By jfclover

Chapter 1

“What’s there to worry about?   I’m only filling in for a month.  Besides, Jake Stevens is riding shotgun, and he’s the best there is.”

My father wasn’t convinced, but I needed him to believe I could do the job, and that I’d return safe and sound.  Sometimes he worried too much, and this was one of those times.  What could possibly go wrong that couldn’t go wrong if I was working at home?  Men get hurt.  Men get in trouble, but I’ve been in trouble before.  I’ve been hurt before, but I was still alive and well and able to tell my story.

“Take care, Son.”

“I will.  Don’t worry!”

When Pa dropped me at the stage depot in Virginia City, I jumped down from the seat, grabbed my assortment of luggage, and nodded at my father.  I had too many bags to ride Cooch into town, so Pa drove me in the buckboard.  He had insisted I take half of what I owned just in case.  I tried to argue but lost the battle and walked out the door with more baggage than a fancy woman would take on a cross-country trip.  I’d learned early in life to pick my battles, and this one wasn’t worth the fight. 

Pa and I didn’t always see things eye to eye, but I was due a two-week vacation, and when Mr. Owens, the station agent, asked if I’d be willing to drive his westbound stage, I couldn’t resist the adventure and said yes before talking to Pa.  That didn’t bode well, but I’d already agreed to take the position and hoped my word meant something.  When I asked my father for an extra two weeks off, that didn’t go well either although he knew how much I wanted to drive a coach and agreed to let me go.

“See you in a couple of weeks.”

“Stay safe, Son.”

“I will, Pa.”

As I turned into the station, Jake Stevens met me at the door.  “Hi, Jake.”

“Hey, Joe.  You ready for all this?”

“Ready as you are.”

“If you get me to Sacramento and back in one piece, I’ll buy the first beer.”

“And if you keep the bandits away, I’ll do the honors.”

“It’s a deal.”

I’d known Jake and his brother Josh since we were boys in school.  With bright red hair and freckles, they were tall and lanky and were the best shots in Storey County.  If Jake didn’t win a contest, Josh did.  They were highly competitive, and one was as skillful as the other when it came to loading and shooting a rifle.  I was lucky to have Jake by my side on the driver’s seat.

Mr. Owens was glad to see us on time and ready to roll.  He shook both of our hands.  That was after I’d offloaded most of my baggage in the corner of the room.  He’d been at the job as long as I can remember, and he reminded me of an old mountain man who’d turned city boy, but I doubt he’d ever spent a day in the woods with only bears and wildcats to communicate with.  I liked Mr. Owens.  He did his job well and expected his employees to do the same.

“We’ll do a good job for you,” I said.

“I hope so, Son.  You two are the finest boys I know, but don’t think this is easy money.  This is a tough job for any man who’s willing to bust his butt by driving as fast and as steady as he knows how.  Think you’re up to the job, Little Joe?”

“I sure am, and Jake is too.  You won’t have to worry about either of us filling in for a month while Ezra and Louis recuperate.  Tell them not to worry.  We’ll keep their stage intact until they’re ready to come back to work.”

Mr. Owens stepped out from behind the counter and looked us square in the eye.  “Them renegades haven’t been caught yet, Boys.”

“I know that, Sir, but Jake’s the fastest gun in the West, and as I explained to my father, there’s no need for worry.”

“Joe ain’t a bad shooter himself, Mr. Owens.  Between the two of us, we got it covered.”

The station agent landed his hands on our shoulders.  “Good luck, Boys.  That’s all I can say.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

The stage didn’t leave for another half hour, which gave me time to throw what I needed into one bag and stow the rest under Mr. Owen’s counter for safekeeping.  I’d grab them when Pa came to pick me up at the end of the month.  A few necessities were all a man needed to get by.

