Dorothy Garlock (13 page)

On a bright summer day, Ben held the cold hands of his beloved and kissed her serene lips for the last time. Holding tightly the hand of the small boy, he followed her plank coffin to a grassy knoll above the ranch house. The men lowered the box, then stood with hats in hand while Ben read from Scripture. Somberly and silently they filled the grave with warm earth and walked away to leave Ben and the boy alone.

The breeze that came down from the mountains stirred the boy’s blond curls and rippled the wild flowers he clutched in his hand. Ben took the flowers from him and scattered them on the grave. He and the boy got down on their knees. Ben put his arms about the bewildered child, and they wept together.

Ben’s depression was deep. No one could know what the lovely, frail woman had meant to him. For days he could not eat, and at night he walked the floor. After a while he began to realize that his time with Anna had been beautiful and fulfilling but now it was time to get on with what needed to be done. Anna had left him with her most precious possession, her son, and through him Anna would live. With quiet determination he went about the task of raising Burr. He committed himself wholly to the boy’s welfare and education, all the while planning revenge for what Anna had suffered. Someday he and Burr would wrest from Mack Macklin this valley—the only thing Macklin had ever loved.

S
even

J
ohanna tucked her fresh blouse into her skirt and secured the belt around her minute waist. She brushed her hair and carefully recoiled it, pulling loose a few tendrils of curls about her face. Scrutinizing herself in the mirror, she decided she looked coolly conventional, yet informal enough to suit her position in the house. With nerves firmly under control she marched down to the kitchen, ready to do battle with Burr when he came in for the evening meal.

The kitchen was spotless. The trestle table had been scrubbed with a stiff brush, dried, and oiled. The seasoned old wood gleamed after being polished with a soft cloth. Lighting one of the freshly washed lamps, Johanna placed it in the middle of the table, then set plates and cutlery for five, thinking it better to set a place for Mr. Macklin although Ben didn’t believe he would come to the table.

There was an abundance of food on the ranch. Codger and a young Mexican lad brought up from the cookhouse flour, cornmeal, sugar, rice, dried beans, dried fruits, and numerous seasonings. He had shown her the smokehouse, which was filled with slabs of bacon, sides of beef, venison, and even a portion of bear meat that he swore was good eating if cooked long enough. There was a chickenhouse, so fresh eggs were available as well. Codger had proudly shown her a cave in the rocks near the spring behind the house where milk and vegetables were stored.

Johanna was astonished at how well organized the ranch was outside the house. It seemed to her that the ranch house was like a desolate island in a sea of plenty.

Evening came early. When the sun passed over the crest of the mountain, its long shadows engulfed the valley, cooling it. The cookstove made the kitchen pleasantly warm, and the shining chimneys on the lamps gave the room a rosy glow.

Ben sat in the chair by the hearth and watched Johanna. She moved from stove to workbench, her color intensified by the heat from the stove.

“We’ll have to set a time for supper, Ben. I work better if I have a schedule.” Not wanting to admit to herself that she dreaded hearing the thud of Burr’s boots on the stone floor, she chattered on. “Tomorrow I think I’ll start cleaning the room across the hall.” She looked up. Burr and Bucko had come quietly into the room. She glanced at them and quickly took in everything about them.

It appeared that Bucko had come unwillingly, judging by his pouting expression. However, he was dressed in a clean shirt and his hair had been combed. His small hand was engulfed in Burr’s large one. The reason she hadn’t heard Burr come in was that he was wearing Indian moccasins. He had also put on a clean shirt, minus his ever-present vest, and had attempted to control his mop of curly hair, but without much success. His expression was not friendly but not surly either. Johanna decided that his look could only be described as determined.

“Supper is almost ready, Mr. Macklin,” she said formally. “And I would like to know if this is a convenient time for the meal. If it is, I’ll have your meal ready at this time every evening.” He didn’t answer her immediately, but instead let his eyes travel the room, taking in every change she had made. When he’d finished, he met her cool gaze.

“If it isn’t, I’ll let you know.” His voice was barely cordial.

“Thank you,” she said in a voice equal to his, then glanced down at Bucko. “I hear you met my sister today, Bucko. Did you know she’s quite good at making a slingshot?” She spoke to him in Spanish.

