Chapter 17 #2
“Weak because of what? She died? She couldn’t turn aside your anger? She wasn’t mean enough to pull a gun on you to drive you back?” Wade’s mother had been a gentle soul, trapped like Wade. “What do you mean by weak, Pa?”
Pa scowled, revealing the lines cut into his face by years and years of steady hate.
“She was always at her Bible. Always praying. She tried to ruin you with that stuff too. A man has to depend on himself. God respects a man who makes the most of what he’s been given.
God gave me strength and a sharp brain, and He expects me to use them. ”
“You used your strength to tame this ranch land, Pa. But you also used it against me. Why?”
“I wanted you to stand up for yourself. I wanted you to grow up as strong as me. To be worthy of this ranch I built for you.”
“You sit there now, in that chair, a broken man, and claim to have had a reason for how you acted, but I don’t think you really thought it through, Pa.
I think you have a mean streak, and you took it out on someone smaller.
That isn’t what I think of as strong, Pa.
It sounds weak to me.” Wade stared at his pa for a long time, and for the first time in his life, he saw a man to be pitied.
A boy who’d been battered. A weakling who was maybe, in his own way, as fearful as Wade.
“‘Whom shall I fear,’ Pa?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a Bible verse I say to myself all the time.
Psalm Twenty-seven. ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?’ I’ve spent my whole life fearing you, Pa.
But no more.” Wade slashed his hand downward.
“Because with God, I don’t have to fear anyone.
” He turned his attention to his supper.
“I–I’m sorry, son.”
Wade looked up from his meal at the words he’d never heard before. He had no idea how to react to an apology from his father. He’d never gotten one before.
“It was never my intention to make you afraid.”
Somehow, Wade found it easy to respond to that. An excuse. The old man wasn’t really taking responsibility at all. “As if the way you acted wasn’t meant to frighten me? As if the fact that it did was somehow my fault?”
“No, that’s not how I meant it.”
“That’s what you said. And you know, I think it was your intention. I just can’t figure out what pleasure you got from terrorizing a child.” Wade went back to eating.
“No pleasure.” Pa stared at his hands, folded in his lap, subdued.
Not himself at all. “But power, I guess. Some kind of satisfaction. I thought I needed to run the whole world, control every bit of it. Dominate every acre and tree and cow and rock. And that stretched to people too. Including you. Just know that I’m sorry.
I know I done wrong by you. I’ll probably do wrong again, but maybe now I can at least admit it when I do. ”
Wade stared at his plate of cooling supper. When he spoke, it was quietly. “I appreciate the words. It isn’t enough, it doesn’t make up for much, but thanks for at least saying it.”
After a long stretch of silence, Pa rolled to the kitchen door and opened it. “We could do it. We could fix up a ramp and adjust the buckboard. I could oversee this place again.”
“Good—the sooner you take back control of this ranch, the sooner I can leave.” Wade chewed thoughtfully on his biscuit.
Gertie gasped and rose from the table to begin cleaning the kitchen.
A cow lowed softly in the distance. Crickets chirped, and a night owl hooted. A cool breeze reminded Wade that summer came late up here and left early.
“I’m for it. Mort and I will start work on it tomorrow morning.” Abby took her knife out of its sheath. “It will get him out of this house, and good riddance.” She rose and picked up a whetstone lying on the kitchen counter, and soon the soothing rasp of metal on stone filled the silence.
The first thing Red saw when he came riding up was Cassie, running out of the house to meet him, a smile on her face and her long dark hair flying.
Red had pushed all night to get this rustled herd home, just so he could see his pretty wife. Silas and his women were agreeable, and the Jessups were too quiet to voice an opinion.
The Jessups who’d come to see to Red’s place stepped one by one out of the rocks here and there, lowering their rifles as soon as they recognized Red, Silas, Belle, Emma, and the three other Jessup brothers.
It gave Red a deep pull of satisfaction to know his family had been so carefully guarded. Good men, the Jessups.
Red spurred his horse ahead so he could keep Cassie from getting run down by the herd, but the cattle were tired after a long trek, and they probably would have just walked around Red’s careless little wife.
When he pulled his horse beside her, he bent down and lifted her off her feet to settle her on the saddle in front of him.