When it was time to climb aboard and take the reins in my hands, I was ready for the adventure of a lifetime.  Jake was too.  I could see the excitement of a brand-new mission in his eyes.  With five passengers loaded inside, and their gear thrown on top of the brightly painted red coach, we were ready to roll.  I’d ridden this road many times before, but we were still given a map that showed every way station on our route.  We would change horses every ten to fifteen miles, but we wouldn’t let the passengers out to rest every time.  Only once during the day would we stop for coffee and food.

By the time we reached the first station, Jake and I had run through all the passengers we carried.  Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin were about my father’s age and going to see their daughter in San Francisco.   Mr. Simpson was a businessman, but that’s all he had to say.   Martha Metcalf and her son, Simon, were heading west on an adventure.  We both thought she was brave to travel alone, but widows who’d lost husbands often looked for a new life away from all the brutality of war.  I had a feeling she was one of those women.

Chapter 2

It wasn’t long before we were high into the Sierras and the road became as rough as the high seas.  At least, that’s what my father would say after his many voyages as a young man.  I listened to those tales of traveling across miles and miles of ocean but didn’t really understand the concept.  Of course, I was five years old at the time, but I don’t think those stories ever left my oldest brother’s mind.   He’s a traveler now.  Sailing to different ports and seeing the sights appeals to him more than it ever did to Hoss or me.  We were satisfied to stay in one place, to work the land and enjoy the results of our labors.

When I returned home, I could tell tall tales about my monthlong travels over snowcapped mountains and through lush, green valleys, of nights spent in way stations and days spent staring at a long, continuous road that led to our destination.  

By day three, I felt at ease with the reins in my hands, and my feet propped on the boot in front of the strongbox.  We carried two thousand dollars, not a huge amount, but enough that an outlaw could live high on the hog unless he had to split the amount with his cohorts.  We’d been lucky so far.  No sign of renegade Indians and no sign of stage robbers. 

Jake and I kept our eyes peeled for any kind of disturbance.  A dust cloud that shouldn’t be in our path or noises that shouldn’t be heard in wide-open spaces would alert us to trouble.  Playing a rhythmic tune, our metal-rimmed wheels were the only sound allowed.

When we pulled into Sacramento, I was exhausted although I didn’t dare let it show.  I remember explaining conditioning to Hoss a couple of years ago, but now it was me who needed to heed my own advice.  I needed to condition myself for the long, grueling days of sitting on my butt and keeping my eyes tied to the road.  There were times I’d forget to blink, and my eyes would grow so tired and bloodshot, I wondered if I might go blind.

After we dropped our passengers off at the depot, we had a twelve-hour layover before we began the return trip.  Mr. Simpson had reached his destination, and the rest of the travelers would continue on west.  I wished everyone well, and Jake and I agreed that a cold beer and a nap were in order before we climbed aboard the same stage and headed home.

I’d told my father there wouldn’t be any trouble, but he had a hard time believing me after I told him why Jake and I were taking the place of Ezra and Louis.  They’d been caught unaware.  Road bandits wanted the strongbox and the driver and shotgun both took a bullet.  After assuring Pa that would never happen to me and Jake, that we were better shots, I still don’t think he thought my vacation sounded like a great idea.  But I was too old for him to lock me in my room and hide the key. 

I was a grown man who could make my own decisions, and the freedom of driving a coach was the most fun I’d had in a long time.  Sailing across open land and flying down mountain trails was the biggest thrill I’d ever had.  I’d be sad to let the job go at month’s end.

Before the return trip, I glanced down at the passenger list.  We only had five this time and three sacks of mail.  Three men and two women.  I didn’t take as much interest as my first run.  I’d drop two of our commuters off in Placerville and take the rest to Virginia City.  There wasn’t much point in finding out who was who.

Jake and I didn’t talk much during our journey.  We were content to sit and watch the scenery fly past.  Heck, I didn’t even need a shotgun rider on this trip.  We didn’t carry a strongbox, and it seemed a shame to waste good money on a second employee.  Most bandits were smart.  Most of them knew exactly what we carried from town to town.

We only had a four-hour layover this time, no time to visit with the family or get some much-needed sleep, but Jake and I could handle whatever was thrown our way.

