Nathanial

by J. B. Richard

  “All right,” Nate grumbled, hating himself for saying even that much. It wasn’t a full-fledged promise, but Nate’s word should be good. Pa and Jesse always did as they’d said when they’d given their word. So Nate had become an underhanded liar. His shoulders slumped for more than one reason. The lie, the Fletchers, it was starting to pile up on him.

  “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We can write.” Jesse encouraged him. “Maybe you can come visit.”

  That was a nice thought, but Nate doubted Mrs. Fletcher would ever come west again. And after all the violence Mr. Fletcher had witnessed, Nate didn’t believe the man would be in a hurry to return this way anytime soon.

  Nate began to tremble as they neared the edge of town. “Jesse, I’m scared.”

  For the time he’d be alone with the Fletchers until he chose his time to bolt, he didn’t know what to expect. What if they were mean to him? He had too much experience with that in his past. Mr. Harper had treated Nate worse than a dog, and his old pa, Jim Younger, had been cruel, as had most of the gang members. Who knew what that city couple was like when they weren’t in public?

  Jesse tucked an arm around him. “I would be too, kid.” He was quiet for a minute. “Ya know … you might like the city.”

  Nate raised a brow. Hogwash. There’d be too many people for his liking. Wide-open space, that’s what he’d rather have. Where would he ride a horse in the city? In the street didn’t count because Nate liked to feel the wind whipping against his face. He wouldn’t be skipping his horse merrily down the damn road—if the Fletchers allowed him to have one.

  “There’s production companies that put on plays. I seen a small version once at a theater in Kansas. It was like watchin’ a book bein’ read to ya.” Jesse knew how much Nate liked to read. He was just trying to hornswoggle him into believing this move wouldn’t be so bad.

  “Suppose you’re gonna tell me that in no time at all, I won’t miss the mountains. That I’ll be too distracted by all the new stuff, the different people and happenings, the styles, carriages, and tall buildings.” Tears filled Nate’s eyes, teetering on spilling over even though he had no intention of staying with the Fletchers for very long. He’d leave them before they left Wyoming. He couldn’t come back here to Gray Rock where his life was. Fletcher had brains enough to assume Nate would run right home after escaping, so that was the last thing he could actually do.

  They passed the church at the edge of town, then Netty’s boarding house. It was of an hour that the main street was full of folks coming and going about their errands. As it was most days, horses spotted the hitch rail outside the different businesses. A wagon stood ready to be loaded with supplies in front of the general store. Several more buckboards had been parked close to the granary. People looked up and watched the two of them. Time seemed to stand still. Everyone had stopped what they were doing. All eyes were on Nate. He leaned back into Jesse.

  “I’ll come visit you.” Jesse promised. “I’ll take the train. The one near Fort Sherman connects and runs the whole way east.”

  Nate would never make it east, but hearing that Jesse was willing to go so far to see him did make him feel a little better until he noticed the stage outside the telegraph office. Mr. Fletcher was now dressed in a clean, unwrinkled suit. His hair once again was slicked and parted as straight as a ruler. He was handing luggage to Dutch, the stagecoach driver, who tossed it up top to Harvey to be strapped down. Mrs. Fletcher stood nearby, smiling and talking with none other than Kristy, whose eyes were red, and she didn’t appear engaged in the conversation. Some people were so clueless, as Mrs. Fletcher appeared to be, that nitwit.

  Kristy’s ma and pa were there. Shorty was now helping Dutch lift a trunk to Harv. Kristy clutched a carpetbag and a handkerchief in her hands. Kristy’s ma was also dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Hattie, Lenny, and Norman were there too. All of them looked sad. It made Mrs. Fletcher look stupidly happy.

  “What in the hell?” Jesse muttered, more to himself. He stared at Kristy in utter disbelief. They weren’t engaged anymore, but Jesse had said he’d hoped to work things out. It was pretty clear she was leaving.

  Nate tugged on Jesse’s sleeve. “Where’s Ma? Don’t I get to say good-bye?”

  The stage door was held open, and Mrs. Fletcher was aided inside. If she was boarding, that meant Nate was leaving now, in minutes. Pa was ill. He couldn’t come to town to see Nate off. Maybe no one had even told Ma what was happening. What if Nate didn’t get to kiss his little sister one last time? No. He couldn’t up and leave like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. None of this should have happened at all.

