North to the Salt Fork (3 page)

“We don't get a guest very often,” Lucille said.

“I hope I'm not a guest, but a friend you've invited in for dinner.”

She smiled, set the mashed potatoes next to his plate and took her place beside him, placing a napkin in her lap. “After you say grace, you're on your own,” she said wryly.

The kids laughed.

“Let us pray. . . .” He reached out and placed his left hand over hers. It had been a while since he'd been singled out to do this job.

“Father, we're gathered together here today for our noon meal in fellowship. We're grateful for all the food and the fine weather. Heal Luke's leg quickly so he can go back to enjoying his life. Bring us some rain down the valley for the grass and crops. And, Lord, let us live in peace. Thank you again for our friends and help us forgive our enemies. In Jesus' name, amen. Now pass the gravy, please.”

Everyone nodded in approval. He'd passed the first test.

As everyone busily filled their plates, Jack decided to mention his earlier encounter. “I ran into a man this morning. Hiram Sawyer.” He checked all their faces for a reaction.

Tally scowled. Luke made a sour look, and Lucille glanced up at him while buttering her bread. “What did he say?”

“I guess I didn't have the right papers to stay in this country. He told me to light a shuck.”

“He did?” Lucille blinked her doe brown eyes in disbelief. “Why?”

“Seems my kind ain't welcome up here.”

“Kind? What kind did he say you were?”

He shrugged. “I must have failed some test of his.”

“Oh no,” Lucille said and rose up in righteousness. “He has no right to threaten you.”

“What did you do to him?” Luke asked with a snicker, but his mother's frown silenced him.

“What did I consider doing to him, or what did I really do?”

Tally started laughing and the laughter became contagious.

Jack wiped his mouth on the napkin before he spoke. “I told him I sure wasn't leaving on his account.”

“Maw, tell him about what you did to Hiram,” Luke said.

Lucille stiffened and slowly lowered her knife and fork. “Three years ago, the day I got word that their father had been killed in service to his country, Hiram appeared at my door, ready for me to sign the ranch and everything else over to him. He must have followed the soldier that brought us the news. He said he was calling in the loan Felton, my husband, had made. He assumed since I was a widow that I couldn't pay it, and he was taking over the property.”

Jack looked over at her with a hard scowl. “What did you do?”

“I paid him every dime in Confederate money and he had to take it. The money was still good back then. He was the most shocked man in Texas that day.”

“How much did you owe him?”

“Two hundred and fifty.”

A chuckle came from deep in his throat. “And I bet he still has that money in his safe.”

“Ain't any good now, is it?” Luke asked.

“Not worth a dime,” Jack confirmed.

“So now you know all about Hiram Sawyer,” Lucille said. “You've met one of this family's biggest enemies.”

“But that's not all, Maw. Tell him about the other thing. Tell him.” Tally elbowed her mother.

“There isn't anything to tell,” Lucille said, her face flushing a delicate pink. Jack observed her closely and looked back and forth between the kids.

“Yes, there is,” Luke said with a big know-it-all grin.

Lucille sighed. “Sometime back, Hiram came calling, armed with a bouquet of flowers and candy. Said he was there to make amends. I never invited him off his horse. I told him it wasn't necessary because I wasn't excusing him for his bad manners.”

“Tell him what you did next,” Luke said, egging her on.

Looking peeved, Lucille glared at her son, but decided to go on anyway. “I reached in, grabbed the twelve-gauge and fired it over his head.” Jack leaned back in his chair, amazed at the woman's sheer bravado.

“And, Captain, that horse about bucked him off as it ran for the gate,” Tally said, clapping her hands together in delight.

Jack leaned forward and gently rubbed Lucille's hand to reassure her. “You did just fine. He had it coming.”

“We were sure glad he dropped the candy.” Luke was laughing so hard that tears ran down his tanned face.

“What did you do with the bouquet?” Jack asked between choruses.

