Authors: John D. Nesbitt
On the ride into town, Fielding mulled over the news about Dunvil and Cronin. He found it amusing to imagine Cedric jolting away on a fast horse, but a lesser part of the story was interesting to
consider as well. Cedric must feel as if he had been left high and dry. His sponsor was gone, the object of his attentions had been taken away, and the Argyle had taken a big drop in status.
Thinking of Susan Buchanan led Fielding to another speculation. Her father must have known trouble was coming. He must have wanted to keep from being drawn in as well as to remove his daughter from the company of someone in Cronin's camp. The big augers were supposed to stick together, but Joseph Buchanan had looked out for himself. In that respect he was not much different from Henry Steelyard or even Selby and Roe.
When Fielding took the matched sorrels to the house where Leonora stayed, she came outside. Her face was lined and weary, and her brown hair was combed and pinned back. The glow of the setting sun colored her cheeks as she looked at the horses with an uncertain expression.
“I don't know what I could do with them,” she said.
“You don't have to decide right away. I can leave them at the livery stable for you. The saddles go with them.”
She gave a faint shrug, and her eyes tightened.
Fielding said, “I think Richard would want you to have them.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Richard was a good man. Everyone else in this valley was so stuck on his own self-interest that I thought Richard was the last good man on earth.” She blinked, and her eyes stayed moist. “Now I can see he wasn't. Thank you, Tom.”
He had to clear his throat to speak. “You're welcome, Leonora. I wish you all the best.”
Her lips moved, and then she spoke. “The same to you, Tom.”
Fielding turned into the lane at Roe's place at mid-morning. He was riding the buckskin and leading the other five. The dun was saddled for riding, and the remaining four carried all his belongings and gear.
Andrew Roe came out from the house and stood in the front yard, rubbing his face and waiting for Fielding to come to a stop. When Fielding swung down from his horse, Roe said, “Looks like you're packed up again. Off on another job?”
“Not today.” Fielding looked at the stubbled face, but the pale brown eyes did not hold steady. When they came back, Fielding spoke again. “I think I'm done here. Had enough of all this, and gonna move on.”
Roe's eyebrows lifted as he said, “Oh.” He glanced down the line. “Bel said you lost a couple of horses.”
“I did. Three altogether.”
Roe pushed out his lower lip and put his hands in his pockets.
When it seemed as if the man was not going to speak, Fielding asked, “Is she around? I wouldn't mind talkin' to her.”
“Oh, sure.” Roe turned and went on his slow way to the house.
Isabel came out a minute later, dressed in a clean white blouse and a pair of dark blue corduroy trousers. She tossed her wavy dark hair, and with a much lighter tone than her father's she said, “Good morning, Tom. I'm glad you came by.”
“It's good to see you.”
She glanced at the string of horses. “Are you on your way somewhere?”
He had thought through his words several times, but nervousness still got in the way. “I guess so. Wellâyes, I am. Like I said to your father and Bill Selby before that, I've had enough. There's only one thing keepin' me here, and that's you. I'm not walkin' away from you. If I need to, I can come back.”
Her eyes showed concern, but she did not seem flustered. “Where do you have in mind to go?”
“I'm not sure. Generally, north and west. I know I can find work anywhere I go.” As his eyes met hers, he could tell she was not troubled at all. His words came easier. “It seems like I've been on the move so much, and after a while a person thinks he'd like to try stayin' in one place. That's it. I'd like to have a place of my own. It doesn't have to be much.”
She had come a step closer. He could tell she had had a bath, as she smelled like dark cedar. Her eyes were shining as she said, “It's what you make of it, what it means to you.”
This was his moment. He took a deep breath and went on. “I might never have much to show for myself, but whatever I make, I'll do it without running over the top of someone else, or beating another man out of what he's got. It's one way of being freeâthat, and not having to make up to the bigwigs. If you think you can live with that, we can try boiling our coffee in the same pot.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Did you think I would say no?”
He tipped his head. “Not really. I just didn't know if you wanted me to come back later, after I had a place, or a definite situation, or whatever.”
She stepped back and looked over his string of horses again. “This looks good enough to go on,” she said.
He couldn't be sure he had heard what he did. It seemed as if all the tension he had ever felt had broken away. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you to come back.”
“Do you mean thatâ?”
“If you can wait a few minutes, you'll see for yourself.” She gave him a light kiss, then turned and walked to the house.
As he waited for what seemed like more than a few minutes, all of the clutter of Roe's seemed cheery. The falling-in shed, the heaps of barbed wire and posts, the hulks of wagonsâall of these things that used to weigh on him now seemed like old friends. If the gray geese had come out, he would have expected them to waddle up to him and wait to be petted.
The scuff of the door sounded, and Isabel came out into the sunlight with a satchel in each hand. Fielding could tell she had been crying, but she had her chin up and was smiling.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. We talked about it last night and again this morning. But still, it took a few minutes.”
She handed Fielding her bags, and he put them in the panniers of the bay horse. As he snugged the lash rope, he asked, “Is he going to come out and see you off?”
She shook her head. “He's a little moody right now. Everything will be all right when we come back.”
Fielding handed her the reins to the dun and
gave her a boost to help her into the saddle. When she nodded ready, he swung onto the buckskin.
They rode straight north out of the yard, across the trail, and onto the grassland. As they climbed a hill, the hoot of a train rose from the valley. They paused and turned the horses to take a last look at the town of Umber, and then they went on their way through the great rangeland, side by side, with the string of four horses behind them.