This Loving Land (23 page)

Tom got to his feet when Jesse came out onto the veranda. Night had come and Jesse wasn’t aware of it.

“Is it over?” Tom stood, awkwardly, twisting his dusty hat round and round in his hands.

“Yes, it’s over.” Jesse was dog-tired, and his voice showed it.

“If’n I’d just been a mite sooner, Jesse. . . .”

“You couldn’t of known, Tom. I thought it would be me and Travis.”

“Yes, but. . . .”

“It’s over, and I thank you for what you done. If you hadn’t of, I’d of had to do it.” Jesse rolled a smoke with not quite steady fingers, “What’s the word from Slane?”

“They killed a few of them and the rest gave up when they saw what they was up against. They got ’em hog-tied fer the night and ’ll start out with ’em in the mornin’.” Tom went to the edge of the porch and spit. “I knowed Travis was runnin’ with a wild bunch, but didn’t know he’d got in so deep.”

“I knew it, Tom. So did the captain.”

“He had a cruel, mean streak a mile wide. Showed up when he was no bigger than knee-high to a jack rabbit. Guess his ma givin’ him everythin’ he wanted didn’t help it none.”

“Guess not.”

Tom stood silently, then said: “The boys has hammered up two real nice boxes, Jesse.” He paused. “Good, clean wood.”

“It was good of them. I’ll get a wagon from Jack and we’ll head for home come daylight.”

When Sadie finished with Ellen, she drew a clean sheet up over her face. It had been a distasteful job, but one she wouldn’t have shirked for anything. It was for Jesse, she kept telling herself. If I only get the chance to make it up to him, she prayed. I’II make him feel happy and wanted and loved.

Whispering instructions, because Summer sat at the table sleeping, her head on her folded arms, she sent John Austin up to bed and undressed the protesting Mary. The child wanted to see Jesse. Sadie promised that maybe, just maybe, Jesse would come in and say something to her. That satisfied the little girl. Sadie fervently hoped she would go to sleep and it wouldn’t be necessary for her to ask Jesse to do such a trivial thing.

Later, she went out onto the porch, balancing a plate of food in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Jesse got up and came to her, taking the cup from her hand. She stood hesitantly.

“Sit with me.” He sounded bone-weary.

“If n you eat this.”

“I’ll eat.”

She sat beside him. He ate the food quickly and emptied the cup.

“Guess I was hungry. Any more coffee? Sit still, I’ll get it.”

When he returned, he sat quite close to her and, to her surprise, picked up her hand and held it enfolded in his. After a while he spoke.

“Guess you’re wondering about me and . . . Ellen.”

“Well . . .” His words had taken her by surprise.

He set his cup down and took her hand between both of his, playing with her fingers.

“I don’t know if anybody would understand it but me.”

“I’ll . . . understand.” Sadie held her breath. Was she too bold? Had she lied? Could she understand?

“It’s a long story. Maybe too long for one telling, but I want to tell you about it. I never told it before and I’m not sure I can make anyone understand how it was. You’d of had to lived like I did to know how it was.” He leaned over with his forearms on his spread thighs, her hand clasped in both of his, and began to talk.

“I’m from over around Nacogdoches. I never did know how I come to be dropped off with folks that worked on Ellen’s grandpa’s place. They were the white trash that worked alongside the slaves and had a whole houseful of kids. One more didn’t make no never mind.” He drew in a deep breath and leaned his head back against the house. “When I was real young, a woman used to come to see me. I can just barely remember. She was pretty and smelled nice and I’d sit on her lap. It was the bright thing in my life. It didn’t last. She stopped coming. I looked and waited for her until I started looking and waiting for Ellen. I can’t remember when I first saw Ellen. She lived with her grandpa in a great big fancy house. They were among the uppity-ups and didn’t have no truck with the likes of us, but Ellen took to coming down to the shanties. She would smile at me, pat my head, and soon her visits were all I lived for. She got to bringing me a treat once in a while, and I longed to think she was coming to that dirty place just to see me, but I knew she wasn’t. She was coming to see the older boys, and I think now some of the men. I was about ten years old, and doing a man’s work, when I found this out. I tried to beat the kid to death that told me and got a whipping from the old man that put me on my stomach for days. Ellen came storming into the shack when she heard I had got a beating for fighting for her, and threatened to tell her grandpa if I was beat again. It was the most wonderful thing that had happened to me. Ellen stood there protecting me, standing up to the old man, then washing and dressing my sore back. I loved her from that moment on.