“Luke's dog, Russel, got it and tore it to shreds,” Tally said. “I mean, that collie had a fit about it.”

Jack sat back in his chair, letting out a laugh of his own. “Then I don't feel bad about sending him down the road this morning.”

Not that he wasn't worried about future run-ins with the jilted man. If there was a fly in the ointment, it would be Hiram Sawyer.

There was lots to fix around the Thorntons' ranch with Luke laid up, so Lucille didn't turn down Jack's offer to trade work for his keep. There was a spare bedroom in a shed where part-time hired hands stayed, but it had been empty for a while. That afternoon the women swept down the cobwebs, scrubbed the dirt floor and fixed the place up while he spent time with Luke.

“You have any crutches?” he asked the boy.

Luke made a face. “No, I'm confined to a chair most days.”

“Well, then, I'm loading you in a wheelbarrow, and we're going down to that workshop I saw near the barn to make you some.”

Luke gave a big grin. “That'd sure be alright with me.”

The shop, Jack found, was well equipped for blacksmith and carpentry work and just about anything else. He made sticks from some lumber he found and sanded smooth. After taking Luke's measurements, he fashioned saddlelike pieces to go under the boy's armpits. Luke sat in the wheelbarrow, absently petting two stock dogs that came into the shop, looking for company.

“You sure can do lots of things with wood,” Luke marveled. “But I'm more interested in horseshoeing. Could you teach me?”

“We can work on it. I'm not an expert, but I could try.”

Luke sighed. “Dad always did it, before he was gone. I wished I'd learned more from him.”

“I know,” Jack said wistfully. “Boys never pay attention enough to what their fathers try to teach them. I was no different. But you can't take it back—you just have to learn from it. Now, let's try this crutch deal.”

He helped Luke out of the wheelbarrow and stood him upright, fitting the crutches under his arms. “Take your time. They weren't meant for running. I know you can go faster than they want to. Just be patient.”

Soon Luke was easily crossing the length of the shop. His mother leaned against the doorframe and shook her head. “You made it so he can get around, huh?”

“A boy wasn't made that couldn't be helped.” Jack admired his charge.

“Well, Luke,” Tally said, coming in behind her mother. “Now that you can get around so well, maybe you can go back to milking that dang old cow.”

“Not yet,” Lucille said sternly. “I'm still going to rely on you for that, young lady.”

“Ah, Maw,” Tally said with a sour look on her face.

“Your room is ready when you want to move in,” Lucille said to Jack, changing the subject.

“I'll have all my stuff in there by dark.” Jack smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you for the crutches,” she said, holding Jack's gaze for a moment before turning away. “Let's go find some supper.” She led the parade back to the house.

Tally ran into the house with Luke hobbling after her while Lucille lingered at the porch to wait for Jack. “I left some of Felton's clothes on the bed for you. I could wash yours tomorrow.”

“That would be nice. They sure could use it.”

“Not a problem. By the way, I can tell Luke was very proud of his crutches.”

“Well, he's a good kid. They both are,” Jack said, brushing aside the compliment.

“Oh, they can be a handful,” she responded with a laugh.

“You manage it well.” He stopped in the sundown's red light and looked around. How long would he be able to stay? Would Sawyer try to run him off her place after the shotgun welcome she gave him?

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I wonder what Sawyer's got on his mind now. What's that small town I rode through on my way to the schoolhouse dance?”

“Shedville?”

“I reckon.”

“About eight miles east.”

“On the
fur
side of Lost Dog Falls?”

She laughed and went to get him some hot water to wash up with. “Why do you ask? You plan on paying the town a visit anytime soon?” she called from the other room.

Jack wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Lucille that he planned to ride into town and learn all he could about Sawyer. Jack had made himself an enemy, but he wasn't sure how tough a one he'd be. He'd need to find out.

“No reason,” he casually replied. “Just thought I'd get some supplies. So, what're we eating for supper tonight?”