When the trip was over, I winked at Jake and clapped him on the back as we crossed the street toward the saloon.  I don’t think I’ve ever swallowed so much dust in my life.”

“I know what you mean.  A little rain wouldn’t hurt.  Them roads are a dust storm in disguise.”

“Ain’t that the truth.  Let’s get a beer.  I’m buying.”

I’d swallowed so much dirt on the return trip that my throat felt ragged and sore.  I’m sure Jake’s was too, but we didn’t dwell on unpleasant things.  We’d each have a beer and wash some of the grit away before we headed back to Sacramento.  Pa would have to understand that there wasn’t enough time for a family reunion this time around

The next two runs were made in less time than I thought possible.  I assumed we’d have more time to rest between trips, but that wasn’t the case.  I needed to close my eyes.  I needed a good night’s sleep, but that would have to wait.  I didn’t realize until this week how hard a stage driver worked.  There was no time for proper sleep, and I was beginning to think that driving a bright red coach wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

My throat hadn’t gotten any better; in fact, everything hurt.  My eyes burned, and I probably had a fever although there wasn’t much I could do but keep the stage rolling forward toward our next destination.  I didn’t say anything to Jake, but I had to squint hard to see the cut of the road.  My body began to fail me, and I couldn’t do anything about it.  By the time we dropped off our passengers in Sacramento, I could barely stand up and that’s when Jake noticed how bad off I’d become.

“You got real quiet, Little Joe, and I figured you didn’t feel good, but I didn’t know you was ready to keel over.”

“I’m fine, Jake.  I’ll be fine.  I just need some sleep.”

I’d heard about drivers that slept en route and let the team take its rein.  I hadn’t done that, and if Jake had gotten some shuteye during one of our runs, I wasn’t aware.  Surely, we’d get some time off now.  After offloading all the luggage, the two of us headed inside the depot.

“Hey, Boys. You made good time.”

“Thanks, Mr. Bates.  We aim to please.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”  The station agent had no complaints because there was nothing to complain about.  Jake and I did the job well.  We just needed a few hours off.

“Let’s see …” Bates glanced down his sheet of departures and arrivals.  “You boys have five hours before your next run.”

“Five?”

“That’s right, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Do we ever get a full night’s sleep?”

“Not till we hire more drivers.”

“It better be soon.”

Jake and I headed straight for a saloon.  I needed to clear the dust, and I needed to sleep.  It seemed ridiculous to pay for a hotel room, but if I could, I’d pay a whore for the use of her upstairs room.  Anything for a few hours of sleep would serve me well.

After a couple of warm beers, Jake leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, and after folding my arms on the tabletop, they served as a pillow for my aching head.  When Jake shook my arm to wake me, I was so confused by my surroundings, fear rushed over me until I got my bearings and realized where we were and why we were there.

But I was quick to get back on track.  I stood from my chair but had to steady myself with my hand on the table for support.  I was dizzy and sweat trickled down the sides of my face.  I wasn’t in great shape, but I had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to shed my responsibilities just because of a few sniffles.

“We better hit the road.”

“Yeah.  It’s time.  You feel all right?”

“Good enough.  Let’s go.”

Chapter 3

A three-inch candle shone in the far corner of the room.  An old woman wearing a ratty straw hat sat in a chair whose rungs creaked on the wooden floor and woke me from a dead sleep.  A sweet scent of tobacco smelled similar to my father’s, but Pa wasn’t in the room.  This wasn’t my room or even my house.  With a corncob pipe clenched between her teeth, my host rocked back and forth as she wove a lariat with fingers plagued by rheumatism.

I stared for a long time before I got the nerve to speak.  “Hello.”

“It’s about darn time you woke.  I’s praying you wouldn’t die. I ain’t as strong as I used to be.  Didn’t want to drag you out back and have to bury you next to the other one.”

“The other one?”