  “I don’t wanna go!” Nate wailed.

  Huckabee was hustling toward them. “Your ma’s on her way. As soon as I heard the Fletchers planned to leave on the next stage, I went to the house. She should be here any minute.”

  “What about Pa? I wanna see Pa.” Nate sobbed. There was no holding back his misery. After all he’d been through in his short life, this is what God had in store for him? Couldn’t one thing go right, work out the way he wanted?

  Huckabee shook his head. “Your father’s still too weak to git outta bed. He is a little better, but he ain’t in the clear yet.” The marshal patted Nate’s leg as Jesse stepped down out of the saddle.

  Jesse tossed the reins over the rail, and in two lengthy strides, he was standing next to Kristy and her family, who were dismally hugging all over one another.

  Nate quivered as he bawled. This was a day from hell for everyone.

  “Kristy, where ya goin’?” Jesse reached for her hand. She pulled away, then handed Jesse an envelope.

  Nate kept his eyes on his big partner while waiting for Ma.

  Shorty ushered the rest of his family off a few steps. The other passengers were boarding. Dutch and Harv were busy doing their jobs in the middle of all the commotion. No one but Nate noticed that Fletcher was walking toward him.

  Kristy wiped at her eyes. “I’m going east to my mother’s family. For a while anyway.”

  “Why?” Jesse’s eyes were wide and glassy. He looked like a man who had just lost his whole world, and he choked while stammering out the one word.

  Nate kicked at Fletcher. “Git away from me.”

  “It’s time to go. I’m sorry it’s sudden, but Deloris insisted on leaving as soon as you returned. I was hoping to give you some time with your mother and father before we had to leave.” Fletcher sounded sincere, but Nate didn’t trust him. They didn’t care about him or they wouldn’t be taking him away.

  “I hate you!” Nate screamed. Everyone froze. Maybe no one breathed. Not even a horse flicked its tail.

  “Let him alone!” Jesse stepped toward Fletcher, his fists balled.

  Tensions were high, but Kristy caught Jesse by the arm as Marshal Huckabee stepped around Jesse’s horse that Nate was sitting on and shoved himself between Fletcher and Nate.

  “Jesse, ever since we got back, I can’t sleep. My appetite is gone. I jump at every little noise.” Kristy was crying as hard as Nate.

  “You know damn well I’ll protect ya,” Jesse thundered.

  Kristy’s pa must not have cared for Jesse’s tone. He charged in and pushed Jesse back.

  A wagon rattled into the street. Nate turned. “Mama!” He jumped off Jesse’s horse.

  The marshal blocked any swipe Fletcher might make at him, but the man didn’t move.

  Ma halted the team. As she climbed down, Nate threw himself at her. They both nearly crumpled. Ma dropped to her knees, cradling him into her bosom, rocking both of them. Tears streamed down their faces. Curled together in a tight ball in the middle of the dusty street with dozens of eyes on them, they cried over one another.

  Nate felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Both he and Ma looked up at Jesse. Wetness streaked his cheeks.

  “Stand up,” he said, though not unkindly.

  Jesse plucked Nate out of Ma’s arms, keeping him perched on his hip. Then he gave Ma a hand up. She
brushed off her dress. Jesse held her hand, Nate in the other arm. Nate hugged Jesse’s neck. As he walked them toward the stage, he must have known Ma wasn’t strong enough to do it, to give her little boy over to another woman, to a different family. Jesse really had stepped into Pa’s boots. It’s what Pa would have done.

  Dutch opened the door as they got closer to the stage. Kristy was inside. Fletcher waited near the step. Mrs. Fletcher poked her head out the window.

  “We are going to be late to meet the train, young man.” She huffed. “I’m sure no one else on this stage appreciates waiting either.” She fanned herself exasperatedly, as though Nate’s show of heartache was somehow embarrassing to her.

  The whole town crowded around him. Trembling, he clung to Jesse. Ma was tight at Nate’s side. One then another, friends and neighbors wished him the best. Some of his school friends were there waving good-bye, then wiping at their eyes. In a day or two, their lives would go back to the same. Nate’s would never be the same again. He received a few pats on the shoulder from different people who knew him.