“Chicken again. I warn you: we eat a lot of it in this house.”

“No problem. I get to crowing, you'll know I've had enough.” They shared a chuckle, but his mind was still on Sawyer.

Jack awoke suddenly in the middle of the night and shot bolt upright in bed, straining to hear what sounded as if it was a hard-ridden horse coming up to the ranch. What time was it, and who'd come at this ungodly hour? Something must be wrong. He threw back the light blanket and quickly dressed in one of Lucille's husband's shirts and canvas pants, buckled on his six-gun and headed for the house under the stars.

When he rounded the corner of the front porch he heard a man on a hard-breathing cow pony, talking to Lucille. “Jack, listen to Craig Ketchem here. He came over to tell us some real bad news,” Lucille said with a worried look on her face.

Jack and Craig exchanged quick nods. “They burned out Jason Holmes tonight on Owl Mountain. They kilt him and his wife. Took all of his good horses.”

“Who do you suppose did it?” Jack asked.

“Comanches, we think,” Craig said angrily.

“Strange time of year for them, isn't it? They usually come after their buffalo hunts in the fall.”

“Them bloodthirsty devils don't care,” Craig sneered. “They'll show up anytime they need the loot.”

“You're right, but I need to see this for myself. Figure out if there's anything that can be done. You've had Comanche trouble in this area before?”

“Oh yeah, lots of it,” Craig confirmed.

“Lucille, I'll be back,” Jack called over his shoulder as he headed toward the barn with Craig. “I'm going to ready my horse.”

“I'll pack you some food,” she called back.

“That'd be much appreciated.” He turned to Craig. “How far away is this place?”

“Five miles west.”

“Can you take me there?” Jack asked the rancher.

“Sure, but I wanted to tell—”

“Lucille and Tally will tell the others,” Jack said reassuringly. When Lucille followed a few minutes later with sandwiches, she wholeheartedly agreed to Jack's plan. “You two see what you can do about those killers. The Holmeses were good people, Jack. Both of them.”

After Jack saddled Mac and filled his bags with supplies, he exchanged a few words with Lucille. He learned that Craig Ketchem was a stockman and bachelor who lived close to the Holmeses' ranch. He had seen the flames blazing from their house, and had immediately set out to investigate. He had a few Mexicans watching his place while he was away, so Jack needn't worry that Craig was leaving his ranch open to attack if the Comanches weren't done for the night.

“Keep that rifle and shotgun handy,” Jack said close to her ear. “I hate leaving you three alone.”

“We'll be double careful. I promise.” Lucille squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I'll be back in a day.”

“Just you be careful,” she said in a low, concerned whisper.

 

The two men rode out. Craig didn't have much to say on the ride over, which was fine with Jack. They pushed hard to arrive at the smoldering ranch ruins by daybreak. Many people were gathered, and two graves had already been dug. Wagons were parked all over the ranch, and various women wrapped in blankets cooked breakfast over campfires for the men.

“Isn't that Hiram Sawyer?” Jack asked Craig privately when he caught sight of the man.

“That's him.” Craig made a sour face. “I figure he had a note on this place. He loans money to many of the ranchers.”

“I know. Lucille told me about him. Guess he came to collect on his loan today,” Jack said with a bitter edge to his tone.

“I never thought of it that way, but I bet that's the truth.”

Jack led Mac through the crowd. A man with a ranger badge was talking to several armed boys around him.

“Good day,” Jack said, dismounting. “I hear you think Comanches did this. I'm curious to know what led you to believe that.”

“Why?” the ranger spat out in disbelief, his face reddening. “Hell, they're the only ones that'll kill so brutally. What do you know about Indians anyway?”

“Before the war I served under Captain Steele in the rangers,” Jack smoothly replied.

The ranger settled down and nodded as if he were deep in thought. “Clifton, you go and show this ranger the corpses.”

“Yes, sir,” the young man nodded. “Come with me, sir.”