“That fire-headed friend of yours.  He was dead when I found you boys lying on the side of the road.  Ain’t nobody else around, and maybe you ain’t noticed, but I ain’t a young woman.  It weren’t easy hauling you both onto the back of my wagon.” 

Jake was dead and I was alive.  What the hell happened?  Where was the stage and the people inside?  I needed a story to tell the station agent, but I couldn’t remember a thing.

“You was burnin’ up when I found you.  You’d been shot in the shoulder, but I’m afraid your friend took a bullet dead center.  That poor boy was gone before he hit the ground.”

I glanced down at my bandaged shoulder.  I hadn’t realized the extent of my injuries.  The last thing I recalled was Jake and I climbing aboard the stage for the return trip to Virginia City.  I didn’t feel well, and I was as tired as heck, but I had a job to do, and with Jake by my side, I didn’t have reason to fret.

We’d offloaded our last two passengers in Placerville and were heading home.   I tried to recall if we carried a strongbox and if memory serves, we had a boatload of cash from the Milton Mine to be dropped off at the Virginia City Bank.

“Ma’am?”

“What you need?”

“Was there a stagecoach or horses or … did you see anyone else on the road?”

“Not a soul.  You and your red-headed friend was the only ones I saw.  There weren’t no one else around.  Why you ask?  Was you on a stage?”

“Yes, Ma’am.  I was the driver.”

The old woman shook her head.  I felt like shaking mine too, but I was too tired to think about anything except how much my shoulder hurt.  Funny.  I didn’t feel an excessive amount of pain until she told me about the bullet.  Now, it hurt like hell.

Jake was twenty-four years old, too young to die for a silly job I didn’t think was that hazardous.  He was good with a gun and protected people he didn’t even know.    He was a good friend and a good man.  We’d spent hours on end drinking beer and playing cards.  We often had the same taste in women and horses.  More than once, we took off for Guthrie’s Meadow and raced our ponies.  I always won, but Jake’s mounts were always on Cooch’s tail.

The old lady brought me back to her world. “You were running a real good fever when we found you.  Don’t know how long you and that friend of yours laid out there before me and Mattie came along, but you was a mighty sick fella.”

“Mattie?”

“My granddaughter.  God knows where she is this time.  Can’t never keep that child in sight.”

No matter what age the girl was, I wasn’t dressed proper enough to be lying around the house with the woman’s granddaughter.  The old lady had seen at least half of me when she pulled the bullet from my shoulder, but a girl.  That was a whole different story.

“How much do you remember?”

“Excuse me?”  Again, my mind had slipped elsewhere, but the old lady brought me back to the present with her question.   “Nothing much.  We were heading to Virginia City and …”

“And?”

“I’m not sure.”  Had I fallen asleep?  I remember sweating, but I was so cold that I couldn’t stop shivering.  Had I crashed the coach and killed my friend, Jake?  Why couldn’t I remember?

“You was hotter’n a stovepipe, but it weren’t from the heat of the day.  Maybe you had some kind of sickness.”

“I did, but it wasn’t that bad.  I could still do my job.”

“You won’t be doing much driving for a while.  Gonna take that shoulder some time to mend.

I laid back on the gray-striped pillow and glanced around the cabin which was no larger than one of our line shacks.   The roughhewn wood lacked a coat of plaster or whitewash that would’ve brightened up the place.  There weren’t any knickknacks or piles of clutter.  Just the opposite.  The place was as sparse as I’d ever seen. 

 While the old woman sat on a wooden chair next to an eating table, she’d given me the only bed available.  Did she sleep in that chair?  Did her granddaughter?  I felt like an intruder, and I wouldn’t stay any longer than I had to, but what I needed most was a bath.

“Is there a river or a stream nearby?”

“Yeah.  Why you ask?”

I sat up and slid my legs over the side of the small bed.  Dizziness hit without warning but that was to be expected.  I’d been lying prone for a long time, and if I was going to be good for anyone, I needed to move around and get my strength back.

“I wanted to wash up some.”

“It’s down that hill behind the cabin.  Think you can make it without help?”

