Authors: Sandra Chastain
Josie rode beside Callahan, who traveled at an easy pace. She had never been south of Laramie on horseback, so she was surprised to find the countryside so lush and green. Laramie existed because of the railroad. By the time Dr. Annie, Dan, and Josie had arrived, the town had saloons, a hotel, a store, a jail, a newly formed city government that had rid the town of its riffraff, a town marshal who was once accused of murder in Cheyenne, and soldiers at the nearby fort.
In the years since, Wyoming had given women the right to vote and serve on juries. They’d discovered gold in the Snowy Mountain Range, and the population was growing. But this section of the territory, near the Colorado border, was still sparsely settled cattle and farming country.
As the sun rose beyond the hills in the east, a peaceful glow was cast over the plains, and with it came a gentle
breeze that ruffled the tall sage grass and spread its pungent odor. Had it not been for the danger, Josie might have enjoyed the ride. To be alone with a man like Callahan was something new to her, and the warmth she felt had more to do with the man riding beside her than the glow of the sun.
They followed the river, east to west, their horses scaring up wildlife nesting in the grass and insects hovering over the blossoms. For a while Josie kept an anxious eye on Callahan, and he seemed not only to be holding up well, but to be rejuvenated as they drew nearer his ranch. She didn’t know whether it was the sun or the activity that was bringing faint color to his cheeks. The deep worry lines she was so accustomed to seeing on his forehead seemed to have relaxed, and he sat straighter in the saddle. How would he feel when he learned that Ben was not there? What would he do?
“We’re on Callahan land now,” he said with pride. “I never thought I’d own my own place. I know it doesn’t look like much to you, but with the new cattle and a little luck it could have been.”
“It still can, Callahan. Don’t give up. A man who came back from the dead can do anything.”
“Not without Ben,” he said, and turned his horse into the stand of cottonwoods that bordered both sides of the small river. “All of this was his dream. I lost any hope for a future long ago.”
He fell silent for a moment, then added, “I was surprised when Ben suggested raising cattle. I always thought he was more the schoolmaster type, or maybe a banker. In the beginning I thought he was doing this for me, but later he seemed almost happy. You know, we might have made it.”
“You like raising cattle?”
“Cattle? Yeah, I do. It’s the kind of thing a man can do himself. He doesn’t have to rely on … workers. We hired an extra hand or two at branding time, but otherwise we managed.” Callahan fell silent for a few minutes, then said, “We have to be careful now, Josie. The barn is just across the river, beyond the trees.”
Josie didn’t have to be told. On the flat plains she had already seen the outline of the ranch in the distance. “What do you intend to do?”
“First, I’m going to search the buildings. If …” He let his voice trail off. “If he isn’t here, we’ll stay here until dark, then we ride into town.”
She noticed he didn’t mention searching further for Ben. Perhaps he knew this was a futile trip. Still, with every word he spoke, he seemed more determined, more in charge, stronger.
He chose a wide, shallow spot in the river and signaled his horse forward with a nudge of his heels.
Josie followed.
Old Solomon balked at going into the water, until he saw Callahan’s horse start across, then he trailed along at his normal, plodding pace.
They reached the clearing between the stand of cottonwood trees and the barn, and Callahan drew his horse to a stop, motioning that Josie should do the same. He slid from the saddle and leaned against the horse while he tested his legs.
Letting out a deep sigh, he said, “Wait here until I signal.”
“And if you don’t? Shall I come when you fall on your behind, or just wait around here until you get shot again?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he crouched down and ran in an uneven gait toward the back of the barn. His
dexterity amazed her, though it shouldn’t have. Callahan’s speed announced his determination, his awkwardness betrayed the still tender injury in his groin. She could see his right hand as it reached for the spot where his gun should have been, but wasn’t. The morning suddenly went silent. Since waiting had never been Josie’s style, she certainly didn’t intend to do it now.
As quietly as possible she slid off old Solomon, flipped his reins over a low branch, and followed Callahan’s path. Something about the silence told her that they were alone.
