Packing Iron (4 page)

Dusk fell. It came suddenly, silently, covering the desert and surrounding hills like a purple shroud. As if on cue, coyotes started their nightly yipping. Moments later bats appeared, making tiny squeaks as they hunted insects in the darkness. There was still no sign of Raven or the stallion. Ingrid knew Raven knew the desert and its creatures as well as any Apache and tried to convince herself that there was nothing to fear. But as the hours mounted up doubt crept in,
especially
if her mind happened to dwell on her husband’s untimely death, and to stop herself from getting frantic she deliberately kept busy all day. There was the now-dry
laundry
to be taken down and carefully ironed; the vegetable patch to be weeded; dinner to be fixed; and before any of that, Gabriel’s wound to attend to.

Climbing in and out of the well had started it bleeding again and Ingrid, afraid of infection, had insisted he let her bathe it and apply a fresh bandage.

He was a terrible patient. He didn’t mention the intense pain she knew he must be feeling, but fussed and grumbled under his breath the whole time she was tending to him.

‘My God,’ she exclaimed finally. ‘Have you never had a woman take care of you before?’

His silence told her he hadn’t.

‘You’ve not been wed then?’

He shook his head.

That pleased her, though she was not sure why. ‘Surely you’ve had girlfriends?’

He looked at her, long and hard. ‘There’s an old Apache saying—’

‘“It’s impolite to ask a direct question”, yes, I’m well aware of it. But we aren’t Apaches, Mr Moonlight. We’re civilized human beings. And since you’re staying with us and I know nothing about you—’

‘One,’ he admitted grudgingly, ‘a long time ago.’

‘What was she like?’

Gabriel reflected a moment, searching for words to describe the woman he’d once loved. Time had dimmed his memory of her but he could still recall how Cally Kincaide looked as she stood in the doorway of her cantina in Santa Rosa, untamed and beautiful, trying not to cry as she watched him ride off only minutes ahead of a pursuing posse. Then it came to him and with a wry smile, he said:

‘Raven – ten years down the trail.’

Ingrid laughed. ‘She must’ve been a handful. What happened to her?’

He would have preferred to drop the subject. But there was something about this woman, a feeling of genuine warmth and caring that overrode his normally quiet,
taciturn
demeanor and he heard himself saying: ‘She was raped an’ … killed.’

Ingrid gave a tiny gasp and bit her knuckle. ‘Dear God, how awful. Did they catch the men who did it?’

‘Yeah,’ he said bitterly. ‘But like with your man, they weaseled their way out of it.’

She shook her blonde head in disgust. ‘Makes you wonder if there’s any justice in the world, doesn’t it?’

‘I pack my justice with me,’ he said grimly. 

For a second she didn’t understand. Then she saw the six-shooter on his hip and said: ‘’Mean, you killed them?’

She saw her answer in his narrowed, flint-blue eyes.

‘Is that how you got shot in the back?’

He nodded.

‘Who did it – Slade or one of the Iversons?’

Gabriel frowned. ‘Sheriff tell you that?’

‘Yes. Only I’m sure his version of what happened is
different
than yours.’

‘Any way you cut it, they’re still dead.’

‘And you’re wanted for murder,’ she reminded.

Outside, a rider approached. Gabriel drew his Colt – so quickly it seemed to leap into his hand. He went to blow out the lamp on the table. But Ingrid, already at the window, stopped him. ‘It’s Raven.’

Together, they hurried outside.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Ingrid said as her daughter slid off the Morgan’s back. ‘Sheriff Forbes and his men have been gone for hours.’

‘I wanted to make sure they weren’t coming back.’ Raven looked at Gabriel, who was studying the stallion. ‘I didn’t run him into the ground, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘I can see that.’ Gabriel stepped closer to get a better look at the Morgan – only to jerk back as the horse tried to bite him. Wincing from the pain shooting up his back, he said sourly: ‘Too bad you didn’t. Might’ve gotten rid of some of his orneriness.’

‘He’s not ornery, mister. Just feisty.’

‘Raven, what have I told you about contradicting your elders?’

‘But it’s true, Momma.’ She brushed her shiny black hair out of her face. ‘In all the time I was with him he never once tried to bite me.’

‘He will,’ Gabriel warned. ‘Sure as night falls, he will.’ He 
slapped the Morgan on the rump with his old campaign hat. Startled, the horse tried to kick him then trotted into the corral.

‘Maybe if you didn’t beat on him all the time,’ Raven said, closing the gate, ‘he wouldn’t be so quick to retaliate. Ever think of that?’

‘Every second of every day,’ Gabriel said sarcastically. Rolling his eyes at Ingrid, he limped off to the barn.

