked. “If I had to guess, I’d bet that’s the letter I sent for Lucinda right before she died.”

  Everyone must have been holding their breath, waiting to hear what had been penned on the sheet, what awful event would be revealed from Nate’s past. Not a peep or rustle of clothing was heard.

  “That is correct,” Thatcher said loud and clear.

  The thin woman took the letter, tracing her fingers around the edge, but she didn’t open the envelope. She could have been remembering the day Lucinda had handed it to her. It was strange to think that Nate could not recall this woman ever being involved in his life. He’d been very young, but she must have been the one who let him look at the picture book. In his memories, he couldn’t even produce an image of Lucinda’s face. There were so many awful things in his past that he wished to forget. Some he had blocked from his mind. Mrs. Gill, or whatever her name had been back then, she was one of those lost and better forgotten recollections. She stared nostalgically at the envelope with Deloris Fletcher’s name penned on it.

  “Why don’t you read it for us?” Thatcher’s request didn’t strike Nate as odd, given that the Fletchers’ attorney was trying to hammer in that this Gill woman knew Lucinda’s last wishes for what would be done for her child. There was, however, something in his tone that hinted of devilry.

  Mr. Graham, the attorney working for Ma and Pa, came to his feet to interject. “How do we know that letter wasn’t just written? Perhaps Mrs. Gill wrote it herself. Who’s to say the handwriting on that paper belongs to Lucinda Reinheart?”

  Nate thought those were fine points. The Fletchers didn’t look worried. Sweat glistened on Jesse’s brow, and Ma closed her eyes tight for a few seconds. Perhaps she was praying.

  “Judge,” Thatcher said while walking to the table where the Fletchers appeared calm, at least on the outside.

  Ma and Jesse, sitting on either side of Nate, looked flustered, so Nate reckoned their guts were as tight as his. It was hard to tell what crazy thing Lucinda might have put in her will. That was, after all, her last testament written days before she died. Who would go against that? Nate had to fight the urge to jump up, run out, and hop on Jesse’s horse since he hadn’t ridden Buck to town. Then he would take flight and go someplace the Fletchers couldn’t find him.

  Thatcher picked up a stack of envelopes. All of them were the same size, shape, and cream color, not like any mail Nate had ever seen. He would bet those were the letters Mr. Fletcher had told Pa about that day in Birch Creek, and inside were other correspondences between Deloris and Lucinda. Thatcher opened several envelopes, presenting Judge Parker with the evidence. The judge adjusted the spectacles on the end of his nose while studying the handwriting. Both Mr. Graham and Prescott, as representatives of Nate’s side of this battle, went forward and also examined the sheets.

  Before any of them said a word, their noses stuck in the papers spread across the judge’s desk, the thin woman broke the silence in the room. “I can’t read or write. But I can tell ya what that letter says.”

  All eyes were now on her. Nate’s stomach flipped. He was sure he was going to vomit. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Jesse put an arm around his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. Tears teetered on the rims of Ma’s eyes.

  “She wanted her boy sent back east to her sister. I don’t know why. They didn’t get along for shit,” the thin woman stated matter-of-factly.

  Mrs. Fletcher gasped. Nate reckoned she hadn’t expected that to be revealed. All his dirty laundry was aired. Why not hers?

  Judge Parker smacked his gavel down. “Mrs. Gill, I never thought I’d have to say this to a woman. Stop with the profanity. There are women and children present.”

  “I just meant that Lucinda and her sister, all they did was squabble in those letters. Lucinda would read them to me.” The thin woman looked down at the gold band on her left hand. “Toward the end, she hated Jim. That hateful prick actually cursed her for gettin’ sick. He bitched that thanks to her, he’d have to start payin’ to have a sweet time. Suppose she finally figured out what an asshole he was.”

  “Mrs. Gill!” Judge Parker shook his gavel at her. “No more cursing. One more … slip and I’ll hold you in contempt.”

  Nate didn’t care about the bad words. Wetness spilled down his cheeks. What a thing, an awful thing, for his friends, who were sitting in that courtroom with their folks, to hear. Every ugly part of his past was being exposed. Horrible circumstances that he hadn’t even known were coming to light, and he hated it. He hated what he’d been born out of. It certainly wasn’t love.

  The thin woman glared at Judge Parker. “It’s the truth! No matter how I say it,” she barked right back at him. “Deloris Fletcher, accordin’ to Lucinda, was the lesser of two evils.”

  There was sudden restless stirring among everyone. Nate didn’t look around. Instead, he just stared at his boots, wishing he could disappear, and the whole time, he could feel all those eyes on him. Too many sad eyes that were filled with pity. He didn’t want them feeling sorry for him, and he didn’t want to hear any more. What he wanted, god-awful bad, was Pa. When no one cared a lick about Nate, Nolan Crosson had taken him in and given him the Crosson name. Where were the Fletchers then? They’d never been part of his life and never would be.

