Chapter 12 #4
Leaning back in his chair, Gideon nodded slowly.
“Waiting’s never been what you’d call my strong suit.
And I’ve already had a look at what interests me.
Morgan’s different that way. Real patient.
I remember how he worked on my daddy’s safe after Zetta Lee gave up.
She was crazy mad to get into it. She was fixin’ to dynamite the thing when Morgan stepped in.
I think he forgot all about the rest of us standing around while he worked.
I never saw the like before, and when he opened that door” —Gideon whistled softly, admiringly— “that was something. Sure put a lot of ideas in Zetta Lee’s head. ”
Marcie asked, “What was in the safe?”
“Cash money. Homestead papers from the land office. A couple of pieces of jewelry that belonged to my daddy’s mother and a locket that was Ma’s.
The money was enough to keep us going for a while, and we had a clear title to the land, but Zetta Lee got it in her head that we could do better than cattle ranching, especially in the lean times. ”
“And you did,” said Dixon.
Gideon shrugged. “We did all right. For a time. Problem was, Morgan didn’t see the advantages same way the rest of us did, and we needed him for the safes.”
“He really has the touch?” asked Avery. “I’ve heard that some people do, but I’ve never seen it.”
“Could be you’ll get the chance. What he can do with a safe is elegant. Always did prefer it to blowin’ the damn thing up.” He smiled narrowly. “’Course that’s kinda fun, too.”
* * *
Jane leaned forward in her saddle and patted Sophie’s neck. The mare tossed her head and preened. “Yes,” Jane cooed. “You are such a pretty lady.”
Morgan chuckled. He was riding Condor, a chestnut gelding who had no interest in Sophie’s flirting but liked to nuzzle Jane when Morgan let him get close. He supposed it was because Jane had been baking oatmeal cookies before he suggested they ride out to Blue Valley.
“This must be the most glorious place on earth,” she said, twisting right and left to take in as much of the panoramic view as she could.
Snow blanketed the landscape. It defined the skeletal limbs of the cottonwood and maple trees, and lay in thick folds along banks of the stream.
It frosted the pines until their branches sagged under the weight.
The Herefords congregated around green circles where they had pushed away or trampled the snow.
Ice in the basin had been chipped away to allow them to enjoy their favorite watering hole.
The sky was halcyon blue. The wind was not stirring, and an icy glaze across hill and valley reflected the sunshine.
Jane was smiling contentedly when she looked in Morgan’s direction. “How did you find Morning Star?”
“Ida Mae told me about it.”
“Mrs. Sterling? Really?”
“She heard that the eastern syndicate wanted to sell, and she knew I wanted to settle. The first time she wrote to me, it was to tell me that Benton was dead. I wrote back, expressed my sorrow, and I thought that would be the end of it. She wrote again, and I answered, and we fell into an easy correspondence that lasted until I came to Bitter Springs.”
“She never mentioned that.”
“No,” said Morgan. “She wouldn’t. She figures things like that are for me to say.”
“Does she know about Zetta Lee?”
“Calls her Jezebel, so yes, she knows some things about her.” He shook his head, pointing to himself when Jane arched an eyebrow. “Benton. I don’t know precisely what she knows, and I have no intention of asking her. Neither should you.”
“I wish you did not believe you had to say that. I suppose I have given you reason to think I might speak to her on any subject concerning you, but I would never speak about that, Morgan. I would never.”
He looked out over the valley. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you know.”
“Are there things I don’t know?”
“About Zetta Lee?”
“No. I don’t care about her. I’m talking about you. Are there things I don’t know?”
“Yeah.”
“If you had answered differently, I might have called you a liar.”
“I figured as much. Is there something in particular you’re wanting to know?”
“Actually, yes. I’ve been thinking about all the talk at breakfast a few mornings back.”
Morgan snorted. “There’s too damn much talk at every breakfast. You’ll have to be a tad more specific.”
“About your friend. The one I ran into outside of Mrs. Garvin’s shop.”
“That was almost a week ago. I hardly remember it.”
“Liar.”
He grunted softly but did not offer a defense.
“I think you have someone in mind who fits the description I gave you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Something about the way you looked then and your evasion now. Who is he?”
“Not my friend.”
“That was my word, not his. He only said that the two of you ‘went back a ways.’”
“He could be anyone.”
“I realize that. But who do you think he is?”
Morgan sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “I reckon he could be one of my brothers.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Why ever wouldn’t you say so?”
“Lots of reasons, but mostly because I am trying to figure out what I want to do about it.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“I know you don’t, and I know it’s my fault. Maybe it’s wrongheaded, but I still have this notion that there might be things I will never have to tell you.”
“If it helps, I will remind you again that I am not going anywhere.”
He smiled. “Since you’re still here after I told you about Zetta Lee, it seems like that’s something I can hang my hat on.”
“Yes,” she said. “Hang your hat on that.”
For a long moment, Morgan was quiet, then he said, “Did you notice if he limped some?”
Jane thought about it. “No. We did not walk together. He was suddenly there in my path and then he wasn’t.”
“Jackson limps. He fell halfway out of his saddle during a cattle drive, got his foot caught in the stirrup, and was dragged a piece before Gideon could help him. He put his knee out. It never set right with him after that.” Morgan shrugged.
“The limp’s a good distinguishing feature.
Otherwise, it’d be hard to describe them in enough detail to set them apart. ”
“All right, but everyone at the table except Jem offered a name, and each name belonged to someone who lives in or around Bitter Springs. Your brothers don’t, do they?”
“No. The last I knew they were living in Kansas.”
“That’s quite a way off. Is Zetta Lee there now?”
“Not that I know of. I think she’s still in Lander.”
“So they might have come back this way to visit her.”
“Possible, I suppose, but there’s no love lost between them and Zetta Lee either.
And before you ask, the answer is: I don’t know.
Neither of them ever said a word to me that makes me think Zetta Lee had them in her bed.
Same as I never said a word to them. There’s enough other reasons they’d as soon choke her as look at her. ”
“Do you mean that?”
“About choking her? I do.”
“Then your brother might be here to see you?”
“Probably.”
Jane gave Sophie a little kick and urged her forward when Morgan and his gelding began to move across the ridge. “Where are we going?”
He pointed to the next ridge where a stand of pines offered shelter under their broad, white canopy. “We can stretch our legs over there, walk around a bit where the snow’s not so deep. I brought some extra shells. I thought you might like to have a chance to shoot.”
“Are you certain you want to give me a weapon, Morgan? I might well turn it on you.”
Morgan said nothing.
Jane pulled Sophie up.
Morgan looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you coming?”
“When you tell me why you think it might have been one of your brothers I met in town. There is something missing because it makes no sense. If it is a brother, why wouldn’t he make himself known to you?”
“Either one of them would have their reasons.”
“Suppose you tell me one.”
“The best I can figure is that he doesn’t want witnesses.”
“Witnesses to what? Greeting you?”
“Killing me.”
Jane stared at him, mouth parted.
“You’re gaping,” said Morgan.
Nodding, Jane brought Sophie abreast of him. “I am not certain what I want to say to you, Morgan Longstreet, so I am going to sort it out before I say things I shouldn’t.” She took a deep, calming breath. “Right now, for all kinds of reasons, I am in favor of that shooting lesson.”