This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [108]
“Where’s Jack?”
“Dunno. Round some’ers.” The cook set a bowl of stew on the table. “Ye looks like ye been squeezed through a knothole, Bulldog. He, he, he! Them rangers on yore tail?”
Bulldog gave him a disgusted look and began eating.
“Ain’t had so much goin’ on . . . since the hogs et my brother.” The cook eyed Bulldog to see if he appreciated his joke.
“I didn’t know you’d come back.” Pud came into the cookhouse and the hand he poked into the crock came out with a fistful of dried peaches.
“Well, ya know now. Where’s Jack?”
“Dunno. Round some’ers.”
“Is that all anybody can say round here? Dunno! Dunno!” Bulldog gave a snort of disgust. “Get off your arse ‘n find him.”
Thirty minutes later, he and Jack sat in the yard, away from the bunkhouse, away from the curious ears anxious to know what was happening now. Jack did most of the talking, telling Bulldog everything from the time Slater rode off into the hills until the army troop took the prisoners to the fort. Told him about Travis shooting Ellen, told him about Travis’s torture of Slater and Slater being brought in by the Apache. It was a lot for Bulldog’s tired mind to soak in, but he had to know it all before he dropped the news that Summer was in the hotel in Hamilton and Jesse Thurston had taken her there. He waited patiently for Jack to finish explaining about Slater being so upset about Summer going to the Rocking S for Ellen’s burial.
Jack built a smoke while Bulldog told the reason he had high-tailed it out of town and almost rode his horse to death getting back to the Keep.
“What do you make of it?” Jack asked.
“I ain’t got no idey.”
“Slater’s beside his self a worryin’. Ain’t gonna be no holdin’ him down once he hears that she’s in town.” Jack was thoughtful for a moment. “Ain’t no use me ridin’ to the Rockin S, now.”
“Why do ya reckon she went and did somethin’ like that for? A goin’ off with Jesse with Slater all stove up . . . I’d just never a thought it of ’er. I’d a swore she was solid.”
“Wal, she done it, and we ain’t goin’ to be able to keep it from Slater much longer. If’n we could wait another day, t’would give his side and ribs a lit’l more time to heal. He’s a goin’ to be rarin’ when we tell him. Ya know how he gits.”
“I know.” Bulldog grinned in spite of his weariness.
“He got a temper what matches Sam’s when he gets riled.”
Both men sat in thoughtful silence. They had one strong common bond between them. They both loved Slater like a son. They both had been elated when he fell in love with Summer and she with him. It seemed to them that the boy who had been alone so much, bitter over his pa’s murder and his own scarred face, had found the gold nugget all men dreamed of finding.
“I think the best we can do, Bulldog, is ta give ’em another day to heal up, ’afore we tell ’em. He thinks I’ll be gone tomorry so he won’t be askin’ and if he dunno you’re back, it’ll take care of some of the time. I’ll tell Teresa not to let nobody near him, no matter how loud he bellers. She might could slip a bit of that Indian powder in his grub to settle him down. We can stay out a sight, but by tomorry night we’ll have to tell him, and God knows what hell might break loose.”
“I can’t think of nothin’ better ta do,” Bulldog said, with a wide yawn. “I’m so all tuckered out I can’t hold my eyes apart. If’n I don’t wake when you think I ort to, come ’n get me.”
Seventeen
Friday finally came. It followed five of the most miserable days of Summer’s life. Today, at noon, she would board the stage that would take her away from Hamilton forever. By the time the first light of dawn came, she was up and dressed and sitting beside the window. Later, after she ate the breakfast left on the tray in the hall, she repacked her trunk and returned to the window where she could watch for the first sight of Jesse, who was coming to take her to the stage office.
Jesse had been to see her twice during the last five