  Mrs. Henderson, Phillip’s ma who owned the store, handed Nate a small brown bag. “Gumdrops. Your favorite.”

  Nate grinned.

  Dutch cleared what sounded like a frog in his throat. “I don’t mean to cut ya short, but … the stage has to go.”

  “It’s about time.” Deloris Fletcher’s haughty voice carried.

  “Deloris, be quiet,” Fletcher snapped, shocking everyone.

  There was an uneasy shift within the crowd. They’d seen both the Fletchers as enemies until that moment.

  Nate tucked his face into Jesse’s collar. “I hate her. Don’t make me go.” He sobbed.

  Sniffles rose from the crowd, and Ma was openly crying, clinging to him as tightly as he held to Jesse.

  “If there was any other way …” Jesse shook his head.

  There was no getting out of this that Nate could see. He knew better but couldn’t act now. At the moment, he just wanted to stay there, at home. Jesse began to peel him off. Nate squeezed him tighter. Jesse tugged, but he wasn’t about to let go.

  “Partner, it’s time.” Jesse gave a yank, but Nate was hanging on for dear life.

  “No. Please don’t make me go.” Snot was starting to mix with his tears and smear across his face as he bore into Jesse’s shoulder.

  Jesse pushed with force. A team of horses wouldn’t have the strength to pull Nate off. He had a mean grip.

  “Mama!” Nate howled. “Don’t let them take me.”

  Jesse had yanked one of Nate’s arms free from grasping his shirt. He latched onto another spot before Jesse could wrench Nate’s other hand free.

  “Stop it, partner. You’re killin’ me.” Jesse had never sounded sadder. Ma was bawling worse than a grieving mother.

  Suddenly, Nate was ripped from Jesse. Marshal Huckabee had him.

  Nate swung his fists. “You bastard! I hate you!”

  Ma was reaching for Nate, but Jesse held her back. “Nathanial.” She sobbed.

  The crowd was still huddled around, but Nate hardly noticed them, what their faces looked like, what they were muttering.

  “Jesse.” Nate stretched out his hands. “Mama,” he called over and over.

  Huckabee thrust him up to Dutch who was sitting at the reins. Dutch twisted Nate around until he was locked in one big grizzly arm, though he kicked and squirmed.

  “Dutch, you get that boy to the train. Don’t let him out of your sight between here and there. Hogtie him if ya have to.” The marshal turned to Fletcher. “Get in.” Huckabee slammed the coach door behind Fletcher, then pointedly stared in the window. “You’d be wise to let Dutch handle Nathanial until ya reach Fort Sherman. Then you’re on your own. For Nate’s sake, I hope you’re up to the job ‘cause it ain’t gonna be easy.”

  With one hand, Dutch slapped leather to the team. The stage lurched forward and began to roll. Only, Nate’s heart had been left behind.

  Dutch flopped Nate ass first onto the seat between him and Harvey, the shotgun rider. “You even think about jumping off, and I will tie you with the luggage.”

  “Kiss my ass.” Nate didn’t care about anything anymore. His life had been ripped to pieces.

  He could feel Dutch’s scowl. Nate ignored it and stood on his knees on the seat. All the luggage was stacked up too high. He couldn’t see over it. He took a step to climb on top. Harv grabbed the belt of Nate’s pants.

  “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  “Let him go,” Dutch said

  Nate hustled onto the highest part of the luggage where he could see the road behind him. Ma and Jesse stood in the middle of the street, watching after him. Jesse was practically holding her up. Ma was waving one arm and wiping a handkerchief across her face with the other.

  Nate waved. “I love you!” he yelled from his mountaintop.

  Jesse waved then too. Ma suddenly collapsed. Jesse’s quick hands caught her before she hit the dirt, and he scooped her up, hustling toward the wagon. Jesse glanced over his shoulder one last time at Nate. Their eyes held. The stage rounded a bend, and Ma and Jesse were gone.