“Speak English,” Burr said harshly. “Bucko must learn English.”

“Yes, of course he should.” She smiled, refusing to let his manner shake her confidence. She took a pan from the oven. “Come, Ben, the biscuits are done. You and Bucko sit down, Mr. Macklin.” She was delighted to see a flush of anger come into Burr’s face at being invited to sit at his own table. After she placed the food on the table, Johanna whipped off her apron and went to call old Mack.

When she didn’t find him on the porch, she knocked on the door of his room, but there was no answer.

“Supper is ready, Mr. Macklin,” she called out. There was no reply, so she went back to the kitchen.

Burr was seated at the head of the table, with Bucko on one side and Ben on the other. Johanna couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if old Mack came to the table. She sat down beside Bucko. Ben was waiting for her, but Burr had placed food on Bucko’s plate and his own and had started to eat. It was difficult for Johanna to keep from smiling at the childish act of defiance. It was plain that her cool reserve had gotten under the skin of the confident Burr Macklin. She smiled at Ben; his eyes twinkled back at her. There wasn’t much that he missed.

After a failed attempt to start a conversation, Ben sat quietly, eating and observing. Johanna could tell that he was enjoying the meal. He had faultless manners, and she was surprised to discover that Burr’s manners were also good. Probably the result of Ben’s teaching, she thought. Judging from the quantity of food that disappeared, Burr too enjoyed the meal.

At the end of the meal Johanna refilled coffee cups and brought milk for Bucko before she set a large platter of bear claws on the table. Bucko looked disbelievingly at the warm, sugar-coated cakes before his eyes found hers. She winked at him, and she was almost sure she saw a flicker of friendliness before he lowered his eyes. She rounded the table to take her seat and her gaze collided with Burr’s. His sun-bleached brows were drawn together, and the look on his face was one of puzzlement.

“Later I’m going down to Mr. Redford’s, Bucko. Will you walk with me and show me the way?”

The hand reaching for a bear claw halted when he heard her words. He looked at Burr, as if hoping he would answer for him. Burr reached over and placed a cake on Bucko’s plate.

“If you want to go, Bucko, say so. If you don’t want to go it will be all right.”

Johanna couldn’t believe the gentle, patient voice had come from the man who had only a few hours ago been so boorish. She looked at him and saw a softening in his face that completely changed his countenance. Evidently Ben and Bucko saw nothing unusual in his manner of speaking, because Ben continued eating his bear claw and Bucko turned big, serious eyes in her direction.

“Yes,” he said in a voice so low she barely heard the word.

“I’m glad,” Johanna said with mock relief. “I’ll need someone to carry my guitar.”

The little face lit up almost instantly. Johanna’s heart lurched. He’s lonely, she thought, and realized that there was one Macklin, at least, who was human and reachable.

The meal was more pleasant than Johanna anticipated, yet she was glad when it was over. It irritated her that Burr’s presence made her nervous. Each time he looked at her the bold, masculine magnetism he emitted aroused a sense of excitement in her. She blamed it on the antagonism between them. She would never in a million years be comfortable with this man. It was unthinkable to imagine being married to him.

“Burr, come talk to me while Bucko stuffs himself with cakes.” Ben excused himself and got stiffly to his feet.

When Burr stood he seemed to fill the room, and in reaction Johanna sucked in her breath until he moved away. He sat by the hearth, opposite Ben, and brought out the makings for a cigarette. Bucko remained at the table, eating slowly and steadily.

While preparing a tray for Mr. Macklin, Johanna listened to the conversation at the hearth.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about the men who followed the train in?”

“For the time being, nothing. Luis is keeping an eye on them and if they move from the spot where they’re camped, or if it looks like they plan to stay, then I’ll act. Meanwhile, we have plenty to do getting the stragglers down out of the hills and breaking the string of horses Luis brought in, and there’s the windmill to put up.”

“Did Luis find anything in town to add to his string?”

“Yes, he did.” When Burr answered, Johanna held her breath, for the change on his face was miraculous. The stern lines relaxed when his lips spread in a smile that showed his white teeth. He was undeniably handsome and no doubt well aware of it, she told herself. She attributed her quickening pulse to the fact that she was surprised he could even smile.