  Mrs. Gill loudly cleared her voice. “Here’s a little information that I’m sure that bitch”—she looked at Deloris—“didn’t tell anyone.”

  Deloris Fletcher squirmed, taking hold of her husband’s arm. Lem Fletcher stared at his wife, as he didn’t have a clue. Even their lawyer’s brows were raised, and he waited to hear.

  “She wired Lucinda, saying she didn’t want Nathanial. She had a child of her own to raise and feared that the offspring of an outlaw might be too wild. Guess she changed her mind.”


  “Wait just a minute.” Thatcher pointed a finger in her face, and she smirked. She was on no one’s side but her own.

  Mrs. Fletcher was on her feet as if ready to argue otherwise. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Then she dropped back into her chair. The crowd was humming with whispered opinions.

  Nate wiped his sleeve across his eyes as he looked up. Behind the judge, the rear door to the schoolhouse was open, allowing a breeze to flow through. It wasn’t more than ten, eleven feet to freedom.

  “That is enough from you, Mrs. Gill.” Judge Parker hammered away on the desk. The banging was deafening, and everyone was focused there.

  Although the unfettered muttering within those four walls rose above the hammering, it seemed that none of the preconceived ideas were taking shape. Those who knew Nate, and even those who didn’t, what had they expected to hear? He wasn’t born to sunshine and rainbows. His outlaw father had treated him no better than some no-name bastard child. And he now knew that the whore who’d given birth to him was no better a person. He wanted to forget all of it. He wished he had never heard a single word about his time spent with Lucinda. Why couldn’t his past stay buried?

  “Shut up! I don’t wanna hear any more!” Something inside him snapped. Nate was on his feet. His body shook. Was it fear of what might happen to him or pure anger? Either way, he’d had enough.

  Ma sprang up beside him. “Nathanial, sweetheart.”

  Nate jerked away from her and bumped into Jesse, who stood protectively on the other side of him. He just wanted to be alone. He needed air. He couldn’t take a deep breath. So many faces looking at him, staring at him.

  “Order!” the judge shouted over all the noise.

  Thatcher glared at Nate. “You keep quiet.”

  That was all it took, and Jesse hurdled the table. Two long strides and Jesse was almost in Thatcher’s face as he drew back to punch him in the mouth. Huckabee dove from where he’d been standing, knocking Mr. Graham and Prescott spinning in either direction, and somehow he managed to tackle Jesse before he walloped Thatcher.

  Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher both popped out of their chairs, drawing in a deep, gasping breath. Thatcher was now wide-eyed and looking like he might piss himself. The thin bitch sat there snickering. The judge might as well have saved his voice. Screaming at everyone to settle down wasn’t paying off. The crowd was riled up. It seemed everyone had picked a side. Opinions roared back and forth across the room. The judge should have just thrown his hammer right out the window for all the good it was doing him. No one was listening or cared to. Ma was crying into her hands as all the commotion whirled around them.

  Jesse and the marshal tussled across the floor. Nate’s partner was hungry for a piece of Thatcher in the worst way. Jesse lunged at the lawyer, the marshal grabbing with both hands to hold him back. They both hit into Thatcher, who fell backward into the table where the Fletchers stood. The two of them where knocked stumbling ass first into the crowd, who didn’t hesitate to push in return. There was lots of grumbling. Too bad Nate couldn’t stay and watch Thatcher get his. Ladies and kids where being quickly ushered toward the door. War was about to break out.

  Nate looked over at his mother. He would never forget her. He was sorry he couldn’t go home and say good-bye to Pa. “Ma,” he said timidly while hoping the motherly sense that always told her when he was up to something didn’t kick in. A lot was going on around them and none of it good.

  She sadly stared down at him. Tears streamed down her face.

  “I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. All this trouble, he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. It was his past he felt the need to apologize for. Things that had happened years ago, things that should have been behind them and were now hurting the people he loved most. His leaving would hurt her too, and Pa and Jesse, but Nate saw no other way. More importantly, he wanted Ma to get the hell out of there before she got knocked into or accidentally hit.

  “Go!” Nate said and dashed for the back door.

  Behind him, Judge Parker was nearly bringing down the roof, yelling like an Indian on the warpath, threatening everyone with contempt of court.

  “Nathanial!” Ma’s shrill voice cut through all the other voices and noise and pierced Nate’s heart. If he even dared to glance back at her, he’d stop running.

  CHAPTER 27

  Jesse halted in the doorway, catching his breath after his tussle with the marshal. Nate was running as fast as those little feet would carry him across the schoolyard toward the wagon. Jesse’s horse was tied there, and he knew precisely what that boy was thinking.

  “Partner! Stop! Come back!”

  As he kept a fast pace, Nathanial threw a quick look over his shoulder but ignored Jesse’s plea. That child was a damn good rider, and Freckles could run almost as fast as the buckskin. If he got on that horse, there would be no catching him. Nate was light and the appaloosa young and filled with stamina. A bad combination given the situation.

