Chapter 18 #2
“All right.” All the air went out of Ben’s lungs as they rounded the hill and came upon the settlers.
They were just as Elliot had described. A man was tending to the horses and checking their load, while his wife cooked over a small fire. The smell of bacon and johnnycakes drifted through the dry air, beckoning Ben to come closer.
Two small children ran in circles around the wagon, chasing each other. One looked up when he caught sight of Ben and Elliot, and he ran immediately to his father.
“Hello, there!” Elliot called out, waving his hand. “Are you folks headin’ toward Tombstone, by chance?”
The man looked them over, his gray eyes taking in their dirty clothes, empty wagon, and gaunt horses. “We are,” he confirmed with a nod.
“Thank goodness.” Elliot sagged slightly in the saddle. “We’ve been wanderin’ out here for a while, and we’ve lost our way. It’s good to see people again!”
“Yes, it certainly looks like you’ve had a hard time of it,” the man noted.
“I hate to ask, but you do have any food you could spare?” Elliot rubbed his stomach.
Ben’s hand jerked. He was watching so intensely for Elliot’s signal, afraid that he might miss it, that he nearly pulled his gun too soon. He swept his hand past his gun and pretended to swat at a fly on his horse’s rear.
“We don’t have much, but we can share a bit of breakfast with you,” the man answered. He looked wary, but he turned to his wife. “Fry up a couple of extra corncakes, would you?”
“Yes, dear.” She went to the back of their wagon to get more cornmeal. “Boys, please make sure you’ve got your bedrolls packed up. We’ll be leaving soon.”
The boys had been standing next to the wagon, staring at Ben and Elliot with their mouths slightly open.
Ben wished they weren’t there. It’d be so much easier if children weren’t involved. What would happen to them? What if they had nothing more to eat?
Elliot’s words came back to him. Someone would take pity on the family when they got to town. They wouldn’t take pity on Ben and Elliot.
“Oh, that’s mighty nice of ya.” Elliot dismounted. “Do ya have any water? We’re pretty parched.”
The man gave them another long look. The side of his neck thumped where his pulse quickened. He didn’t trust them, and he was right not to.
But as his wife returned to the fire with the cornmeal, he went to the back of the wagon. “We just refilled our water at the last creek we crossed.”
“I’ll bet it was nice and clear, out here in these parts.” Elliot followed the man, handing him his canteen.
“Sure.” The man took the canteen and lifted the lid off a barrel in the wagon with his free hand. “Hard to come by, but good when you do find it.”
“Fill that nice and full,” Elliot instructed. He lifted his left hand and clamped the brim of his hat, pushing it slightly back and then forward again.
Ben’s hand went to his revolver. He released it from the holster as he watched Elliot’s right hand make identical movements. They drew at almost the same time.
“What’s your name?” Elliot asked.
“Clint.” He stuck the canteen down into the water barrel.
“Then when you’re done, Clint, you can move that barrel over to our wagon,” Eliot instructed.
The man turned around. His eyes landed on Elliot’s gun, and his jaw tightened. “Listen here, we’re not interested in any trouble.”
The wife looked up from the fire. She dropped her frying pan and ran to her boys, pulling them in close around her.
“No trouble at all,” Elliot replied amicably. “Put all your food in our wagon, too. Every bit of it, and don’t skimp.”
“I suppose you want everything we’ve got?” Clint dared, his fists clenching uselessly on the edge of the barrel. He had a gun on his hip, but he’d never get it out before Elliot could pull the trigger.
“You can keep your clothes. Hell, I don’t even want your wagon. Too big for my taste.” Elliot let out a high-pitched laugh. “I’ll take all your money and jewelry, though.”
The fire licked up the grease around the dropped frying pan and then jumped into it, burning the johnnycakes the woman had been making for them. Ben couldn’t help but feel the loss.
“We’re not wealthy,” Clint informed him, his eyes staying firmly on Elliot. “We spent almost everything we had at our last stop, and we don’t have any jewelry.”
“Now don’t lie to me,” Elliot warned. “I’ve already seen your wife’s necklace. She tries to keep it hidden under her dress, but I can spot a pearl necklace from a mile away.”
The woman gasped a little as her hand went to her neckline.
Ben wondered if Elliot had actually seen the necklace, or if he’d simply tricked her into revealing the truth.
“Ben, come on over here and keep an eye on our friend Clint while he loads the wagon,” Elliot instructed. “I’ll take care of the jewelry.”
“Don’t you touch her,” Clint warned.
“I won’t have to as long as she cooperates,” Elliot told him. “Everyone just needs to do as they’re told.”
It felt like just as much of a warning to Ben as it was to everyone else. He’d stolen plenty, but Ben had always imagined he’d find some way to make up for it. Now he was aiming his gun at another man’s chest, stealing everything he’d worked for.
Was God watching him? Had God been watching when the soldiers had killed each other on the battlefields? Or had He left them long ago, unable to stomach the scene below Him?