I smiled at the old woman.  She seemed to care more than was warranted, but I appreciated that.  I appreciated everything she’d done for me.  Repaying someone for saving my life was impossible, but I would think of something to show her how grateful I was.

“I’m sure going to try, Ma’am.”

The water I splashed on my face ran down my neck and chest and when I smoothed my hand across the back of my neck, water trickled down my back and made me shiver.  Although nothing had ever felt better, I needed to get back to the cabin and let the old woman know I was okay, but when I heard a noise on the ridge above me, I wondered if it was the old woman’s granddaughter playing in the woods that surrounded the cabin.

Not sure what I was seeing, I squinted my eyes into the sun and was shocked to see a young lady driving a wagon.  Why I thought she was only a child was stupid on my part.  She appeared to be a grown woman, but backwoods folk or not, at least I’d be a bit more presentable after my wash.

After taking a deep breath, I climbed the hill to the cabin and walked inside the dingy, dark structure.  All my life I’d been lucky to have a fine home with fine furnishings.  I often took it for granted, but when I saw how some people lived, I gave thanks for the life I was born into.

The ladies sat in the only two chairs available, and I was forced to sit back down on the bed, which was no place for a man to be when a young lady occupied the same room.  Plus, I didn’t have a shirt, and I could feel my cheeks burn at just the thought of being seen in such a state of undress.  I waited for someone to say something.  I was a guest, and it wasn’t my place to start a conversation.  I dropped my hands between my legs and stared at the dirt floor while I waited for someone else to speak.

“This is my granddaughter, Son.  Her name’s Mattie.”

I stood from the bed.  “Name’s Joe.  Pleasure to meet you, Miss Mattie.”

She dipped her head.  “Likewise, I’m sure.”

With introductions behind us, I was able to sit down and relax and not feel so much like an intruder.  I needed to be on my way, but I had no clue where I was or how far Virginia City was from the old woman’s cabin.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

“Sure you’re ready, Boy?  You’re welcome to stay on till that shoulder heals a bit more.”

“I need to get back to Virginia City.  I have family there who probably think I’m dead.  I need to remedy that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had people.”

“Pa and my brothers.  They’ll be worried.”

“Then we’ll have to get you home.”

“I appreciate that, Ma’am.”

Mattie hadn’t moved or said a word.  With her legs crossed and her chin resting on fisted hand, she seemed bored by the whole conversation.

“Will they come looking?”

“You bet they will.”

“Then we best get you on your way.  Mattie will drive you to town in the morning.  Maybe you can catch another stage.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.  That would be great.”

Mattie had the team hitched before I crawled out of bed.  It never occurred to me she’d want to leave before sunrise.  I’d never been an early riser but seeing me up and dressed this early would have my father and brothers laughing more than was necessary.

Before I swung my legs to the floor, I smelled the old woman’s coffee brewing in a pot hanging in the fireplace.  She’d taken the bullet out of my shoulder, fed me, and housed me, for three long days.  I wasn’t sure how I’d repay her, but I’d think of something after I returned home.

After a plate of beans and bacon and two cups of very strong coffee, Mattie and I were off to town.  Though I hadn’t asked the name of the town or asked what state we were in, I put my life in the hands of the old woman’s granddaughter, but I was on my way home.  I’d take the first stage heading west and be back on the Ponderosa in no time.

Chapter 4

When three men surrounded the wagon, I raised my hands in surrender.  The last thing I needed was more trouble.  I’d already lost my friend, a brand-new stage, and a strongbox carrying five thousand dollars.  When Mattie didn’t raise her hands, I hoped the outlaws would consider that she was just my driver and not take advantage.

My gunbelt and hat didn’t follow me to the old woman’s cabin, and she never told me what happened to my shirt and jacket.  All I had left were my trousers and boots, and I looked a sight.  I’d hoped to embellish my wardrobe when I got to town, but things looked grim, maybe even hopeless.  My left arm was still in a sling.  It would be worthless to me in a fight and without a gun, I didn’t stand a chance of defending myself or the young lady driving the wagon.

