Touching Stars (41 page)

“But
have
you moved on? It’s been a long time, Travis.” Her tone softened. “Have you finally fallen in love again?”

He didn’t smile. “A while ago.”

She wanted to be happy for him. She struggled to attain it. “I’m glad for you….”

“There’s a
but
somewhere.”

“But I guess I feel like I’m losing my best friend. I know that’s selfish. I really want you to be happy. I just see things changing. For the better for you, of course, and maybe for me. But I’m going to miss…” She stopped herself. “Miss having your ear any time I want it.”

“There’s no doubt things will change.” He pushed away from the pickup. “Decisions to make, huh?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what I should do about Eric? It will make my life easier.”

“Because then you would still feel stuck. You don’t want that. You have to find your own way on this.”

“I guess, if the play’s at all accurate, Miranda Duncan had to deal with all these feelings too. And she lived to be…what? Ninety-five? I guess I’m destined to be a very old lady.”

“I hope I’m around to see it.” He slung his arm over her shoulders and gave her a brief hug. “You’ll stay for the last campfire? Tired or not? I don’t want you to miss the ending of the play.”

She leaned against him and wondered how long they would be able to do this. He felt solid and warm, and she didn’t want him to move. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Not even a feather bed.”

He squeezed her shoulder before he moved away. “Come see what we’re doing at the unit near the river when you have time. It’s been a productive day.”

She watched him go. And despite all the work, she was sorry archaeology camp was ending.

1865

T
he hour was late when I finally started home. I expected to find a quiet house, but instead I found my mother in her nightdress and wrapper standing outside, looking up at our roof. Her hair hung in one bright braid over her shoulder, and her arms were folded tightly over her chest.

She turned when I approached. Her tone was carefully neutral, so I couldn’t tell what she was feeling.

“Where have you been?”

“Down by the river.”

“I’ve been worried.”

“You told me to go. I went.”

She looked back up at the roof. “I just went down to the cabin to look for Eb. Cora says he’s gone over to the Hendersons’. You saw him?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s got a ride into town first thing in the morning.” Lying didn’t come easily, and I felt ashamed, although I was still angry with her.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.”

I shrugged, although she wasn’t looking at me. “Why are you standing out here?” I thought about what she’d said. “And why were you looking for Uncle Eb?”

“Robby, I apologized. Now your part is to accept it or not, but not to ignore it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I paused. “I guess I don’t have the right to question what you do.” I couldn’t say more. Now there was no point in arguing about Blackjack’s presence. I had made an irrevocable decision.

“We’ll put it behind us, then. And I went looking for Eb because a coon’s stuck in our chimney. It’s probably a female looking for a place to have her young. Only she’s crashing around and squeaking like she can’t get out. Eb plastered some cracks last month, and I think the inside’s too smooth and she can’t get a grip. I looked up with the lantern, and I could see her thrashing around.”

“What about Ralph?”

“It appears Eb brought back more than beef today. Seems he brought some joy juice, too. Ralph’s been sampling it. He’s no good for something like this.”

I heard the front door close, and Blackjack came down the steps. He wore no hat or vest, and looked as if he might have been getting ready for bed. He joined us on the lawn and turned back to look at the house.

“I imagine this has something to do with the noise in your chimney?”

“A raccoon.” My mother repeated what she had told me.

I wondered what Uncle Eb would do if he were here. He wasn’t a cruel man, but he was a practical one. I doubted the raccoon would be better for it.

“Poor thing,” Blackjack said. “That’ll be a horrible way to die.”

“Horrible for all of us,” Ma agreed.

“And you’re certain she’s stuck?”

“I’m sure she would have escaped if she could.”

“Then there’s only one thing to do.”

I expected Blackjack to say we needed to shoot her, then net or hook the body tomorrow and heave it up. Instead, he walked around to the side of the house and stared up at the roof. My mother glanced at me, and I shrugged. We followed him.

He was inspecting things from this new angle. “Robby, will you find me a brick or a small rock? And I’ll need either a good thick rope or some old sheets I can tie together.”

“What are you going to do?” Ma asked.