The barn was empty, except for one lone chicken pecking seed from the grain in the corner. Josie heard the creak of steps in the hayloft overhead and was looking around for a place to hide when she saw Callahan’s feet backing down the ladder. He tightened his lips when he turned and caught sight of her.
“Don’t you ever do as you’re told?” he asked.
“Of course. But I also do what I think is best in a given situation,” she said patiently, “and I’m thinking, after what’s happened, you ought to be glad that I do. Looks like the barn is empty.”
“Yes.” Callahan didn’t seem surprised.
She hadn’t expected to find Ben here. Bear Claw said Ben was with the wagon train, which was north of Laramie. She knew that Bear Claw was right. But she also knew that Callahan had to find out for himself.
“I’m going to tell you one more time, Josie,
stay put.
I didn’t steal the ranchers’ money, and with any luck I’ll be able to prove it. But if anything happens to you, I’ll be strung up to the nearest tree.”
The stern look in his eyes slipped for a moment, and she caught a flash of something she could only interpret as worry.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he whispered.
“Nothing will.” She reached out, almost touching him, then stopped. As they stood, only inches apart, she watched him start to speak, then turn away.
“I mean it Josie, please.”
She nodded and watched him walk toward his house.
Callahan moved slowly, refusing to stoop or run on his own land. Josie had been right. He’d virtually come back from the dead. He wouldn’t have come this far if he wasn’t supposed to make it. He’d been through a lot in the past, but had always survived. This time was different. He wasn’t alone. Josie had saved him and she refused to give up, even risking her reputation by accompanying him here to the ranch. He could only guess how hard that had been. It was hard for him, too, in another way. He could feel the heat of her presence, and it had taken all his strength to turn and walk away from her just now.
He reached the house, put one foot on the bottom step of the sagging porch, and listened. He didn’t have to be told the house was vacant; he sensed it before he pushed open the door and stepped inside. It looked exactly as it had the morning he and Ben left to transport the money to Laramie. He hadn’t truly expected Ben to be here, but he’d hoped, and now that hope was gone.
Wearily, he sank down in the rocking chair Ben had insisted on bringing from South Carolina. It had been falling apart, but it had been the only thing left of his mother’s, except for her cameo. Through the winter, Ben had spent hours replacing the cane in the chair. The chair was still here, but along with the missing money, the cameo was gone too.
Callahan leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. How in the world was he going to find Ben without getting caught himself? he wondered.
“Callahan, are you all right?” Josie’s voice came from the porch.
Callahan cleared his throat and swallowed the lump that threatened to close it completely. But he hadn’t moved quickly enough, because before he could erase the moisture at the corners of his eyes, Josie was before him, on her knees, her hands holding his. She looked like the angel he’d called her. A bit tattered and dusty, but an angel nonetheless. Now they were alone. The house seemed smaller.
He’d allowed himself to hold her last night in the wagon, telling himself that it would be the last time. Once they reached Sharpsburg, she’d be forbidden treasure—seen, touched, and relinquished. He couldn’t be with her now, not when he was facing prison or worse, not after all they’d been through, not after he’d lost Ben.
“Don’t worry, Callahan. We’ve come this far. We’ll find him.”
Her hands were soft against his rough ones, holding them gently. She gave him her strength and compassion with her touch. He pulled off her hat and studied her openly, allowing himself to see what he so badly needed now, the courage of those decisions she made regardless of the consequences.
Blue eyes looked back at him, clear and honest. This must be what a man could expect from a woman who cared about him. But he couldn’t be sure because he’d never seen it before.
“You have to go back to Sharpsburg,” he said in a voice so tight he wasn’t certain she understood. “You’ve done enough.”
“You know I can’t.”
He fought off the urge to put his arms around her. “If you go now, you can say I forced you to bring me here.”
She cupped his face, rubbing her fingertips against the stubble of his beard, as if she were comforting a child. “I know now what Bear Claw’s ghost horse meant.”
Callahan was baffled. What did this have to do with Sharpsburg?