“Follow me.”

That’s all that was said before Mattie turned the wagon off the main road and trailed after one of the outlaws.  With guns drawn, the other two followed behind.  I lowered my hands.  I didn’t think they’d shoot unless Mattie or I did something stupid.

If I only knew where we were.  I’d grown familiar with the route to Sacramento, but I didn’t know the surrounding area.  I’d never been off the main road except for cattle drives, and we didn’t wander around and visit the local sights with eight to nine hundred head of beeves to get to market.

The sun was high in the sky when we reached our destination, and that’s when everything fell into place.  My stagecoach was parked outside a rundown cabin that trappers probably vacated over fifty years ago, and I assumed these were the three men who took Jake and me down and with me being the only eyewitness, they weren’t about to let me ride back to Virginia City and run my mouth to the sheriff.

But the real surprise was finding out that the leader of the band of outlaws was sitting next to me on the wagon.  Once we arrived, it was Mattie who gave all the orders.  She was the head honcho, and I was her prisoner.  I’d take orders from her until she put a gun to my head and said adios.

There was a possibility that search parties were sent from both directions, but the cabin and the stage were so buried in the woods that no one would think to take the same trail we took off the main road.  That would be the miracle of all miracles, and I’d never been that lucky.

After being hauled inside the shack by one of the gunmen, he took pleasure in tying my hands behind my back and then dumping me into a wooden chair and looping the rope around the upper rungs.  I wasn’t going anywhere.  He’d done his job well.

I waited for Mattie to show up and start barking orders, but when the gunman finished with me, he headed back outside.  I’d been left alone and not privy to their conversation.  They couldn’t keep me alive.  I was the one person who could mess up their lives and send them to prison for killing Jake.

When I heard metal rims rolling away from the cabin, I couldn’t see what was happening through the one greasy window that only allowed a seated person to see the top of the pines.  It was either the wagon or the coach, but which and why?  Were they going to hide the coach in a more secure location?  We were pretty deep inside a thick forest, and I doubt anyone would find me or the coach this far off the main road.

After waiting hours for someone to return and either untie me or kill me, I had grown hungry and thirsty and with my arms pulled behind my back, my shoulder ached like crazy.  I prayed relief would come soon, but I had begun to lose hope of ever seeing Mattie or her band of outlaws again.

There were no sounds, no movement of any kind.  No horses whinnied.  No birds flitted and sang their merry tunes. I tried to make sense of it all.  Why were they staying outside the cabin?  Were they planning another holdup?  A bank robbery?  What was the next venture to gain illegal funds, and what was to become of me?

Day turned into night and night turned back into day.  No one had walked through the cabin door with rusted hinges and come to my rescue.  Still no whinnies or birdsong.  No voices, man or woman.  I’d been left alone to die in a cabin in the woods.

My father would say that the group of bandits was inhuman, that no one would leave an animal tied up without food or water much less a human being, but that’s exactly what the outlaws did to me.  My throat ached, my stomach growled, and my head lolled toward my chest.  I didn’t have the strength to sit up straight in the rickety old chair and when I shifted my weight, the chair and I toppled sideways and fell to the cabin floor.

Chapter 5

The voices surrounding me weren’t familiar, but I didn’t much care.   In whispered tones, they discussed the stage robbers and the brightly painted stage that Jake and I drove so long ago.  I didn’t add to the conversation.  I remained lying on my side on the dirt floor and wondered if anyone would notice I was there.

“I’m here.” 

I wanted to cry out.  I didn’t understand why they would leave me in such a state of discomfort. 

“Untie me from the damn chair!”

But my words weren’t heard.  My voice remained silent to everyone but me.  Didn’t they know I was dying, that I didn’t stand a chance of recovery while I was tied to an old wooden chair?  What kind of people would stand around and watch a man die?

“I’ll be leaving now.  I’ll stop back tomorrow and check on his progress.”

