Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
With the smoke and flames still rising into the night sky, Caleb whistled, and Pirate immediately trotted up to him out of the falling snow and darkness.
“I know you’re bone-tired and hungry, big fella, but the two of us got a few more miles to go before this journey is over.”
Bracing himself against the pain wracking his body, Caleb hauled himself up into the saddle again. With a click of his tongue, they started out across the meadow toward the river and the trail leading to Elkhorn.
Caleb didn’t take time to change his clothes or do anything else at the ranch.
There was nothing he could do. The fire that was destroying the barn and Henry’s cabin would just burn itself out.
The herd and the horses had scattered and that mule was probably halfway to Santa Fe by now.
In any event, there was no way Caleb could round them up now.
And no matter how many times he called, there’d been no sign of his dog.
The ride into Elkhorn passed in a weary blur, but Pirate didn’t falter. Before they reached town, Caleb realized that the storm had pretty much faded to flurries and the wind had stopped entirely.
The snow filling Elkhorn’s streets didn’t slow down the late-night revelers at all.
Drunken miners were building walls of snow and having a noisy snowball fight in the middle of Main Street outside the Belle.
They looked and sounded like schoolboys on holiday.
Caleb didn’t see Henry’s horse tied to the hitching post, but he would more likely have taken him to Malachi Rogers’s livery stable.
When Caleb dismounted at Malachi’s place, the sight of his dog running out of the stables and jumping up to greet him was the most welcome thing he’d experienced in days.
“Thank God, you’re here. Good boy, Bear. But what in blazes are you doing in town?” Not that he was complaining.
Bear tried to answer but only managed to circle Caleb, wag his tail, and whimper happily.
Malachi Rogers appeared in the large double doors of the stable, holding a lantern.
“Marlowe, glad to see you’re back.” The man’s voice carried the distinct sound of relief.
“What’s wrong? The missus and the boys all right?” After the night he’d already had, Caleb was concerned that everything and everyone connected to him might be in danger.
“They’re all fine. The boys are sleeping, being as late as it is.”
Caleb had no idea how late it was. He pushed the dog down with a pat on the head. “Why is Bear here with you?”
“Gabe and Paddy didn’t want to leave him out there alone at the ranch, what with the weather. So they went out and fetched him. Brought him back this morning.”
“Where’s Henry?”
“You ain’t heard?”
Every nerve in Caleb’s body was already frayed, and cold sweat trickled down his spine. “What happened to him?”
Malachi motioned up the road toward the jail. “Your partner was arrested yesterday. Brought in by the sheriff and locked up for Frank Stubbs’s murder.”
“Murder?”
The livery owner nodded. “Word is Zeke’s got witnesses that say Henry shot that nasty, two-legged crowbait in the back.”
As far as Caleb could tell, nobody in a thousand miles would miss the miserable bastard. He sure as hell wouldn’t. He could see Henry shooting it out with Stubbs if their neighbor provoked him again, but his friend wouldn’t put a man down from behind. Not without damn good reason.
“It ain’t Henry to shoot nobody in the back. Zeke knows better.” Caleb handed the reins to Malachi. “I better see what’s going on.”
“If you don’t mind me saying…” The livery man ran his eyes over Pirate and then Caleb. “Looks like the two of you been riding hard.”
“Take care of this good fella. What with this weather and all, he’s been through snowy hell this past week. And I’m gonna go and have a talk with that boar hog of a sheriff.”
“All right. But maybe you oughta talk to Doc Burnett first,” Malachi suggested. “Since your partner was brought in, Doc’s been wearing a path between the jail and the judge’s office. He’s sure to have a mouthful to tell you, the two of you being friends and all.”
Malachi was right. Zeke made no decisions. He did what he was told. His bread was buttered by Judge Patterson and he wouldn’t do anything to cross him. Talking to Doc first made sense.
Caleb nodded and realized Bear was ready to follow him. “You wait here. Stay.”
The dog planted his butt in the snow next to the livery owner.
“That all right, Malachi?”
“’Course.”
Caleb took a couple of steps and turned around. The livery man was just starting to lead Pirate into the stable. “Malachi, do you know if Elijah Starr is back in Elkhorn?”
“Don’t think so. But I’d reckon Doc would know that too.”
The Burnett house wasn’t far, but trudging through the deep snow was harder on his worn body than Caleb expected.