“It wasn’t long after that that Ellen stopped coming to the shanties. I didn’t see her again until I was about fourteen. I’d left the shack where I was raised, but strings pulled me back to the only home I’d ever known. The old folks were gone, the kids scattered, and the shack was burned. Ellen’s grandpa was dead, and she was a rich lady and married. When I heard she had come back to sell the property I waited beside the house for two days just to get a glimpse of her. I couldn’t believe it when she walked up to me, remembered my name and talked to me. I thought she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. To me she was an angel, everything my heart desired. She filled my thoughts so completely, I would have died for her had she asked me. Well . . . she sold her property and went away again. I went to drifting. It’s a hard life, drifting, when you’re a kid. I had hell beat out of me so many times that it got to be a regular thing. I finally got big enough and tough enough, so I was able to fight for myself. But just being able to make my way wasn’t enough. It kept eating at me that I had nobody. Nobody, but Ellen.” He lit a smoke and Sadie wondered if he was finished, but he started talking again.

“I got mean. I got mean as hell. Got to where I’d fight at the drop of a hat. People kind of backed off from me, tried not to rile me. I kept to myself; driftin’, always driftin’. Looking for God knows what.

“It was about five years before I saw Ellen again. She was in a carriage and had a young boy with her. I’d just come into Nacogdoches after working on a riverboat, and I went charging down the road after her. The driver was going to use his whip on me, and if he had, I’d of killed him on the spot. Ellen knew me right away and asked me to come to the hotel to see her.” Jesse gave out what was a half-laugh and half-snort of disgust. “I was in heaven. I got myself all slicked up. Had a bath at the barber shop, spent my last dime on new clothes and boots. The room she was in was the fanciest room I’d ever seen, and Ellen was the prettiest woman I’d seen. Just as pretty as I remembered. She had supper sent up for just the two of us and told me her husband was dead. She told me about the Rocking S and offered me a job. That was twelve years ago. I’ve been with her ever since.” He let go Sadie’s hand and rolled another smoke. “I know what folks said about me and Ellen. I didn’t care. Ellen had strong . . . desires that most women wouldn’t understand. She needed me, just as I needed her when I had no one who cared if I lived or died. She wasn’t perfect, but I loved her.” He was quiet and finished the smoke, flipped it out into the night and said with wonderment, “I never had any idea she’d do what she said she did. Guess I was about as blind about Ellen as she was about Travis.”

Sadie sat spellbound while he talked. She understood his feelings. They reflected her own longing, the yearning for something permanent, the wanting to belong. Her compassion made her bold.

“You’ve got me now, Jesse. If you want me.” She could feel his sharp eyes searching her face in the darkness. She waited in agonizing silence for his answer.

His arm came around her and pulled her tightly to him.

“I want you, Sadie.” The words were whispered against her ear. “Oh, God, yes. I want you.”

“I love you, Jesse,” she said, with tears in her voice. “I ain’t much, but I love you so much it hurts me . . . but it’s a hurt I like.”

“Sadie. . . .” He raised his head and looked at her. “Sadie, you’re everything. You and Mary are everything. I’ve saved my wages, and it’ll give us a start.”

He kissed her gently, lovingly, yet possessively. His arms held her protectively and she snuggled against his chest. She had come a long, lonely way through the years, as Jesse had done, but now she had found home, safety, someone to love and someone to love her.

Summer awoke. Night had come. She came awake fully aware of the events of the day. The house was silent and dark except for the low burning lamp on the mantel. Ellen was dead, she knew it at once. No sorrow touched her heart for Ellen, and no regret for Travis. He had done that terrible thing to Slater . . . Slater! Oh, God! How can I ever think of him as . . . brother?

Her face was wet with sweat where it had rested on her arm. She washed it matter-of-factly and tidied her hair from habit. Her stomach protested the fact she had not eaten all day, and propelled by yet another habit, she went to the warming oven for cornbread and to the crock for milk. The food went down automatically. She looked behind the curtain. Only Mary was there. Taking the lamp, she climbed the ladder until she could see into the loft room. The small shape of her brother was on the bunk.

