The Return of Caulfield Blake (23 page)

“Caulie, won't you read something?” Hannah asked, passing a Bible into his dirt-stained hands.

“I'm not so much for readin' another's words,” Caulie said, turning the book over in his hands. “My ma found comfort in this book, but I've rarely found much consolation in the death of a friend, of a good man like Marsh Merritt.”

Carter gazed up in surprise, and Caulie continued.

“I'd like to leave a preacher to read verses over this grave,” Caulie said, taking a deep breath. “What I've got to say comes from my heart. Just now we're all burdened with sadness. Marsh Merritt proved himself a good man, steady as a rock when the moment called for it. He did right by his family, loved 'em deeply, and gave his life that they might be safe. He's left behind a fine legacy in the memories of his wife, Hannah, his daughter, Sally, and the four boys.”

“Amen,” Carter said, gripping his mother's hand.

“I know each of you will have some private thoughts to pass along, so as we set our brother Marsh in this hallowed ground, I leave you to say your own good-byes.”

Caulie helped the Salazars place Marsh's body in the soggy grave. He then stepped aside as each of the others filed past and sprinkled dirt over the corpse.

“Good-bye, Pa,” Carter said, kneeling beside the trench.

Zach whispered something, then led Sally along. Hannah came last of all. She held the twins tightly. The bewildered boys kept glancing around in search of Marsh. It tore at Caulie's heart to read the confusion in those tear-filled eyes.

Carlos stayed to help fill in the grave. Caulie shoveled a few inches of dirt into the hole, then passed the spade and tried to rub the soreness out of his back.

“They will come soon,” Carlos said as he scooped dirt into the open grave. “I saw his eyes.”

“Yes,” Caulie agreed. “Won't be long now.”

“I know this Simpson. He will bring them all this time.”

“Likely,” Caulie agreed. “And then it will be over.”

They filled in the grave completely, then tamped down the dirt. A stone would be placed later. Caulie hoped there would be need of but one.

Caulie passed the morning nervously watching the slope leading to Carpenter Creek. Except for accepting a platter of ham and eggs from Zach, Caulie spoke to no one. Finally there was a movement from across the creek, but it wasn't Henry Simpson.

Dix Stewart drove a wagon into the shallows of the creek, then continued across the stream and along toward the house. Caulie limped out to greet his old friend. As the wagon drew closer, Caulie saw that Rita sat in the bed with little Charlie's head resting on her knee.

“What's wrong?” Caulie called to them.

“Riders!” Dix shouted, pointing behind him. “Three or four round sunrise. Others followin' along. I figured we'd have a better chance together.”

Caulie nodded as he pulled himself up on the seat beside Dix. Gazing back toward the creek, Caulie detected a pair of horsemen. Simpson! But at least the old man hadn't sent an army at them, as he might have.

Dix drove the wagon as far as the house before pausing. Caulie climbed down and hobbled around back. He took a barely conscious Charlie in his arms and carried the boy to the porch. Zach swung the door open wide, and Caulie continued on inside. Hannah conducted him back to the boys' room and pointed to Zach's bed. Caulie laid Charlie on the bed, and Hannah spread a blanket over the injured boy.

“I was so sorry to hear about Marsh,” Rita said, clutching Hannah's hands. “It seems to be a summer of death.”

“Yes,” Hannah said, frowning as she brushed back a strand of dirty blond hair from Charlie's forehead. “It's a hard life out here sometimes. Poor Charlie. He isn't feverish?”

“That's passed. The bleeding's better as well.”

“Given time, boys have a way of mending,” Hannah said, swallowing her own sadness.

“He'll have that time,” Caulie said, running his fingers along Charlie's shoulder. The boy's eyes cracked open, and a faint smile came to his lips. Caulie supplied a grin of his own, then turned to join Dix outside.

Zach and Carter were already there. Each of the youngsters cradled a long-barreled Winchester. Caulie followed their eyes to the creek where a half-dozen riders were forming up. At their head rode Henry Simpson. The old man shouted orders and waved his hands wildly. The cowboys glanced around as if bewildered.

“They don't seem any too eager to approach,” Dix noted. “Not too many of 'em, either.”

“No,” Caulie agreed. “Could be they've turned cautious.”

Well, we've killed a few of 'em, Caulie thought as he grimly watched the approach of the Diamond S riders. These were no gunmen with Simpson this time, just range cowboys. It was hard to find hatred for such men. Henry Simpson, though, was a different matter.

“Zach, best run down to the barn and bring the Salazars to the house,” Caulie suggested. “Not much cover back that way. Get that wagon out of the way, too.”

“Sure, Pa,” Zach said, scampering away.

“Carter, you take the front window,” Caulie instructed. “But first make sure the little ones are out of the way.”

Carter nodded and set about the task.

“So, it's come down to this,” Dix grumbled as he readied himself for the upcoming melee. “Seems as if we've done this before.”

“Once or twice.”

“Seems strange that so many should've died for one man's greed.”

Caulie nodded, then grimly waited for Zach to return with the Salazars. Simpson had finally persuaded his cowboys to cross the creek. The riders now closed the distance slowly, cautiously.

“Zach, they're cornin'!” Caulie shouted.

The boy soon appeared, leading the Salazar family along toward the back door. Caulie motioned Dix toward the house, then followed his old friend inside.

Simpson led his company up the hill not so much intentionally as from the fact that the others seemed reluctant to ride ahead of their boss. Simpson himself was furious. Even as he neared the house, he waved violently toward his crew.

“I said to ride!” the old man screamed. “There aren't but a few of them left. They killed my son. Now they've killed Matt, too!”

Simpson himself made no move, though, and the others held back. Caulie stepped to the door as Zach conducted Roberto and Carlos Salazar down the hall to the front room.