“Hi.” He looked at a smile warm enough to melt the Rockies in January, then Cassie flung her arms around his neck and gave him the hello kiss he’d been dreaming about. The herd headed straight for the pond south of his house while Red greeted his wife enthusiastically.
Then Cassie noticed the prisoner. “Is that man draped over the horse one of the rustlers?”
“Yep. There were two, but one got away.”
“Does it hurt him to have his head hang down like that?”
Red sure hoped so. He wasn’t about to forget the man had a rifle trained on that gap. “He’s fine. We’ll take him on into Divide after breakfast. You think we’ve got enough food to fill this crew up?”
“I’ll start scrambling eggs and frying potatoes right now. We’ve got plenty.” She kissed him again and said with a pert tilt of her nose, “Now take me over to the house and quit distracting me. I’ve got work to do.”
Red loved it when she sassed him. He’d made sure she knew it too. He rewarded that pert little mouth with another kiss.
Belle’s daughter Sarah had breakfast going before Red could walk Cassie back to the house.
She dished out enough eggs and ham to fill up the whole crew of them, and it was a considerable crowd.
The little redheaded girl did it all with one baby on her back, another on her hip, and one clinging to her ankle.
“We’re not riding into Divide with you, Red,” Belle said as she drained her second cup of coffee. “We’ve been away from home too long as it is.”
“With another rustler still on the loose, I don’t like leaving my place for so long.” Silas looked at Belle. “We ought to start standing a watch on both gaps into our place. We’ve never hired any cowhands, but maybe it’s time we did.”
Belle frowned. “I don’t like strangers around the place. Especially men when we’ve got young girls.”
Emma looked up from where she was wolfing her food. “Ain’t no man around I can’t handle, Ma.” Her narrowed eyes and quiet determination showed the girl had it exactly right.
“Let’s wait a few days on it, Silas. See what Red finds out about the rustler he caught. Maybe he can get the man to talk and we can put an end to the trouble without adding hired hands at the ranch.”
Silas nodded. “Gonna go cut our cattle out of that herd.” He rose from the table, the legs of his wooden chair scraping against the floor. “You womenfolk gonna help or sit in here having tea and cookies while I work?”
Red watched a brave, brave man leave his house, Belle and Emma right on his heels.
Silas and his family were soon heading down the trail, pushing their cattle toward home.
The Jessups found a few of their own herd, and Red cut out the ones that belonged to him. It was a smart operation, taking a few cattle at a time. The rustling might well have been going on for years.
Three of the Jessups drove their recovered animals home. Red was left with around fifty head to drive into Divide.
They were ready to set out by midmorning. Cassie rode well enough now to actually help with the drive, but she had Michael strapped on her back, and Red had Susannah on his lap, so the Jessups got to do more than their share of the work.
The normally three-hour ride took the rest of the day, and as they confined the cattle in a holding pen, the Jessups hit the trail in three directions to area ranches with the news that cattle had been recovered. A man was in town from the Linscott place and rode out for his boss.
Before Red escorted his prisoner to jail, he turned to Cassie. “Cass, honey, go get us a room at Grant’s, all right? We’ll have to stay the night in town and wait for the ranchers to ride in and sort out their cattle.”
“Yes, Red.” The polite obedience was like sweet balm to his soul. There once was a time the little woman would hardly say anything other than “Yes, Red.” Ah, he loved remembering those days.
Cassie scooped Susannah off his lap. Then, loaded down with children, she skillfully turned her horse toward the hotel.
That knife sheath at her waist gave him a little chill of terror.
Watching her reminded Red how far his wife had come since they’d married.
His overly submissive, fumble-fingered little wife had turned into about the best rancher’s wife in the whole world.
Later, Red got his family settled in Grant’s Hotel and gave them each a good-night kiss, going down the row, sweeping Susannah up to eye level and listening to her giggle. Red next gave Michael a noisy smack on his drooly chin, then ended with a longer kiss for his pretty wife.
“I’m going to stay with the sheriff, at least for a while. He’ll need to keep watch all night, and we can spell each other.”
Enviously, he watched Cassie tuck the children into bed, then join them. If he stayed, he could climb in, too, and be surrounded by comfort and warmth and love.
Instead, feeling a mite sorry for himself, he went to jail.