“Good.  I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank you enough?  Who the hell were these folks?”

After the cabin door closed, only silence remained.  I thought someone had stayed to watch me die, but now I wasn’t sure.  I didn’t hear any movement, and I didn’t hear any voices.  I would die alone and my remains would be disposed of leaving my pa and brothers to wonder what ever happened to the youngest member of the family.  Nothing would be resolved, and they’d always question if they could’ve done more.

When I shifted onto my back and was able to stretch my arms and legs, a weird sense came over me as though I was floating or dreaming of floating.  If I hadn’t been attached to the chair, I might’ve believed all was well in the world and I was free to jump up and walk away from the cabin.  I gave myself a good laugh and then I opened my eyes.

Before I could count to three, I’d pushed myself up on a featherbed that was covered in white linens and a patchwork quilt.   The bedroom had a new coat of whitewash, and the furniture had been recently polished.  The smell of fresh-brewed coffee filled the room and made my stomach rumble with hunger.  As I swung my bare legs over the side, the door opened and my father walked inside carrying two white mugs of coffee.

“When … I mean how?”

Pa smiled as though he had pulled one over on me, which he had.  He knew a heck of a lot more than I did, but the coffee smelled good and I was grateful for small favors.

“How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t?  How’d I get here?”

Pa handed me one of the mugs and pulled a chair up next to the bed.  “You’re in a private home in Placerville.”

“Placerville?”

“That’s right.  After the stage was three hours late, the sheriff headed out with a posse, but you and Jake and the stage were nowhere to be found.”

“Yeah, I know.  An old woman …”

“Old woman?”

I looked down at my hands and tried to make sense of things.  My wrists had been wrapped in white strips, but I could still feel the rough hemp and the rungs of the chair.  I could still taste the dirt I swallowed when I hit the floor.

“That was days ago.  I took a bullet.  She took care of me.”

“She did a good job, Son.  The doctor was here.  He checked the wound.  Said it looks fine.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t know how you found me.”

“The posse rode out a week later and when they spotted a fire, they followed the smoke down to the river and found the remnants of the stage you and Jake took from Sacramento.”

“Jake’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, Son.  He was a good friend.”

“Did they catch the gang?”

“No, but after riding all day, they stopped at a cabin to spend the night, and guess what they found.”

I laughed.  In spite of everything, I laughed.  “I thought I’d die alone, and you’d never know what happened.”

“It was pure luck, Joseph.  The cabin was so far off the main road, I understand why you felt that way, but luck was on our side.”

“It sure was.”

“They figure the outlaws are halfway to Mexico by now.”

“Could be.”

I propped the pillow against the headboard and dug my shoulders against its softness.  I wasn’t quite a hundred percent, but I was on my way.  My father would make sure I healed properly and then he’d take me home.

I’d miss my friend Jake, but I’d always been luckier than most.  We each took a bullet, but I survived and he didn’t.  Just as Pa said.  Luck was on my side.  I’d been patched up and found inside a cabin that was miles from nowhere.  I should’ve been buried alongside my friend.  Instead, I would go home to my family, and in time, I’d put the last few days behind me.

I wanted to believe in my father’s god, but I questioned His reasons for things I didn’t understand.  Had it been fate or providence that I would live to tell the tale of the vacation my father tried to talk me out of?  I’ll always remember the good times Jake and I had riding like the wind over the passes and down the lonely road to the next valley. 

I thought about the old woman.  She saved my life and although I wanted to do something to repay her, perhaps the best thing I could do was keep quiet about her granddaughter.  I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news and staying away from her and the cabin might be the best thing to do.

I was young, and perhaps I was smitten with danger and adventure.  I don’t regret the decision I made.  Bad people exist in the world, and we encountered some of the worst that were ever born.  I’ll miss my friend, and I’ll remember him always, but according to Pa’s God, Jake and I will meet again someday.  I like that thought.

The End

Pat Grubb

2024 Summer Challenge