At that moment, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She was leaving her little brother! He was her child in every sense of the word except by birth. He was her reason for coming here. Since the day he was born she had cared for him, taught him, never stinting on love and devotion. Here, in this place, he had grown wings, learned to depend on her less, expanded his knowledge by leaps and bounds. This was the place he should be. Slater would see to his education. Someday, he would be in a great university, teaching others. At that time, she would know she had done the right thing by leaving him behind.

At the door of her room she paused, holding the lamp out to the side so she could see. Ellen’s body lay on her bed, the outline clearly visible beneath the sheet. Ellen had been going to take her with her in the morning. Now she would go alone.

Calm and dry-eyed, she was returning the lamp to the mantel when the door opened. She turned quickly, guiltily, suddenly fearful of whom she must face. Sadie came in, followed by Jesse. Jack followed close behind. Summer avoided his eyes and looked at Sadie.

“Is your head better? You was sleepin’ so sound I was a hopin’ that when you woke up your head wouldn’t a be a killin’ you like it was.”

Summer looked from the men to Sadie and understood her line of talk. She was helping her to produce an excuse for her absence.

“It’s not much better, Sadie, but the sleep helped.” It astonished her that she could speak so calmly. She looked directly at Jack. “Did Slater sleep most of the day? Teresa said he would.”

“Off and on, I guess. Teresa said he et stew like his stomach was stuck to his backbone. He was frettin’ if’n things was all right over here. Ain’t tol’ him the whole of what’s happened yet. Reckoned tomorry would be soon e’nuff.”

“He should be much stronger tomorrow.”

Jack stood first on one foot and then the other.

“You told him about the soldiers?” Sadie broke in speaking fast. “You told him they corralled the whole wild bunch? That ort to make him feel just jim-dandy, considerin’ t’was them that did that to him.”

“Yup, I told him and he swore he was goin’ to kill Travis. I had to tell him it was already done. He swore again. Now all he talks about is Miss Summer and why she ain’t over there.”

“Well, she’s dead tired, is what she is. She didn’t get no sleep a’tall last night, with all that’s been goin’ on. Well, for land’s sakes, she ain’t strong as no horse. I . . .” Jesse placed a hand on Sadie’s shoulder and stopped her sputtering words.

Summer smiled wanly, tiredly. “I feel better now, Sadie.” She suppressed the shiver of dread as she met Jack’s eyes. “It’s too late to go over tonight, Jack. Tell Slater we’re all right and to stop fretting. Can’t Teresa give him Bermaga’s powder?”

“Wal, yes, but he be buckin’ and not wantin’ to take it.”

Summer managed a small laugh and watching her, Sadie thought her heart would break.

“Tell him I said to take the powder and quit being so mule-headed.”

“I’d better be gettin’ back. I’ll tell him what ya said. Kind of want to hit the bunk myself. Anythin’ I can do for you, Jesse?”

“No, but thanks, Jack. We’ll be leaving at first light. I’ll bring the wagon back first chance I get.”

“Ain’t no hurry. Ain’t no hurry a’tall. Need any help with . . . Mrs. McLean?”

“If it’s all right with Summer, I’ll leave her be till morning.”

“Of course it’s all right, Jesse. And Sadie and I will do the box real nice.”

After Jack left, the tension eased somewhat. Summer stood holding the back of the chair. The new intimacy between Sadie and Jesse had not gone unnoticed. Summer was aware that Jack noticed it, too. Jack had been on the verge of falling in love with Sadie. She hoped he wasn’t hurt by this sudden turn of events.

Sadie was nervous. She moved too fast, talked too fast. She was as easy to read as a book. She sped around the kitchen, first filling the stove and putting on the coffee pot. Summer stood by the chair and waited. Jesse sat at the table. Finally, it came out.

“I had to tell Jesse.”

“Sadie! You promised. . . .”

“I had to, Summer. There ain’t no way you can leave here in the morning without Jesse’s help. You know you can’t go a ridin’ off by yourself.” Sadie’s pixie face was twisted with a plea for understanding.

Summer put her arms around her and Sadie hugged her in grateful relief.

“You’re right, as usual, Sadie.” She sat down at the table and looked into the steely-gray eyes of the man who had always frightened her a little. He looked like the same man, but somehow his eyes were kinder. She had expected to see censure, rebuke, disgust or pity. None of those things were there. “I’ll be grateful for your help,” she said simply.