Amethyst (9 page)

“I…I don’t want to put you out.”

“Look, out here someone comes in hungry, we feed them. Thirsty, we got good water. So I got an extra bowl and spoon, and you can just help yourself.” He limped over to the counter and brought out the mentioned bowl and spoon. “My wife sent over a loaf of bread, if that sounds good to you too?” He cocked his head, waiting for her to swallow her pride and answer.

“Can I pay you?”

“For what? Being neighborly. Ain’t no charge for that, far as I know. Besides, we can sit and visit a mite while we eat. Gets some lonesome in here after the train’s gone by, ’specially with weather like this.”

Amethyst moved her bags over to the bench seat and crossed to take the two bowls. “I’ll fill these while you slice the bread, and I do thank you. If everyone in Medora is as kind as you are, this town must have an excellent reputation.” She filled the bowls with beef chunks and vegetable soup and set them on the bench seats, then sat down. Waiting for him to bring the bread so they could have grace left her salivating.

He handed her a thick slice of bread, straddled the bench, and bowed his head. “For this thy bounty we give thee our most hearty thanks. Amen.” He nodded to the repast. “Dig in.”

Amethyst did just that, holding the bowl close to her chin so that she wouldn’t drip down the front of her garments. While she’d unbuttoned her coat, ten feet from the stove the room was chilly, with drafts along the floor enough to make her grateful for her woolen stockings and quilted petticoat. “My, you must thank your wife. This is delicious.”

“Can’t go wrong with good beef, beans, a few carrots, and whatever else she has to hand. At home she makes the best dumplings, but I go for the plain fare here. Now, let me think on the boy you are looking for.” He sopped the last of his soup with the crust of his bread and squinted his eyes while finishing chewing. “Last summer a man and a boy came here looking for work and a place to live. Adams over at the general store sent them on out with Ward Robertson. He’s gone now, but—”

“You mean Mr. Chandler has left and gone on to somewhere else?”

“No. Robertson was killed by a freak ricocheting bullet in a shootout last summer. Terrible thing. He was a good man. Left a wife and five girls. Terrible doings.”

Amethyst waited. “So Mr. Chandler is still around here?”

“Far as I know he’s still helping out at the Robertsons’. Unless he rode out instead of taking the train. The boy comes to town with the other children to school. He turned into a right good little cowhand, so I heard. Opal Torvald made sure of that. She was teaching the father too, but that boy really took to it.”

“So is he here in town at the schoolhouse?”

“Don’t rightly know. We had a bad snow last few days and looks to be coming back. Times like this the ranch kids stay to home.”

Amethyst fought to keep herself in her seat and not scream at the man to hurry up and tell her how to get out there. “How far is it to the Robertsons’?”

“Oh, somewhere ’bout a mile or two, but you’ll need a horse and sleigh. You’d be better going out to Miz Hegland’s boardinghouse if you need a place to stay. Perhaps if Carl ain’t too busy and the weather holds, he could take you on out to the ranch.”

“I see.” Oh, why couldn’t this be easy? “When is the next train east?”

“Sometime tomorrow. All depends on the weather. Had one train sit here in the station till they could clear the tracks. Been a bad year for blizzards already, and I fear we got more to come. All the signs point to a bad one.” He picked up their bowls. “You want some more soup?”

“No, thank you. But please be sure to tell your wife thank you. If you could give me directions to the boardinghouse, I will be on my way.”

“ ’Tain’t hard to find. You head on south over the railroad tracks. The snow’s froze hard enough to walk on, and you’ll see their house off to your left. Snugged right up against the hill. Two story with a porch across the front. All the others round there are only one level. But you get confused, you could stop at any house and ask for directions.”

Just then the door blew open, and a man stepped in, putting his shoulder against the door to slam it shut. “Colder’n a witch’s…” He paused when he saw a woman sitting on the bench. “Sorry, ma’am. I thought Owens was here by his lonesome.”

“Howdy, Jake. What can I do for you?”

“Jest hoped you had a coffeepot on.” He patted his chest. “Got a little somethin’ here to put in it.” Jake wore a coat of pelts, dusted with white, and a broad-brimmed black felt hat. For some reason the grin he sent her made Amethyst want to take a few steps back. As the man rubbed his hands together in the heat of the stove, she caught a whiff of something so rank that her eyebrows shot up. She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve, ostensibly to wipe her nose, but in reality to cover the odor.

“Sorry, but I’m plumb out of coffee. Perhaps Adams has a pot on.”

“Better head on home, then. Thanks for the warm-up.” The man named Jake turned and headed back out the door.

If he was typical of the people living in Medora…Amethyst thought longingly of home, but the stationmaster had been most cordial, and she hoped Mrs. Hegland would be too.
If I can find the place
.

“If it’d been anyone else, I’d have asked him to take you out there, but I trust Jake Maunders about as far as I can throw a buffalo.” He stared at her long enough for her feet to want to shift and her hands to wring. “I hate to send you out in this weather.”

“But the sun tried to break through.”

“That’s ’cause you’re looking south, and the bad weather comes from the north, right down off the Arctic, and blasts on through here. There’s nothing to stop it.” He shook his head. “And I know Miz McGeeney don’t have no room, nor are there any beds over at the dormitory, but then, they don’t take women anyway.”

