This Loving Land (7 page)

Mary ran ahead, grabbed the straw-filled sack suspended by the rope and wrapped her small legs about it. Sadie gave her a gentle push and she laughed merrily. The sound of her child’s laughter was so dear to her that Sadie forgot everything except this small pleasure she was sharing with her daughter.

“High, high, Mama!”

“Hold tight” Sadie cautioned. “Hold tight, and we’ll go higher.”

After a while, Mary became weary of holding on, and her small feet dragged the ground until the swing stopped. She was content for a time just to push the swing, then turned her small face up to her mother.

“Mama swing!”

“All right.” Her laughter equalling that of her daughter’s, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around the sack. “Give me a push, Mary.”

The small hands on her back barely moved her.

“Come on, Mary. Give me a push.”

Large, hard hands touched her back, and she was given a hefty shove. She was so frightened that her hands froze onto the rope and she flung herself around to see Mary standing beside the tall foreman, clapping her hands and squealing with glee. The man’s hat was pulled low over his eyes, and she could see only his mouth. It was slightly tilted.

“Mary,” she gasped, and darted to take the child’s hand. Mary jerked away from her and ran to the swing.

“Me swing!”

Sadie’s heart was galloping wildly in her breast. She went to snatch Mary from the swing, but the man was there ahead of her and gave the child a gentle push.

“We was just goin’.”

“No, you wasn’t.”

She wasn’t sure she heard correctly and looked wildly about like a frightened child.

“I’m not the one you have to look out for. You know that.” He spoke softly, gently, and kept a steady hand on the child’s back as he swung her back and forth.

“Yes,” she whispered, but the sound reached him.

“How come you was workin’ in the dance hall?” Sadie was taken aback by his words and didn’t know how to answer, so she remained silent. “Where’s your man?” His direct questions sparked resentment.

“He got hisself killed, and I was working in the dance hall ’cause I couldn’t get no other work.” She watched him, frowning, but her resentment died fast when his eyes met hers. To soften her blunt words, she added, “Thank you for what you done that night. I didn’t have no idea he’d do what he did. He’d been so nice.”

“He can be when he wants to. Don’t let him catch you by yourself.”

There was silence while they both watched Mary on the swing. Again, Sadie was taken aback by his words, and she searched frantically for something to say.

“How long you been working for Mrs. McLean?”

“Twelve ’years.”

She wished he would say something more, but he stood silently, watching her, swinging Mary.

“Do you come over this way often?” She wished she hadn’t asked the question.

“I will now.”

Sadie was so nervous and strung up she could hardly think. What did he mean? For a second, she felt the prick of a thrill, but it faded quickly in the face of logic. He would be bringing Mrs. McLean to visit Summer. She allowed herself the luxury of staring at him.

His sun-bronzed face was framed by neatly trimmed dark brown sideburns, accentuating high cheekbones and a thin, well-formed nose above a generous but unsmiling mouth. It was the sternest, most forbidding face she had ever seen. He turned to look down at her, and suddenly his gray eyes gave her the feeling he could see straight through her.

“This is a good place for you. Will you stay here?”

“I want to.” The words came easier. “I want to help enough to pay for our keep.”

“This is a good place for you,” he said again.

Sadie watched him, noting the way Mary trusted him and how gently he pushed her on the swing. She looked into his face and wondered what was behind it. What was he thinking? And would he really protect her from his employer’s son? She wondered how he had come among the McLeans. What had his home been like? What kind of woman could take him from Mrs. McLean? A queer little shock went through her when she realized her thoughts. How could it possibly matter to her what kind of man he was? Come morning, she would probably never see him again. Nevertheless, the thought disturbed her, and she looked at him keenly. There was no smell of evil about him like there was about Travis McLean, but there was no real softness, either, except what he showed with Mary. Yes, to be with such a man would be . . . would be. . . .

“Have you made up your mind about me?” He stopped the swing and lifted Mary down.

“What do you mean?”

“You were trying to decide what kind of man I am, and if I’m to be trusted.”

Mary reached up and took his hand and tugged. He looked down at the impish little face and squatted down on his heels. He patted his shirt pocket. Timidly, at first, Mary searched until she discovered the slender cylinder of candy. Her sparkling eyes found his. Jesse got to his feet and patted her head.