“Climb up that tree, get on your roof and lower the rope so she’ll be able to find her way out. We’ll tie something to the end to be sure the rope goes down, and we’ll have to anchor it on the other end, maybe by tying it to the tree.”

“There’s a rope hanging in the barn that should work,” I said. Every old sheet we’d ever possessed had gone to making bandages during the war.

“Get it, and we’ll tie some knots for Milady Raccoon to use as steps.”

“I’ll get it,” Ma said. “But you’re not going up on that roof. Not with your leg the way it is.”

“On the contrary. I was the tree-climbing champion in my family, and I’ll be extra careful of the leg. But it’s my idea, and my job to carry it out.”

“I can do it.” I stepped forward. “And we have a ladder.”

He grinned at me, looking for a moment as he must have as a boy. “Don’t spoil my fun. And it’s my pleasure to do something in exchange for all you’ve done. Now, go see about a weight.” He paused. “And, Robby, I’d like my revolver. I don’t know what you did with it when I was ill, but it would serve me well on the roof. Just in case.”

I could tell my mother was silently debating whether to let me obey, but in the end she left for the barn, and I left to get the revolver from Aunt Cora and to find a suitable weight.

I returned first. Blackjack casually pocketed his gun; then he examined my rock. He agreed it was the perfect size to send down the chimney.

“I’ll have to do it carefully or I’ll knock Milady unconscious.” He looked up at me and lowered his voice. “I know you and your mother are fighting, and I have a good enough idea what it’s about.”

“It’s not your concern.”

He lowered his voice further. “I can’t stay much longer. Just give me a few more days. It’s good for your mother to have a friend. It’s good for me, as well.”

I couldn’t say anything without lying, so I said nothing.

He shook his head. “It’s so easy to pass judgment at fourteen. I remember too well.”

How I wished it
were
easy, that I was just a boy reacting to the sudden addition of a man in my mother’s life. And at heart, was that my real concern? Had I exaggerated everything else as an excuse to remove Blackjack from our lives, the way we were about to remove the poor raccoon? Only most likely with much more cruelty and, ultimately, destruction.

My mother returned before either the conversation or my thoughts could go deeper. “I’ve brought two. The thicker one might be best inside the chimney, the thinner tied to it. Together they should stretch to the tree.”

“I’ll do it.” I held out my hand for the rope. I didn’t like climbing on the roof and knew that climbing around at night would make that worse. But I didn’t want Blackjack to be a hero. Not for my mother and not for me.

Blackjack took the rope before Ma could hand it to me. “There’s always a danger of hydrophobia with these coons. And I’m not going to let you take the chance of her getting out and attacking before you can get away. Your mother needs you too much.” He smiled at Ma. “Don’t you?”

Ma just looked worried. “I’ve no desire to see either of you tumble off the edge. Perhaps we should wait until morning.”

“No, coons are active at night. This is the best way.” He cupped my shoulder and shook me playfully. “But I’ll need you down on the ground to tie the rock to the rope when I lower it, so I don’t have to carry it with me.”

Despite myself, I was grateful.

“How will you get up the tree without putting weight on your leg?” Ma asked.

“Carefully.” He smiled tenderly at her as he tied four knots in the thickest rope. “I’ll use my arms. Don’t worry. If I can’t, I’ll come down. I’ve no desire to reinjure myself.”

There was nothing more to be said. No one would sleep with the coon thrashing around in the chimney all night, and Blackjack was determined to do this the kindest way. Grudgingly, I had to admire him both for that and for his willingness to risk his safety.

The rescue only took minutes. He was surprisingly agile for a man with a leg that hadn’t completely mended. He went up the tree faster than I’d expected and carefully made his way to the chimney across the wood shingles my father and Uncle Eb had hewed by hand. Below on the ground, Ma and I watched and listened. I’d expected him to be quiet, but he surprised us both. He began to sing, as if to prove that music did soothe the savage beast.

“I’ll never hear that song again without thinking of him,” Ma said, as if to herself.

I was afraid I wouldn’t, either.

He lowered the rope over the side, and I carefully tied the rock, circling it in several directions so it wouldn’t fall out when he hauled it up. He continued to sing until he had lowered the rock slowly into the chimney. As he made his way back to the tree, he stretched the rope behind him; then he secured it to a branch.