After two days, his left side still ached from the fall off the cliff, and it felt like at least one of his back ribs was busted and sticking into something else.
It didn’t matter a damn, though. He had things to do. He gritted his teeth and pushed on.
As Caleb came along the street where Doc’s house stood, memories of last summer poured in.
The house was the only one on the street with a porch, and Caleb’s friend made good use of it on warm evenings.
In the summer, he had a couple of rockers out there and a table big enough for the chess board.
At the end of the porch, he’d put a comfortable bench with a woven seat and back where Sheila liked to sit and read.
He climbed the steps and noticed the porch was empty of all but the coating of snow that had blown onto it. Doc had stored the furniture away somewhere, and the emptiness of it pierced Caleb like a sharp stick.
He sincerely hoped there’d be more summer evenings for him here. But the future was definitely looking bleak.
Light was pouring out the window from the front parlor, and he glanced in before knocking.
Inside, Sheila sat at the desk, writing a letter, from the look of it.
Her hair draped down her back in golden waves, reaching her waist. He didn’t usually get to see her hair down like that.
When they were together, she wore it in a thick braid.
Her face in profile was all concentration as the pen scratched hurriedly across the page.
She was like a picture from the page of a book.
For a moment, the ache in his ribs and the pounding in his head seemed to fade.
After days of snow and mountains and pain, the sight of her felt like stepping into sunlight.
Home wasn't a place, Caleb realized. Not really.
It was the people waiting for you when the journey was over.
For a moment, Caleb stood paralyzed by the wave of emotions that ran through him.
For a brief few instances over these past months, he’d allowed himself to dream, to think he might deserve the chance of having her in his life.
But he never did anything about it and never would now.
And all that talk about Paddy. Just wasted breath.
Caleb had no safe life and no home to give the boy.
Something in him felt broken. Ruined. And he hated the feeling.
A breeze lifted a swirl of snow and threw it against the door. Sheila’s eyes lifted from the paper, and she turned to the window. Realizing someone was on the porch, she rose quickly to her feet.
Caleb knocked on the door.
Sheila opened it, and her eyes immediately rounded. Before saying a word, she looked at him from top to bottom as he scraped the snow from his boots.
He took off his hat. “Sheila.”
She took his arm and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.
Her hand lingered on his sleeve as if she needed to be certain he was real.
For one impossible second, Caleb thought she might throw her arms around him. The look in her eyes said she wanted to.
“Marlowe!” She took his hat. Words and questions bubbled out, running into each other. “What happened to you? You’re hurt. Your face is cut. And bruised. That lump on your head. I smell smoke. Were you burned? Your clothes are…a mess!”
The worry in her voice struck him harder than the fall from the cliff had. No one had ever greeted him quite like this. No one had ever looked genuinely frightened at the thought of losing him.
Caleb shed his bearskin and looked down at himself. He was a mess. He saw several gaping holes in the coat and charred fur on the sleeve. He now understood why Malachi kept pushing him to see Doc first.
Doc Burnett came into the front room and paused. He appeared as amazed as his daughter for a few seconds.
“Look at him. He’s hurt,” she exclaimed.
“You were supposed to gather your herd and bring them back,” Doc said wryly, “not get trampled by them.”
“Had a change of plans.” This was one of the things Caleb liked about his friend. There was never panic.
Before they could say anything more, Sheila was pushing Caleb through the house toward the surgery.
Doc followed them and picked up a lamp as they went by the back parlor.
The surgery was empty and spotless as new linen.
Sheila led Caleb to the high operating table and had him sit as Doc lit the lamps.
The place looked quite a bit different from the night Doc took Tex Washington’s leg off.
He asked how the young fella was doing, and his friend told him he was mending and had moved to Belle’s boarding house this past Friday.
“But what happened to you?”
“A few things, but most of the damage come from jumping off the top of a mountain to get clear of a mama grizzly.”
“Did she happen to be on fire?” Sheila asked, pulling off his boots. “Because your face and eyebrows are singed, and the soles of your boots and your pants are burned too.”
“Well, I been thinking it’s time for some new duds.”
Doc agreed. “You look and smell like you’ve been rolling around in Malachi’s forge while someone pumped the bellows.”
“Well, I didn’t want to say so, but that’s exactly what happened. I might just have to take my business to the other end of town.”