“Somethin’ we both got a fondness for, eh, little girl?”

He took the makings for a cigarette from his pocket and, scarcely looking at what he was doing, constructed the smoke. He flicked the head of the match with his nail and held up the flame. He watched Mary, sticky spit from the candy running down her chin, then turned his gaze on the mother. She was a woman all right—scarcely more than a girl in years—but a spunky woman. Pretty, too. He took the cigarette from his lips. She was fidgeting and burning because he was looking at her. She had looked at him, now it was his turn. She must have really been brought low to take the job in the dance hall. He knew when he pulled Travis off her that she wasn’t right for that sort of place.

It was growing late. Sadie took Mary’s hand. The man didn’t turn or speak as she walked behind him, but her footsteps hesitated a little, as if she wanted to speak. He turned and she stopped.

“Mister?”

“Yes’m?”

“Thank you. And thank you for givin’ Mary the treat.” Her voice trembled, in spite of her determination to keep it even.

“Go on back,” he said. Sadie was sure his voice gentled. “Go on back and I’ll watch.”

It was wonderful not to be afraid. She could feel his eyes on her until she let herself into the back door. Quickly, she washed the sticky sweet from the child’s tired face and hands, undressed her, and put her in the bunk. Blowing out the lamp, she undressed and got in beside her. She could hear the murmur of Ellen McLean’s voice coming from Summer’s room, and the voices of John Austin and Pud in the loft. She thought of the coming morning with mixed feelings. Although she longed to see the last of Mrs. McLean and her son, she dreaded to think she’d not be seeing Jesse Thurston again.

It was near midnight when Jack tied his horse to the rail and crossed the stone veranda. He let himself into the house, and guided by the smell of freshly brewed coffee, went directly to the kitchen. Slater looked up and motioned toward the stove. Jack hung his hat on the rack and took a mug from the shelf.

“How’s the leg?”

“Better. Teresa made up a poultice that took off some of the soreness.”

“How’d she get it past Bulldog?”

Slater grinned at that. “He was busy keeping his eagle eye on Ellen.”

They sat in silence for a while before Jack spoke again.

“Ain’t that kid a ring-tailed tooter?”

Slater refilled his cup and thought about the pleasant hour he had spent with John Austin.

“It’s no lie about him being brainy.”

Jack chuckled. “He got ol’ Pud treed. Drawed him a picture of the world and showed him how the sun and the moon went around it. 0l’ Pud jist sit thar with his mouth open. Kid tol’ him he’d show him how to read and write his name. I thought ol’ Pud would bust a gut when the kid said thar warn’t no excuse for him to be ignorant now that he was here. Kid’s smart. Ya gotta give him that. But the fool kid don’t know nothin’ else. Walked right up close to a rattler . . . wanted to look at it. I tol’ Pud not to take his eyes off him, leastways till we get some sense in him.”

“His sister said he lacked horse-sense, but she brought it about herself by protecting him too much, doing too much for him. It’s made him selfish and forgetful of his manners. He needs a man’s hand.”

The older man looked down at the table, twisted his cup round and round in his large calloused hands.

“Travis has come a courtin’, Slater. He’s behavin’ real good. If’n him and his ma get their way, we ain’t gonna have nothin’ to say ‘bout the girl or the kid.”

Although Slater was of the same opinion, the spoken words angered him.

“Who the hell says they’re going to get their way? That girl is no fool. I’m counting on her seeing right through Ellen and that murdering son-of-a-bitch.” Resting his elbows on the table and rubbing a fist against his forehead, he heaved a laborious sigh and continued, “Goddammit, Jack. I ought to kill the bastard and be done with it.”

“There’s times when I agree with ya, and then there’s times when I don’t. I ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong in thinkin’ he was in on the killin’ of yore pa, but if ya just gun him down, not knowin’ for sure, it could be a hard thing to live with. ’Sides, you might have Jesse to worry with.”

“How about Jesse, Jack? He still lickin’ Ellen’s boots?”

“I’ll tell you somethin’. I’d bet my bottom dollar Jesse is onto Travis. He’ll do all he can to keep it from Ellen, but he’s onto him. He dogged him all day, and once, when he was talkin’ to Armando, you know that hand we hired a while back? Well, he kind of sidled up to them, easy-like, and Travis moved off. I ain’t a likin’ that coot a cozyin’ up to Travis like he done.”