In a few minutes he was beside us again. “Now we wait.”

I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself. “You could have shot her. What difference does it make to you? You risked your life up there just to save a raccoon.”

“Despite what you might think, I have no desire to make any living creature suffer. In war, sometimes we kill to save lives. But that distinction’s never an easy one to draw.”

“You thought it was perfectly fine that John Wilkes Booth killed the President. Isn’t a human life worth more than a raccoon?”

“I think the man who killed Abraham Lincoln believed he could change the world for the better.” He sounded sad. “Perhaps his greatest sin was thinking himself capable of such a decision. Because now it appears he was wrong, and more men are dead because of it.”

I felt as if an icy wind had blown over me, and I shuddered.

Blackjack looked at me, his gaze steady and unwavering. “It’s a subject you keep coming back to.”

My mother pointed to the chimney. “I think it worked. Look.”

We gazed up at the roof, and as we watched, a small shadow crept along the ridge, then disappeared into the foliage of the tree.

“Let’s go inside and see for certain,” Blackjack said.

I made an excuse about checking the chicken yard and the barn, since Ralph might not have done it in Uncle Eb’s place. “I’ll be in after a while.”

“Don’t dawdle,” Ma said. “Tomorrow you and Ralph will have to plow without Eb, and you’ll need to be up early.”

I watched them go inside together, then I did what I’d said I would. But I moved as if in a dream.

My life had been straightforward until now. There had been few decisions to make. I wore what clothes I had, ate the food in front of me, did the chores that needed to be done. No one had prepared me to decide another’s future. I wondered if this was what it meant to be a man.

Blackjack Brewer had a tender heart. He had risked his own safety to save a raccoon. He had never been less than kind to me. And whatever his link to my mother, he had made her smile again. There was as much evidence
for
him as the tattoo, broken leg and knowledge of Shakespeare were evidence against.

I ended a long ramble around the farmyard in the barn. Mice rustled in the hayloft, and Blackjack’s mare stood quietly in her stall. I leaned against a post and watched her.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I jerked my head and saw Blackjack behind me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He came to stand beside me. “I thought you heard my footsteps. The coon’s gone. Remember that trick if it ever happens again.”

We stood that way without saying anything, until I thought the silence would choke me.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he said at last. “Is there something I can help with, Robby?”

I realized that for years to come, I would ask myself exactly what he meant by this question. Did he know I suspected him of being Lincoln’s assassin? Or was he simply asking out of kindness if I had a problem he could help with? I didn’t want to know the answer, because my problem had finally been resolved, my decision made once and for all. Blackjack’s arrival in the barn was the only piece of help I had needed.

I faced him squarely. “You need to pack and go. Tonight. I know who you are, or at least I think I do. But I don’t want to say it out loud, and I don’t want you to admit or deny it, in case I’m ever asked. I just want you out of here. Uncle Eb’s riding into town tonight, and it’s likely he’ll be back in the morning with soldiers.”

He didn’t seem surprised. “You sent him?”

I nodded.

“But now you’re telling me to go?” He smiled sadly.

“God speed you on your way.”

He watched me for a moment; then he sighed. “This has been hard for you.”

That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear. “Once she finds you’re gone, it’s going to be harder for my mother.”

“You wouldn’t have sent Eb to report me unless you meant me to be caught. What changed your mind?”

“Something you said tonight.”

“And what was that?”

“That Booth’s greatest sin wasn’t the assassination, it was thinking he was capable of deciding who should die. I’m not ready to commit the same sin. Whoever you really are,
whatever
you’ve done, you won’t get a fair hearing. Not for a long time, and surely not tomorrow, when they come for you.”

“I see.”

“Then you’ll leave?”

“Immediately.”

There was nothing left to say. We walked back up to the house in silence, and I waited on the porch while he got his things. He came back so soon that I knew he hadn’t awakened my mother to say goodbye. I was grateful for that.

I had no reason to accompany him back to the barn. He would saddle Princess and leave, and my decisions would be over. Tomorrow, if soldiers came looking for him, I could tell them the truth. A man with some astonishing similarities to the one who had shot Lincoln had recovered here, but when we woke up in the morning, he was gone.