He appeared to be muttering to himself, so Amethyst picked up her bags and started for the door. “Thank you for the soup. I’ll be fine.”

He followed her to the door. Once outside he pointed to the south. “See that house over there, the big one? That’s the boardinghouse.”

“All right. That doesn’t look too far.”
Not if I’d not been sick
. Should she ask him to find her a conveyance? But surely he’d have suggested one if one were available. If only she didn’t have the carpetbags to carry too. “Thank you again.”

She started off bravely but hadn’t gotten across the train tracks before she had to stop to rest. She looked over her shoulder to see black clouds hovering beyond the top of the cliff behind the town. Surely that hill protected the town of Medora. Off to her left she saw a three-story building with a tall brick smokestack. Perhaps that was the slaughtering enterprise Mrs. Grant had spoken of. Amethyst took the scarf from around her neck and tied it over hat and head, tucking the ends into the front of her coat. She raised the collar to protect her neck and started out again. The north wind at her back pushed her enough to make the walk somewhat easier, but the cold seared the inside of her nose and down into her chest. She stopped again and adjusted her scarf to cover her face up to her eyes.

Her stops grew closer together, and each one took longer for her to get moving again. She passed several small houses, one with smoke coming from the chimney, one looking silent as death. A dog barked, but even the animal was wise enough not to venture out.

Glancing back, she thought the clouds looked closer and the town not far enough away. She plowed onward, the crust of ice on the snow enough to hold her weight. The outline of the house blurred, and she stopped to break the ice from her scarf where her breath had frozen. Too exhausted to utter the words, her mind kept up the refrain,
Help me, oh, Lord God. Be my strength and my shield
. The snow smacked her on the head as she sank down.

“Get up!” She heard the voice and, using every remaining bit of strength, stumbled to her feet. Four feet, ten feet, she staggered on, her bags forgotten where she’d dropped them.

A dog barked, then set up a frantic howl.

Was that voices she heard or the wind playing tricks with her mind? She slipped on the ice and crashed to the ground again.
Lord, my help, my salvation. I cannot rise again
.

A dog whined, and a warm tongue licked her face. He wriggled close to her and howled again. The mournful sound sent fear up her spine. Was she to die here? No, just rest a moment. Just a moment. That’s all she needed.

The heat of the dog’s body penetrated her coat, and she wrapped both arms around the animal, clinging to the heat, the whimpering creature.

“Get up!” That voice again.

But I cannot. I cannot breathe. I cannot
.

The dog tugged on her coat, taking his warmth away. She pushed herself to her knees. Were it not for her skirts strangling her, she would crawl. The dog returned and stood beside her. She braced her hand on his back and inch by inch got one foot underneath her and then the other. Now bracing both hands on his back, she heaved herself upright and staggered forward. The dog whined just ahead of her, encouraging her.

When he barked again, this time with joy, Amethyst ceased her slow forward motion.

“Brownie!” The voice sounded fairly close.

Amethyst brushed the ice away from her face again so she could see. Snow swirled around her, but out of it loomed a real person. “Help.” Did she only think the word, or did she really say it?

“Oh, Brownie, good dog. Here, let me help you.”

Amethyst collapsed into the woman’s arms.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, General, I’ve been thinking of it for some time. This just makes it certain now.” Major Jeremiah McHenry motioned to the black patch covering his missing left eye. Better a missing eye than missing in action. That along with what seemed to be becoming a permanent limp from a bullet to the thigh would cut short his military career. He didn’t mention his stumbling over everything or that he couldn’t even get his foot in the stirrup right.

“So what do you plan to do?”

“You mean with all the wealth I’ll be receiving in my pension?” Actually, along with what he’d saved through the years, he had a pretty good nest egg. Jeremiah smiled on the inside, but smiles had long before taken leave of absence from his face. Fighting the Apache in the arid Arizona Territory stole the hearts of many and the minds of some. While they’d finally shipped Geronimo off to Florida, Jeremiah had been assigned to remain with the troops at Fort Bowie.

“I wish it were more. You’ve earned it.” The general leaned back in his leather chair. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you heading home?”

“No, I’m heading back to the badlands of Dakotah Territory. Those buttes and cliffs—never could get them out of my mind. There’s no one that important left at home in Kentucky, so I plan to find me a stream, build a log house nearby, run a few head of cattle, and take up with the friends I made there.”
Find me a woman like Ruby and perhaps even have me a family of my own
. Some dreams one kept to himself.

“You taking Kentucky?”

McHenry nodded. “He’s lame in the shoulder and me in the thigh. We’re a couple old war horses put out to pasture.”

“I could transfer you to Fort Beaufort.”

“Why are you so insistent on hanging on to me?”

“Good men like you are getting harder to find.” The general pushed a decanter across his desk. “Pour yourself another.” He steepled his fingers, wrists against his chest. “I will be reassigned soon, and I want you on my staff. You could enjoy the winter here, which is really Arizona’s best season, recuperate from your wounds with light duty, and I will give you the promotion you so richly deserve when I am reassigned. I’m hoping for Washington.”

“If that is your dream, sir, I hope you are posted there. My dream lies in the wild and beautiful badlands, where the eagles cry, the fish leap from the river, and the people care for one another.” He thought to some of the ruffians he’d met there and added, “Most of them anyway.”

“But you’re a soldier.”

“According to those papers I signed, I
was
a soldier.”