  Jesse darted toward his little partner. Others were quickly filing out behind him and down the stairs. The noise and voices, including the Fletchers, Judge Parker, all the lawyers, and Prescott, briefly drew his eyes. Ma was standing at the top of schoolhouse steps, wiping at her eyes. Some of her lady friends were gathered around her.

  Jesse focused ahead. Nate was too little to step up into the saddle without help of some kind, which would slow him down, perhaps giving Jesse time to catch hold of him. He quickly crawled into the wagon bed, then hopped over onto the saddle. He madly kicked the sides of the appaloosa, and away they flew as though that pony’s tail were afire.

  Jesse stopped at the side of the wagon, bent over and out of breath from the short spurt. What was that boy thinking, running away? What was that going to solve? Well … Jesse had almost punched a lawyer and a judge because he’d been upset. This was probably just the kid’s knee-jerk reaction, or so he hoped. Once the kid calmed down, likely, he’d come home. Jesse stood there watching the boy go until he disappeared into the tree line.

  Without warning, Jesse was shoved, struck in the middle of his back, and flung forward but didn’t fall. He spun on his heel, not knowing exactly what to expect. But what he saw, or rather who he was looking at, definitely wasn’t what he expected. Lem Fletcher stood before him. The man’s face was flaming red.

  “This is your fault!” Fletcher pointed an accusing finger at him. “If you wouldn’t have started the fisticuffs, none of this would have happened.”

  “Horseshit!” Jesse wasn’t about to let Fletcher crowd him. He gave Fletcher a hard push to back off, and the gent danced backward a step or two.

  Fletcher’s hands balled at his sides. Every man had his breaking point, and it appeared this dude had reached his. Lots of folks, mostly men, bunched in around them. Was this round two?

  “Knock it off!” Marshal Huckabee barged between Jesse and Fletcher, eyeing one, then the other. It was a warning for the two of them to restrain themselves.

  The brawl inside the courtroom had been enough. There was no reason to bring it out into the middle of town. Jesse was just too worked up to let it drop.

  “It ain’t no news flash that Nate wants nothin’ to do with you. Why can’t ya leave the kid alone? My God, you heard just a snippet of what that boy has lived through, and now that he’s got good folks who love him, a family, something he ain’t ever had, you wanna go and rip him away from it.” Jesse cursed under his breath. “If you think that boy is just gonna roll over and let ya scratch his belly, you best think twice ‘cause he don’t warm up to people too easy.”

  “We are his family!” Mrs. Fletcher snapped, her nose in the air. “Eventually, he’ll get accustomed to our ways. He’ll come to see that this is for the best.”

  Had she not been a woman, Jesse would have smacked that highfaluting better-than-you smirk right off and enjoyed it. Instead, he grinned, but it wasn’t friendly, not in the least. “If what you say is true—that you’re his family—then why the
hell is it that he jumped on my horse and ran off? Shouldn’t he have run to you since you’re what’s best for him?”

  Mrs. Fletcher swung a flat hand to slap Jesse’s face. He caught her by the wrist.

  “Don’t forget the judge hasn’t made his decision yet. I only wish I had that telegram to shove in your face. Didn’t want him, huh?”

  She yanked her hand away.

  Mr. Fletcher barreled between them. “Go after him,” Fletcher angrily demanded. Spittle flew every which way.

  Jesse wiped his chin.

  Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. “It is your duty as deputy sheriff.” The corners of his mouth triumphantly curled up.

  Jesse was plumb out of patience with this asshole.

  Ma had come to the wagon with a huddle of women all fussing over her. Her hands were supporting her lower back, which was arched in a way that pushed her belly out, showing her condition, and Ma looked downright beat. Her eyes were red, and her shoulders shook with each sob.

  Jesse wouldn’t hit Fletcher, not with Ma and the other ladies present. He unpinned his badge, regarding it a second or two. Taking it off wasn’t an easy thing to do. He loved his job and loved the man he worked for. The man who somehow always kept Jesse thinking straight when otherwise he might have let himself get too riled up and done something stupid. Like now. But Jesse couldn’t help himself.

  He tossed the tin star in the dirt at the Fletchers’ feet. “You want Nathanial, go git him yourself.”

  As Jesse turned toward the wagon where Ma waited to be helped up onto the seat, Huckabee caught him by the shoulder, spinning him. “Son, don’t do this. Think of Nolan. He wouldn’t want Nate left to run free on his own, nor would he be okay with you quittin’. I know for a fact that ain’t who he taught you to be.”

  Jesse didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, what Huckabee said made good sense and was true. But Jesse felt selfish. He couldn’t pin that badge back on knowing he might be helping the snide city couple secure what they wanted. Although, that depended on the judge’s ruling. If Judge Parker gave Nate to the Fletchers … There was simply no way in hell Jesse could hand over his little partner. He didn’t possess the strength for it or the gumption. It’d be a fight. And it would take an army to pry that kid from Jesse’s fingers. Just thinking about it took some wind out of him. Jesse suddenly felt as tired as Ma looked.