“He found a fine-boned little mare he wants to put to the stallion he got from the Apache. He thinks he’ll get a colt with the speed of lightning.”

Could that chuckle in his voice be affection for his brother? Johanna asked herself.

“I think he’ll get just what he thinks he’ll get,” Ben said. “Luis knows horses.”

“I wish I knew half as much,” Burr admitted.

“Did you find out any more about the two Mexicans he killed?”

“No. He didn’t say much about it, except that they gave themselves away and they needed killing. You know how Luis feels about such as that. He gave them a chance at him, then killed them as though they were a couple of rattlesnakes. He didn’t see any need to wait for the men to get out a rope and hang them.”

“He’s practiced for years with those guns, Burr. I thought the day would come when he would use that speed here on the ranch.” Ben knocked the bowl of his pipe sharply against the stone hearth.

“It’ll not come to that now, Ben. Luis will have his horse ranch and Bucko will have his chance too. I’ll see to it. Nothing and nobody is going to prevent it.”

Johanna thought he said the last for her benefit, and a brief flash of anger swept over her. She wanted to blurt out that he had nothing to fear from her, but she kept her head turned so he couldn’t see the flush that flooded her face.

The tray was ready. She had put more food on the plate than she thought the old man could eat, but she wanted it to be ample. While covering the tray with a clean cloth, she felt a sudden rush of uncertainty and looked helplessly at Ben. She wondered if she would be able to bear another encounter with the frightful old man.

Ben reached for his tobacco can to refill his pipe and said, “All I can tell you, lass, is take the bull by the horns. Rap on the door. Mack won’t answer, but open it and go in. You’ll find him propped up in bed. Just place the food on the table and leave. He may swear at you, but he’ll not strike you. At least I don’t think he will.”

“Of course he won’t!” she scoffed. She picked up the tray. Not for the world would she let that overbearing dolt by the hearth know that Mack could cause her even a moment of concern. She walked calmly through the door, but paused in the hall to prepare herself for the old man’s onslaught. He didn’t answer her knock, as Ben had predicted. She hesitated only a second, then opened the door. The room was in semidarkness, but she could see the bed at the end of it. The offensive smells of sweat, unwashed body, and a spittoon that badly needed to be emptied assailed her. She heard the sound of heavy breathing but wasn’t sure whether the old man was asleep.

“Mr. Macklin,” she called softly.

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. As she walked toward him her foot struck an object on the floor, and she just barely managed to keep her balance and the tray upright. Moving aside a lamp, she placed the tray on the table near the bed.

“Shall I light a lamp for you, Mr. Macklin?”

There was no answer. She felt along the table and her fingers found a box of sulfur matches. She lit one, lifted the chimney from the lamp, and applied the flame. The old man was propped up in bed watching her. His sunken blue eyes were cold, and his mouth was open to gulp air.

“I’ve brought your supper.”

“I ain’t blind,” he growled.

Johanna smiled. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

The lips snapped shut and the look on his face was one of distaste. Johanna was reminded of a puma ready to spring on its prey. Perhaps it was the growl, or it might have been the glow in his eyes that followed her every move. Resisting the temptation to run from the room, she walked slowly to the door, where the sound of his voice halted her.

“About what I asked you today,” he said caustically. “Are you still of the same mind?”

Johanna thought she should get this settled once and for all.

“Mr. Macklin, I never even considered your proposal. What you suggested is absolutely out of the question.”

With surprising agility the old man swung up to sit on the side of the bed.

“You goddamn slut!” he bellowed. “You goddamn whorin’ slut! What more are you wantin’? Are you wantin’ me to go down on my knees and beg? That goddamn lawyer! I been waitin’ six months for you to get here. Waitin’ six months for a bitch to stand there and tell me my valley ain’t good enough for her.” His face was almost purple with rage. Johanna had never seen a person so angry that he frothed at the mouth like a mad dog.

“You’ll wed the bastard, or I’ll sell the whole goddamn valley out from under him,” he roared. “I’ll not have a goddamn bastard have my valley, not a goddamn bastard that robbed me of my foot. He’ll wed you and bed you, I say! Once he gets you on your back he’ll know what to do. I seen to that!”