Raven glared after him. ‘If that’s all the thanks I get for saving his neck, next time he can go hide his horse himself!’

‘Hush, child. That’s no way to talk. Besides, I’m sure Mr Moonlight appreciates what you did.’

‘Well, he’s got a damn funny way of showin’ it—’

‘Watch your tongue, young lady, or I’ll wash your—’ She broke off as Raven ran into the cabin.

About to follow her, Ingrid paused in the doorway and gazed at the barn. Lamplight showed through the chinks in the boards. In her mind she saw Gabriel stretched out on the straw, head resting on his saddle, smoking Sven’s tobacco….

The thought of her late husband made her feel lonely, and suddenly she had a strange yearning to join Gabriel. Shocked and at the same time titillated by her feelings for a stranger, a man who in almost every way was the exact
opposite
of Sven, she scolded herself for having such lascivious thoughts and hurried indoors to give Raven her supper.

Gabriel awakened just before sunup the next morning. The pain in his lower back was less excruciating and he knew now he could tolerate it. Pulling on his boots, he gently stretched the stiffness from his muscles then left the barn and walked slowly to the water trough.

The sun was still below the eastern horizon, while
overhead
a sliver of moon still lingered in the cloudy,
lavender-gray
sky. A cool, dry breeze off the desert washed over his face, tugging at his unruly black hair. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fragrance of candlewood and desert lilies, and expelled it in a long deep sigh of
satisfaction
.

For the first time in three days he felt truly alive. Ever since he had ridden away from Cally’s sister, Ellen, who had begged him to let her take him to a doctor, he’d expected to die. He had hung on for as long as he could, all sense of time and reality suspended in his mind. But as his life-blood slowly drained from him, saturating his shirt and reddening the flanks of the Morgan, he’d gradually lost consciousness.

But every man has a time to die and this hadn’t been Gabriel’s. And now, thanks to strangers, here he was, alive and on the mend.

As he bent over the trough he saw the moon floating on
the surface of the water. He playfully poked it with his finger and the reflection dissolved into shimmering ripples. Splashing cold water on his face, he straightened up and patted himself dry with his kerchief.

High overhead, a hawk screeched. He looked up and saw it, wings outspread, drifting on a thermal as it searched the desert for breakfast.

Off to his left the circular vane of the old, patched
windmill
creaked in the wind above the well. It reminded him of yesterday, of how the woman’s quick thinking had saved his life a second time, and he looked at the cabin, hoping to see Ingrid standing in the door beckoning him in for breakfast. But the door was closed and no light showed inside. Glumly, he realized he’d have to wait a little longer for his coffee.

As he walked to the barn he heard a familiar snorting behind him, followed by pounding hoofs. Whirling, he looked at the corral – in time to see the Morgan charging toward the fence. A collision seemed inevitable. But at the last instant the stallion leaped, effortlessly clearing the fence. It landed and without breaking stride charged toward him. Its teeth were bared and there was red fire in its eyes and Gabriel knew the horse intended to run him down.

There was nowhere to hide and in his condition it was useless to try and run; so Gabriel stood there, wishing he hadn’t left his Colt in the barn, watching the stallion
rushing
at him.

‘C’mon, you black devil,’ he yelled at it. ‘Do your goddamn worst!’

The stallion was almost on him now. Gabriel felt the ground trembling underfoot. He tensed himself for the blow. But it never came. At the last instant the charging Morgan swerved, narrowly missing Gabriel, its body so close that its flowing tail whipped him across the chest. 

Relieved, and at the same time angered by the stallion’s erratic behavior, Gabriel watched it stop a short distance past him. He expected it to charge him again. Instead it reared up, front legs pawing at the air and whinnied triumphantly – as if, Gabriel thought, to remind him who was really the boss.

‘I knew he was foolin’ with you,’ a small voice said.

Gabriel turned and saw Raven approaching from the desert, slingshot in one hand and two dead rabbits in the other.

‘That so? Know all about horses, do you?’

‘Not all,’ she said, unfazed by his sarcasm. ‘But enough to know a bluff when I see one.’

‘Maybe you’d feel a mite different if you were standin’ right in front him.’

‘I doubt it,’ she said brashly. ‘Brandy tried to ramrod me for a spell yesterday while we were hiding in Furnace Canyon. But once he saw I wasn’t gonna get riled up like you do, he soon got his manners back. Did you know he likes piñon nuts?’ she added. ‘Well, he does. Lots. In fact if I was you, mister, I’d fill my pockets with ’em and then maybe you’d be able to win him over like I did.’

Gabriel was tempted to hold her over his knee and spank the daylights out of her.