“The night you came to me, I saw it on the ridge in the storm. The Sioux—or at least some of them—believe that when you see the ghost horse it means a person is about to be claimed by the spirit world. But you didn’t die. I don’t know why, but I think it means that we are supposed to … care for each other.”
Callahan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to answer her, and he didn’t know what to do about the closing distance between their faces as she leaned forward and kissed him. Her touch was light, gentle, almost shy. For a moment he allowed himself to feel her gentleness and the sweet illusion her touch inspired.
When he finally pulled back, she lifted her eyes in uncertainty. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I know I’m not very good at this.” She lowered her gaze in embarrassment, and in that moment Callahan felt like the liar and thief he’d been branded. What she didn’t understand was that her actions could hurt her even more than her embarrassment.
“Don’t do this, Josie. What you’re feeling now, it isn’t real. You saved my life and now you feel responsible. But I’m tired, and I’m still weak, and it’s been a long time since a lady kissed me. Go back to Sharpsburg, find Ellie and Will, and tell them I passed out and you got away.”
She stood up and turned toward the window, her brow furrowed in uncertainty. He wondered how long it had been since Josie Miller hadn’t known exactly who she was and what she was doing.
“You didn’t find Ben, but you still need me to get into
the bank, to check those loan papers. That is what you came here for, isn’t it?”
He gave a dry laugh. “And how are
you
going to get me into the bank, pick the lock?”
“If I have to. I don’t know what’s happened in your life,” Josie said in low, tight voice, “to keep you from trusting people, but I can understand it. It took me a long time to learn that when somebody offers help, you should accept and appreciate it and try to become the person they believe you can be. I saved your life. That ought to be enough to have earned your trust.”
“Trust?” he questioned, his body a mass of quivering muscles. “The last time I trusted you I ended up in jail.”
“I couldn’t stop that, Callahan.”
And he couldn’t stop his response. He’d punished his body and it was protesting. Even now, the air between them was turning as hot as a desert wind. “Josie. I trust you, but I still haven’t earned your trust. And I won’t be able to prove myself until this is over. That’s the way it is.”
“Callahan, I’m not judging you. Dan and Dr. Annie took me in when nobody else would. They didn’t know how I’d turn out. They told me they cared. I still don’t understand why. But they did. They taught me that caring comes from a kind of internal goodness. People either have it or they don’t. Sometimes we can’t see it or explain it, but when it’s there, it’s there. You just have to believe it in your heart. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
With a stubbly growth of beard on his craggy face, Callahan looked every inch an outlaw. Josie knew that believing anyone cared about him was beyond Callahan’s present state of mind. Her passionate speech came from the knowledge that she was beginning to believe in his goodness. The kind of goodness that comes from loyalty
and love. Wherever he was, nothing was going to stop him from finding his brother and saving this ranch. Not her. Not bullets. Not the law.
Callahan might be an outlaw, but he didn’t lie. She was the dishonest one, one minute pretending to be an outstanding member of the community, the next, reverting to her street-urchin, pickpocket ways.
“It’s been a long time since I believed in anything, Josie,” Callahan said finally. “Don’t try to make me more than I am. I’m not a very nice person. I told you that before and now it’s time for you to believe it. Years ago I went away to fight for the south, not out of any great sense of patriotism, but because I almost killed my old man. I didn’t know until the war started that he wasn’t my real father. He’d promised my mother that nobody would ever find out. She was the one with the plantation, you see. He was her pa’s overseer. Once Ben came along, I was in the way. So when South Carolina seceded, I joined the army. I thought he’d be proud. But in the end he was killed by a band of Yankee soldiers who were raping and stealing from anyone who was still alive. The plantation was lost. I couldn’t even save my mother and sister. And now I’ve lost Ben.”
“You tried, Callahan. That’s all that matters,” she said quietly.
“The one thing I learned was that the victor reaps the spoils, even if they are criminals. The loser only loses. And pride? It’s not worth the tin cup you use to spit it in. After the war, there were no graves for my family, and Ben had disappeared. I’d lost everything.”
“Believe me, I understand about loss. But that’s in the past. What we both need right now is food. Any chance there’s something here to eat?”