“Maybe you ought to tell him to skeedaddle.”

“Thought it might not hurt to keep him and see what he’s up to.”

“He’s spying for Travis.”

“Maybe.”

Slater fingered the scar on his face as he sometimes did when he had something on his mind. Irritably, he jammed a cheroot in his mouth and, striking a match on the sole of his boot, puffed it until it glowed. A wraith of smoke curled into the air.

“Jesse see any Indian sign?”

“None. Said the bunch what hit us was likely an offshoot of Mountain Apaches in the hills south and west. Jesse’s got good Indian sense, fought ’em a heap from the way he talks. Course the booger don’t give away nothin’ ’bout hisself.”

“Jesse knows what he’s about.”

“Except for one thing.”

A scowl came to Slater’s face. “Every man has a weakness. Jesse’s is Ellen McLean.”

Just after daybreak, Jesse brought the buggy to the front of the house.

“Must we go so soon?” Ellen, in her gray traveling suit, placed a hand on his arm.

He patted her hand and spoke to her as if she were a child. “You know we must. Say your goodbyes, so we can get goin’.”

“I didn’t see enough of Summer,” she pouted.

“We’ll come again,” he promised.

Watching from the doorway, Sadie chastised herself for even daring to dream a man like that would be interested in her when he had that beautiful, dainty creature, even though she was years older than him. She folded her hands across the clean apron she had put on in hopes she would see him again, and scolded herself for the extra time she had spent on arranging her hair. He had not even looked her way.

Summer was not sorry the visit had come to an end. She liked Ellen, and her opinion of Travis had undergone a drastic change since the afternoon before, but it was a strain having guests when she had been in her new home for such a short time. Travis was friendly without being overly so, and he seemed to have faultless manners. He came up to her now, and extended his hand.

“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Kuykendall. Thank you for your hospitality.” He grinned boyishly and tilted his head toward his mother. “She’ll be easier to live with for a while.”

Ellen’s sparkling laugh filled the morning stillness. “Don’t mind what he says, Summer. He and Jesse would have you believe I’m a regular nag.” She went to Summer and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I would have loved having a daughter like you, dear. But,” she raised her eyes upward in mock despair, “I was given this unbearable son!”

John Austin came out of the house, rubbing sleep from his eyes, followed by Mary holding up her nightdress so she could walk. The little girl made straight for Jesse, much to Sadie’s distress, and reached up and tugged on his hand.

Jesse’s stern face softened, and his hand came out to fondle the dark red curls before he squatted down on his haunches so she could reach into his breast pocket for the candy stick she knew would be there.

The smile that came to Summer’s face when she saw the amazement on Sadie’s faded when she looked at Ellen. The older woman’s brows were drawn together and she seemed to be repulsed by what she saw. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and moved a step closer to Jesse and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Well . . . Mama!” Travis laughed teasingly. “You’re gonna have to keep a tighter rein on your man. I do believe he’s been out prowlin’.”

“Shut up, Travis.” Jesse barked the words as he lifted Mary up in his arms. Turning to Ellen, he said, “Get in the buggy.” He handed the child over to Sadie and raised his hand to the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”

They had moved only a few paces off when Travis spat: “Now ain’t he being all godawful polite to a whore!”

“Travis, be nice,” Ellen admonished.

Travis doffed his hat in mock salute. He swaggered to his horse and mounted, pulling the reins up tight so the animal danced nervously among the drovers that waited to escort the buggy.

“That red-headed mare’s been rode so much she’s got saddle sore, Jesse. Can’t you do no better than that?” He said something out of the side of his mouth to the drovers, and one of them laughed nervously. “Hey, Jesse . . .” Travis had the attention he wanted and was making the most of it. “That filly of hers won’t be ready for bustin’ for a few years. You stakin’ your claim now?”

Ellen took hold of Jesse’s arm. “Jesse, no! He’s just funnin’.”

Jesse shook her arm loose and in a few quick strides reached Travis, who was crowded in tight among the drovers. Before the younger man could draw a breath, he snatched him from the saddle.

Travis hit the ground and bounced to his feet, his face twisted in anger.

“Goddam you,” he snarled. “I ought to have killed you when you first came smellin’ around my mama!”

“How about now?”

