This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [96]
She closed her eyes and almost immediately they flew open. “You won’t let me die, will you, Jesse? You . . . always take care of . . . me.” A great gush of blood came up and out of her mouth, soaking her, the bedclothes and Jesse’s hands clutched tightly in hers. She looked at him with startled, accusing eyes just before the second gush. The staring eyes remained open.
Minutes went by. Jesse loosened his hands from her death grip and took the wet cloth Sadie offered. After wiping his hands, he gently closed Ellen’s eyelids and washed the blood from her face and hands. That done, he stood looking down at her.
“I’ll take care of her, Jesse.” Sadie stood beside him. “She has a clean dress in her valise.”
“I’ll thank you for it.”
Tom got to his feet when Jesse came out onto the veranda. Night had come and Jesse wasn’t aware of it.
“Is it over?” Tom stood, awkwardly, twisting his dusty hat round and round in his hands.
“Yes, it’s over.” Jesse was dog-tired, and his voice showed it.
“If’n I’d just been a mite sooner, Jesse. . . .”
“You couldn’t of known, Tom. I thought it would be me and Travis.”
“Yes, but. . . .”
“It’s over, and I thank you for what you done. If you hadn’t of, I’d of had to do it.” Jesse rolled a smoke with not quite steady fingers, “What’s the word from Slane?”
“They killed a few of them and the rest gave up when they saw what they was up against. They got ’em hog-tied fer the night and ’ll start out with ’em in the mornin’.” Tom went to the edge of the porch and spit. “I knowed Travis was runnin’ with a wild bunch, but didn’t know he’d got in so deep.”
“I knew it, Tom. So did the captain.”
“He had a cruel, mean streak a mile wide. Showed up when he was no bigger than knee-high to a jack rabbit. Guess his ma givin’ him everythin’ he wanted didn’t help it none.”
“Guess not.”
Tom stood silently, then said: “The boys has hammered up two real nice boxes, Jesse.” He paused. “Good, clean wood.”
“It was good of them. I’ll get a wagon from Jack and we’ll head for home come daylight.”
When Sadie finished with Ellen, she drew a clean sheet up over her face. It had been a distasteful job, but one she wouldn’t have shirked for anything. It was for Jesse, she kept telling herself. If I only get the chance to make it up to him, she prayed. I’II make him feel happy and wanted and loved.
Whispering instructions, because Summer sat at the table sleeping, her head on her folded arms, she sent John Austin up to bed and undressed the protesting Mary. The child wanted to see Jesse. Sadie promised that maybe, just maybe, Jesse would come in and say something to her. That satisfied the little girl. Sadie fervently hoped she would go to sleep and it wouldn’t be necessary for her to ask Jesse to do such a trivial thing.
Later, she went out onto the porch, balancing a plate of food in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Jesse got up and came to her, taking the cup from her hand. She stood hesitantly.
“Sit with me.” He sounded bone-weary.
“If n you eat this.”
“I’ll eat.”
She sat beside him. He ate the food quickly and emptied the cup.
“Guess I was hungry. Any more coffee? Sit still, I’ll get it.”
When he returned, he sat quite close to her and, to her surprise, picked up her hand and held it enfolded in his. After a while he spoke.
“Guess you’re wondering about me and . . . Ellen.”
“Well . . .” His words had taken her by surprise.
He set his cup down and took her hand between both of his, playing with her fingers.
“I don’t know if anybody would understand it but me.”
“I’ll . . . understand.” Sadie