  Nate shrank into a ball, holding himself and crying. Was Ma okay? What about the baby? Nate didn’t even know if Pa would live. Would he ever see his family again? Elizabeth might forget him. She was so young. There was no fear of Jesse forgetting him, but he was, no doubt, just as broken as Nate felt. Kristy wasn’t even there to lean on. Ma and Pa always relied on each other to pull through tough times. They couldn’t do that this time. Nate wasn’t sure that Pa even knew he had been taken on the stage. Last he’d heard, Pa was still in and out of consciousness. Nate’s hate for the Fletchers grew, festering quickly.

  By stage, it’d take ten, eleven days before they arrived at Fort Sherman. In that time, Nate would take it upon himself to learn some things that would help him slip away. Dutch had promised to get Nate to the train. He was a man of his word and he was well enough acquainted with Nate’s history with the Younger gang to know his trickery, so Dutch would be watching closely. There was no use trying to escape before that. However, he would know the stage schedules, which probably closely correlated with train times. Nate was counting on that.

  He had been taught at a very young age how to get a man talking, then to turn the conversation to what he wanted to know. If he out and out asked about the train schedules, Dutch would likely grow suspicious. But what man didn’t like to brag on his profession? And Dutch, Nate knew, took pride in having one of the only coaches that had never been robbed. Attempts had been made, but never had the bad guys gotten away.

  If the schedule worked against him and he couldn’t hop on a different train than the one the Fletchers would get on, he’d have to steal a horse and run for it.

  CHAPTER 32

  That evening just before dark, Dutch steered the team into the yard of what Nate guessed had been a stage stop at one time. Now, though, the windows and doors were boarded up, and the roof had caved in. Weeds grew out of every plank seam. Some of the fence rails had fallen away from the corral and lay on the ground. There was a rusted pump for water—if it worked.

  Dutch pulled up on the reins. The team halted. He jumped down. “We’ll rest here for the night.” He opened the coach door.

  In single file, the passengers stepped out.

  Mrs. Fletcher looked aghast. “Where are the accommodations?” She huffed.

  Dutch stomped a foot in the dirt. “Right thar. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Mr. Fletcher took his wife by the arm and led her off a short distance.

  Dutch looked up at Nate. “Help Harv with the team. And don’t get any ideas about stealin’ a horse.”

  “He is not an employee of this stage line or your slave. He’s a child. So I doubt he’d steal a horse,” Mrs. Fletcher snapped at Dutch before Nate had even crawled off the seat.

  Dutch ignored her. He jerked a thumb for Nate to get going.

  “Darling,” Fletcher said. Nate w
as still within earshot. “Let the …” Fletcher eyeballed Dutch from head to toe, then hesitantly said, “Gentleman handle the boy. He is far more capable than we are.”

  “That is ridiculous.” Mrs. Fletcher turned toward Nate. “Nathanial, come here. Let the paid men do the work.”

  Nate arched his neck back and spit at her. A big glob splattered the ground near her foot.

  She gasped and jumped back. “Lem, do something.” She was red in the face.

  “What would you suggest, darling? Spank him? As I recall, you don’t believe in that, or so we have agreed.”

  Nate chuckled.

  “We made a mistake, Deloris. He belongs here. I tried to tell you after we escaped the Indians, but you wouldn’t listen.” Was Fletcher pleading Nate’s case now that it didn’t matter? Nate had been signed over to them. It was too late.

  The other passengers politely made themselves scarce, working to build a fire.

  “He is our nephew, Lem. He belongs to us.”

  “He is not a horse. He is a child. A very unhappy little boy. I saw him ride into the eye of battle without fear. Do you really think he will ever fit into our world?” Before she snapped a retort, Fletcher went on. “Well, I don’t. He will be miserable. I’m already miserable. Nothing good can come from us taking him away from his mother and father. He didn’t even get a chance to properly say good-bye. Do I really have to remind you of that awful scene?”

  “They are not his mother and father. My sister was his mother.”

  “Oh yes, your dear, sweet, foul-mouthed harlot of a sister who fell in love with a wanted man, a killer. I’m sure Mrs. Crosson doesn’t compare.”

  The slap across Fletcher’s cheek cracked like lightning. Deloris was snorting and rubbed at her hand.

  Nate found himself holding his breath. No one moved or said a word.