The words were calmly spoken and barely out of his mouth when Travis charged him. Jesse’s fist flashed out and slammed him in the face. Travis’s head snapped back and he stretched out full length on his back. He came up clawing for his gun. The drover, who had dismounted to hold the nervous horse, stepped on his arm and jerked the gun from its holster.

Travis got slowly to his feet, his face a mask of hatred, blood from his busted lips running down his chin.

“You bastard! You son-of-a-whore!” He stood swaying, his hands hanging at his sides, his eyes darting from Jesse to his mother who stood with gloved hands pressed to her mouth.

“Jesse! Please!” Ellen pleaded.

The big man moved deliberately, and with his open hand slapped Travis across the face on one side and with the back of his hand on the other.

“Get on that horse, and count yourself lucky I don’t stomp you to death.”

Travis staggered back against the horse. His hand reached for the pommel and his foot for the stirrup.

“Jesse, how could you?” Ellen twisted her hands anxiously. “How could you hurt him over a . . .”

Jesse’s look silenced her. Gently, he took her elbow and guided her to the buggy. Summer came to stand beside the step.

Smiling bravely, Ellen held out her hand. “I’m truly sorry our visit had to end so crudely. Please forgive them. You’ll find men of the west are quick-tempered and brutal at times. Travis is a tease and Jesse takes everything to heart. In a few days, this will all be forgotten.” She laughed nervously. “You’ll come for a visit?” Summer nodded. “I’ll be back to see you. I’ll be back real soon.”

Jesse climbed into the buggy and took up the reins. Ellen waved her handkerchief. Travis spurred his horse and disappeared in a cloud of dust. The drovers fell in behind the buggy.

Summer and Sadie silently watched Ellen’s departure. They were stunned by the scene they had just witnessed. The insulting remarks hurled by Travis and the cold violence displayed by Jesse were so shocking to Summer that they seemed something from a bad dream.

John Austin broke the silence.

“What did he mean, Summer? Why did he call Mr. Thurston a son-of-a-whore? Why was Mr. Thurston so mad?”

Summer whirled on him. “Don’t you ever say that word again, John Austin Kuykendall! Do you hear me? Don’t you dare say that word again!”

“I just wanted to know.”

“If you want to know something,” his sister retorted angrily, “the woodbox is empty.”

“Why are you so mad?” The boy looked puzzled. “You don’t hardly ever get mad.”

Suddenly, Summer was ashamed. She was also confused. Her emotions had run the gamut in the last twenty-four hours. She had been suspicious of the visitors because of Slater’s attitude, been reassured because of Ellen’s, and was now disillusioned because of Jesse and Travis.

“I’m sorry, John Austin.” She hugged him to her. “I’m sorry.”

The boy grinned up at her. “It’s all right, Summer. I think I know what it means, anyway.”

Summer looked horrified. “Get in there and eat your breakfast.” She followed him into the house and sat down at the oil-cloth–covered table and rested her chin in her hands.

“You won’t be lonely out here, will you, Sadie?” Summer was suddenly depressed.

“Lonely? Me? It’s grand here!” The smile left her face. “Why did you ask? Don’t you like it here?” Her voice held a worried edge.

“Of course I like it. It’s my home.” Summer considered the worried look on Sadie’s face. “And you and Mary are welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

Big tears came to the green eyes and Sadie swallowed with difficulty. “I’ll be a help to you. I promise.”

“You already have been, Sadie. You’re a much better cook than I am.” Summer pushed back from the table and got to her feet.

Sadie was pleased and showed it. She smoothed her apron with nervous hands. “I like doin’ homey things.”

She went to the window. Keeping an eye on John Austin was an ingrown habit with Summer. He was squatting in the dirt with a sharp stick in his hand. He looked so lonely sitting there. She frowned and turned to Sadie.

“Mrs. McLean didn’t take much notice of John Austin,” she said, as if to herself. “Did you think she was pretty?”

Sadie turned her head away when she answered. “Yes, she’s pretty all right.”

“Mary took a shine to Mr. Thurston. “ Summer gave the other girl a teasing scrutiny.

Sadie tossed her head. “Nobody’s likely to get him away from her. “ She emphasized the last word.

Summer smiled at her defiance. Sadie was pretty, with her bronze curls and green eyes, but it was her quick wit and spirit that Summer liked.