“Watch the side windows,” Dix instructed. “Be ready.”

“They're in range already,” Carter pointed out. “Shouldn't we open up?”

“Be patient,” Caulie said as he stepped out onto the veranda. “Simpson, hold it right there!”

“I've come for you, Blake!” Simpson responded.

“You?” Caulie said, laughing. “You old fool, you're licked. You've not got any Olie Swain or Doyle Opley with you now. These are workin' cowboys. They didn't ride up here to get killed!”

“They do as I say!” Simpson said, again gesturing to his companions. One or two started, but Dix fired a shot in front of the first, and Carter fired just short of the second.

“Go home, boys!” Caulie called. “There's been enough lollin'.”

“We mean you no harm, Mr. Blake!” the nearest drover called.

“Coward!” Simpson yelled, pulling a pistol and firing at the cowboy. The young rider stared in disbelief as a bullet tore into his shoulder.

“Colonel?” the wounded cowboy called.

“Now the rest of you get after them!” Simpson yelled. “Go on!”

“Can't you see it's over, Colonel Simpson?” a drover with bright red hair asked.

Simpson turned to fire again, but the wounded cowboy pulled a pistol and fired first. Henry Simpson rocked in his saddle, then stared wild-eyed at Caulie before falling earthward.

“Like I said, it's over!” the redheaded cowboy called down to Caulie. “We're headed home. We leave you to your range.”

The cowboys gathered around their wounded comrade and assisted him along. In what seemed an impossibly brief time, the cowboys recrossed Carpenter Creek and vanished into the obscure horizon. Caulie, meanwhile, made his way slowly to where Henry Simpson's body lay in a pool of blood.

“Well, old man?” Caulie called. “Have you brought enough death to this land at last?”

The old rancher's eyes stared blankly at the sky, but Caulie found no sympathy for his old nemesis. There had been too much pain, too many lost years and interrupted dreams.

“Leave him!” Dix called. “Leave him for the hawks!”

“No, it's best he's buried in town. We'll load him in the wagon.”

“We'll take him in,” Roberto Salazar spoke up from the porch. “If we can borrow your wagon, Senor Stewart.”

“Take it,” Dix said, shaking his head. “Come on, Caulie. Let's go see Charlie.”

Caulie sat on one of the small beds in the comer of the boys' bedroom while Dix Stewart visited with his son. Charlie was still pale as death, but a sparkle of life had returned to his eyes, and somehow Caulie knew the boy would recover. Hannah had said it. The young always seem to mend.

Caulie knew other wounds would heal as well. The small ones who slept in the two miniature beds would recover in time from the death of their father. Even now little Todd and Wylie began to realize Marsh would not reappear. There were no tears, just a sort of bewildered whimpering that pained Caulie all the more because he could do so little to soothe it.

It will pass, Caulie assured himself. They've got brothers around that can teach them to ride, to rope steers and make river crossings. They've got a strong mother who can put steel in their backbones.

In a way, Caulie even envied them. At least they belonged somewhere. Caulfield Blake already felt himself drifting again.

“Where will you go now?” Dix asked a half hour later as the two of them prowled the hillside. “Back to the Clear Fork?”

“I've got horses there,” Caulie explained.

“Hannah will need somebody now.”

“She's got Zach and Carter. They're not boys anymore to have their hands held crossin' streams or their tails blistered for prankin' neighbors. They're men.”

“They'll have needs, too,” Dix argued. “Stay. I can read her eyes, Caulie. You'd be welcome.”

“Maybe in time.”

“Now! If you don't feel right livin' under her roof, take the cabin awhile. Or come to town with us. Lord knows there's work enough for a dozen Caulfield Blakes there, what with the store a shambles.”

“You might give thought to hirin' the Salazars, Dix.”

“No, they've vowed to return to Ox Hollow. Folks want their own fields to tend, you know.”

“I'd like to stay,” Caulie admitted. “I want to. I need them. But it's not for me to say.”

“Do this for me, Caulie. Don't let that mule stubbornness send you runnin' away again. Your place is here, on this very land where your folks lie buried.”

“They're not the only ones buried here now,” Caulie said, turning away. And the shadow from Marsh's grave fell clearly across Hannah's door.

Dix and Rita prepared to return to town a little after midday. Caulie helped pack Charlie in the bed of a Bar Double B wagon.

“You'll come visit?” the boy asked, brightening some as Caulie gripped his small, terribly cold fingers.

“Be chasin' you down the creek in a week,” Caulie promised.

“I'll hold you to that,” Dix declared as he helped Rita into the bed. “The both of you.”

The wagon then headed off south toward the junction of the market road, and Caulie felt terrifyingly alone. Zach then took his hand and led the way toward the barn.

“Thought we might give the horses a good brushing,” Zach said. “If you're up to it.”

“I am.”

“Seems like just yesterday you were riding in,” Zach mumbled. “Things have gotten awful quiet. The Salazars have gone, and now the Stewarts leave. Todd and Wylie won't go down to the creek without Carter or me along. Sally just sits with Ma and holds the knitting yarn. It's like . . .”

“Someone died?” Caulie asked. “Someone has.”

“When Grandma Siler died, we all had a good cry and then got on with things. This time is different.”

“It's expected somehow for old people to go. She was sick awhile, too.”

“Marsh wasn't. One minute he was walking tall and proud. The next he was dead.”

“Bullets do a fair job of cuttin' a man down.”

“Pa, Carter says you'll likely leave. You won't, will you?”

“It'd seem best. My work's finished.”

“Finished? You just got here.” Zach walked away a minute, then returned and leaned against his father's weary side. “I know you've got business up north, but it can wait a bit, can't it? We'll ride up there and help you later. We need you.”