Raven, sensing she’d gone too far, got ready to take off. ‘Had a dog like him once,’ she said. ‘A Mescalero named Two Bears gave him to me. Well, that ain’t entirely true. Apaches were gonna eat him so I stole him ’fore they could. But you think that mutt was grateful? Heck, no. Used to growl and snap at me whenever I got too close. I took a switch to him a few times but it only made him worse. Got so I almost quit taking him hunting with me—’

‘If you’re tryin’ to make a point,’ Gabriel broke in
irritably
, ‘now’d be the time to get to it.’ 

‘He saved my life, that’s the point, mister. Got himself all tore up by a mountain lion just to give me time to run away.’

‘Brave dog, all right. But with Brandy you’re mistaking courage for meanness. He wouldn’t fight a mountain lion for me. He’d sooner watch me get all chewed up.’

‘That so?’ Raven said in the same tone he’d used earlier. ‘Well, if that’s how you figure it, mister, reckon there’s no use in me telling you ’bout how many miles he carried you without water when you was all shot up … or how many buzzards he kept from pecking your guts out till Momma an’ me got back with the wagon. No sirree. I mean I’m just a runt of a girl. Wouldn’t be right for me to tell a growed man how wrong he was, now would it?’ Whistling insolently, she walked off to the cabin.

‘Hold up, missy.’

Raven turned and saw respect had replaced the anger in Gabriel’s pale blue eyes.

‘I’m obliged to you for bringin’ that to my attention. Some times even a “growed man” gets to thinking so much ’bout himself he forgets how much he owes others around him.’ With a tip of his hat, he headed back to the barn.

‘Wait….’ Raven, impressed by his response, held the dead rabbits up by their ears. ‘Wanna help me skin these?’

‘Only if I get to help you eat ’em.’

‘Deal.’

That night they ate rabbit stew for supper. Ingrid flavored it with onions or ‘skunk eggs’ as Gabriel called them, carrots, potatoes and herbs, all from her garden, and as an extra treat whipped up flour dumplings. She also intended to bake a pie. But Raven surprised her by offering to make one for her – ‘You got so much else to do, Momma.’

‘Well, thank you, lamb. That would be most helpful.’ Ingrid, not fooled by her daughter’s unusual eagerness to 
help, got an even bigger surprise when just before Gabriel arrived Raven walked out of the bedroom with her hair brushed and wearing her one and only Sunday dress. It had been so long since Ingrid had seen her in anything but frayed jeans and a soiled boy’s shirt that her mouth fell open.

‘Why you gaping at me like that?’ Raven demanded. ‘It’s nothing but a silly old gingham dress.’

‘And very pretty you look in it, too. I’m sure Mr Moonlight will be delighted—’

‘I’m not wearing it for him, Momma. I just felt like putting it on is all. So don’t go making a big fuss out of it.’

There was a knock on the half-open door and Gabriel poked his head in. ‘Hope I’m not too early,’ he said when Ingrid beckoned him in. ‘But the smell of that pie baking got my mouth to waterin’—’ He stopped, surprised, as he saw Raven in her primrose dress and then turned to Ingrid. ‘You didn’t tell me you were invitin’ a lady to supper.’

‘That’s because I wasn’t aware of it myself,’ she said,
smiling
. ‘Puts us all to shame, doesn’t she?’

‘All right,’ Raven scowled. ‘Dang it, that’s enough. You two can quit your teasing now or I’m gonna take this dumb thing off.’

‘Why, bless me, it’s Raven,’ Gabriel deadpanned. ‘I never would’ve guessed.’

‘I’m warning you, mister.’

‘Now, now,’ Ingrid soothed. ‘That’s enough. Let’s all be nice and polite and sit down to supper. But I feel obliged to tell you,’ she added to Gabriel. ‘The berry pie you mentioned – I didn’t bake it. Raven did.’

Gabriel arched his brows, impressed. ‘Well, ain’t you a daisy. Territory’s full of pretty women but a pretty woman who can bake a pie smells like that – now that’s a rare commodity an’ somethin’ a fella would find hard to resist.’ 

Raven blushed, murmured ‘good-God-almighty’ under her breath and ran into the bedroom.

Amused, Ingrid whispered to Gabriel. ‘I fear she has a crush on you.’

‘I’m flattered. But I don’t want her missin’ supper over it.’

Ingrid motioned for him to remain seated and entered the bedroom. Shortly she reappeared, pushing Raven ahead of her.

‘Now,’ she said when they were all seated. ‘Perhaps you’d be kind enough to lead us in prayer, Mr Moonlight.’

‘My pleasure, ma’am. And please, call me Gabe.’