“Did you like Mr. Thurston?”

“Heap more’n I liked Travis McLean.” Sadie’s face was turned away, but Summer knew from the sound of her voice her mouth was taut with anger at Travis. This puzzled Summer. Before she could say anything, Sadie was speaking again. “It ain’t for me to be sayin’ nothin’ ’bout the McLeans. That Mrs. McLean can’t see me for dirt.”

“You didn’t get to know her, Sadie. Every time we came near you, you scampered away. She was nice, real nice.”

Mary squirmed out of Sadie’s arms and made for the door.

“Not without your dress, you!” She dived for the child and carried her back to the bunk. “I’ll swear to goodness, I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with you. Ain’t you got no shame?” To Summer, she said, “I’m thinkin’ we should get started on that garden, Summer. It’s the right time of the moon. My mama always planted ground roots, taters, turnips and the like, when the moon was gettin’ bigger.” Sadie didn’t want to think about the McLeans or their tall, flint-eyed foreman. She had had foolish dreams, in the dark of the night, but this was morning and he was gone. The planting would crowd him out of her mind.

Ellen made her displeasure known to Jesse by her silence. She had the feeling she had been firmly put down in front of Summer, and she didn’t like it at all. The humiliation, she reasoned, was hers for letting the scene between her son and Jesse erupt. She had always been a little thrilled by the wild, violent streak in Jesse, especially when it surfaced on her behalf. The cold, ruthless, calculating way he went about disposing of an adversary had, up to now, made her proud of his devotion to her; but when he turned that quick, hard, dangerous strength against Travis, it was another thing.

Silence was Ellen’s only safety while she plotted what tactics she would use to deal with Jesse. Up until that last disgusting scene, Summer had been impressed with Travis. He could charm the skin off a snake when he set his mind to it. His desire to taunt Jesse about the dance-hall girl had just carried him away, that’s all. And Jesse, damn him, had just about ruined everything!

The northwest road meandered along the dry creek bed before turning toward the foothills. The countryside around them lay utterly still. Beneath the June sun the buggy was like an oven, causing Ellen almost as much distress as her impatience with Jesse. She sat tense and silent in her corner, all too aware of her companion’s scowling brow silhouetted in bold profile against the horizon. He had not moved, except to flick the reins, since he took his place beside her and propped one booted foot upon the guard rail.

“I don’t understand you, Jesse. Really, I don’t. That was a terrible thing you did to Travis. You’ve humiliated him so he’ll never want to see Summer again. And all because of that girl.”

He turned to look at her. “You heard what he said. He’s lucky I didn’t break his neck.” The calm voice seemed somehow not to go with the tight lips.

Ellen wondered, at that moment, if she had ever really known this big, silent, relentless man.

“He just got carried away, Jesse. He was funnin’, like he does sometimes.” She looked up at him and allowed a teasing grin to tilt her lips. “You know, Jesse, you’re making me think that maybe you have been slipping off to town, that Travis is right.” Her soft laugh was to accent the absurdity of her words. Jesse continued to look at her and she sobered. “I didn’t mean that, dear. I know you would never take up with a woman like that.”

“A woman like what?” he asked quietly.

“You know what I mean,” she said patiently. “That girl is a saloon woman. She is common and coarse. I can’t imagine why Summer allows her to stay there. I fully intend to have a talk with her about it. I could hardly believe it when Travis told me who she was. Travis said that . . .”

“Travis says too much, Ellen.”

“You just don’t like him, do you, Jesse? You’re jealous of him.” Ellen’s temper was rising. “You never tried to be a friend to him, to show him how to keep the respect of the men. You belittle him, and make all his boyish pranks seem much worse than they are. I sometimes wonder about you, Jesse. How many other beatings have you given him that I don’t know about?”

“Several.” Jesse stared straight over the horse’s back and Ellen gasped at his calm answer.

“He’s just a boy! He’s no match for you in a fight.”

The cool look he gave her caused Ellen to draw another quick breath.

“He’s no boy, Ellen. He’s a twenty-five-year-old man, who acts like a spoiled kid a grabbin’ any and everything he wants. Keep him away from McLean’s Keep, or Slater will kill him. He still thinks he had something to do with Sam’s death, and he wouldn’t think twice about killin’ him if he gets to messin’ around the women.”