CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LONNIE LOOKED AS if he’d grown a foot. He was deeply tanned and bathed in sweat, mending one of Nester Callaway’s fences when they arrived. When he saw the horses approaching, he immediately dropped his hammer and began running toward the cabin. The Callaways were already on the front porch, shading their eyes against the noon sun in an effort to see who was coming.
It was Cora Callaway who first recognized Jonesy and began clapping her hands. “They’re back,” she told her husband. Then she yelled out to the boy running from the field, “Lonnie, honey, they’re back.” She was hugging Clay before he could get completely down from his horse.
Nester, more frail-looking than he’d been the last time they’d seen him, was smiling. “Seems it’s been a coon’s age since you was last here. Welcome back.”
The most excited was Lonnie. He didn’t know whom to reach out to first. Finally, Jonesy solved his problem by slapping him on the shoulder, then wrapping an arm around him. “Good to see you, boy,” he said. “Looks like they’ve been feeding you extra helpings while we’ve been gone.”
Pate stepped back so Clay could say hello. “We missed you,” he said, putting his hands to Lonnie’s face. Then he turned to Nester and Cora. “We missed all of you.”
Madge viewed the reunion from horseback until Clay helped her down and introduced her. “This lady,” he said, “is going home with me. We’re gonna get married once we get there.”
Cora wiped tears from her eyes with the corner of her apron. “Oh, my, isn’t that the most wonderful news?” she said, then reached out to hug Madge. “Don’t mind me. I cry at just about everything.”
“I’ve heard so much about you folks, I feel I already know you,” Madge said as she shook Nester’s hand. Then she turned to Lonnie. “Especially you,” she said.
Lonnie smiled bashfully and took the reins from her. “Go on inside and cool off,” he said. “I’ll see to the horses.”
As they walked toward the cabin, Madge whispered to Clay and Jonesy, “He’s a fine-looking young man. I see now why you were so anxious to get here.”
Cora had just taken an apple pie from the oven, and Madge helped her prepare plates for everyone. Nester urged Clay and Jonesy to take a seat at the kitchen table.
“Before the boy gets in here, I want to do some bragging on him,” Callaway said. “I’ve never seen a harder worker in my life. This place looks better than it ever has. Holes in the roof of the barn have been patched, fences repaired. Ain’t no weeds in the garden, and he does the milking and a right smart of plowing without even being asked. Sometimes even helps with the cooking. He doesn’t know when to quit.” The halting manner of his speech and the struggle for breath made it obvious that Nester’s health had seriously declined. “Don’t know what we’d have done without him. My wife calls him a godsend.”
“The hard work will soon be over,” Cora said as she placed pie and cups of coffee on the table. “We’ve reached a decision to sell the place and move into town, where Nester can be closer to the doctor . . . and I can be less worried and nearer church services.”
Her husband explained that a neighbor had offered him a fair price for his livestock, “which you folks kindly rescued for us,” and the banker in town was searching for a buyer for the property. “He came out and looked it over a while back and seemed impressed with the upkeep. He says more and more folks are moving out this way, looking for land to buy.”
“I guess you’re gonna miss it,” Pate said.
Nester began coughing, then took a sip of coffee. “Not as much as you might expect,” he said. “When folks get up in years, they get kinda worn-out, and their attitudes change. The notion of sleeping late and napping on the porch in the afternoons doesn’t sound all bad.”
As he spoke, Lonnie entered, still smiling. He was anxious to hear about the trip his friends had made. “Were you able to get done what you wanted?”
“Yes,” Clay said, “though it took a little longer than we’d expected.” He offered no details, which disappointed Lonnie. But instead of asking more questions, he ate his pie.
They sat, enjoying one another’s company long after the plates were empty and the coffeepot had been drained. After Madge helped Cora clear the table, she approached Lonnie. “If you’re not too tired from your fence mending, I’d like to take a tour of the place,” she said. “I understand you’ve done considerable hard work.”
Lonnie was quickly on his feet, putting on his hat.
Once they were out the door, Jonesy cleared his throat and began outlining his plan.
“Since we were last here, I’ve given thought to what might lie ahead for Lonnie,” he said, “and the best idea I’ve come up with is for him to come live with me and my wife. We’d take good care of him—just like you folks have—and see that he gets proper schooling. My wife was once a schoolteacher and places high value on education. Though you’d never believe it from being around me, so do I. We ain’t rich by no means, but we can take care of any needs he’ll have.
“My wife—her name’s Patricia—loves young’uns, and I know she would be proud to have Lonnie as part of our family. We’ve never been able to have children of our own, which is one of her great sorrows.”
Clay entered the conversation. “We’re neighbors, me and Jonesy. Our places are just a few miles apart, so it would really be like Lonnie having two homes if he’s of a mind,” he said. “I think highly of the boy as well and would like having him around. He’d even be welcome to come live with me and Madge. We’ve discussed it, and she has no objections.”
“Praise the Lord,” Cora said. “How I’ve been praying for this. We’ve come to love Lonnie like our own, but there’s going to soon come a time when we can’t properly care for him. What’s best for him is what we want, even if it means having an ache in our hearts from missing him.”
“I bet we could arrange an occasional visit,” Pate said.
Cora came around the table and hugged him, then Clay. “I doubt convincing him will be difficult,” she said.
Madge could tell the conversation had gone well when she returned to the cabin. “Lonnie’s seeing to chores in the barn,” she said to Jonesy. “I told him you would be there shortly to discuss something with him.”
Pate, usually outgoing and confident, suddenly appeared nervous. “What if he doesn’t like the idea?”
Madge laughed. “He will.”
“You want to come with me?”
“Nope,” said Clay. “This should be a private matter, just between you and the boy.”
Lonnie was stacking cedar posts when Jonesy entered the barn.
“The Callaways tell me you been behaving yourself and earning your keep,” Pate said.
“They’ve been mighty nice, though I worry about Mr. Callaway’s health. He’s not doing too good.”
“I guess they’ve talked with you about their plans for moving into town.”
“I guess it’s the smart thing to do,” Lonnie said. “They’ve told me I’m welcome to come with them, but there’s been no mention of what I might do about Maizy.”
Jonesy had seen Lonnie’s mare grazing in the pasture as they’d arrived. Her coat was smooth and shiny, bringing to mind the time they’d found her after the flood, covered in mud and river debris. She was a beautiful horse, and Jonesy could understand the youngster’s attachment to her.
“I got a proposition that might work for both you and Maizy,” he said. “Take a seat and hear me out.”
They sat together on a pile of hay as Pate explained his hope that Lonnie would consider becoming part of his family. He’d been rehearsing the speech since they’d left Tascosa. He talked about his wife, described the ranch, and noted how close Lonnie would be to Clay’s farm. Aberdene wasn’t far away, close enough for him to ride Maizy in and resume his schooling and meet others his own age. In the summers there was a town baseball team he might even like to join. If Lonnie wanted to learn the cattle business, he’d gladly be his teacher. If he was more inclined to be a farmer, Mr. Breckenridge could provide pointers.
Jonesy tried not to make things sound too idyllic. “I ain’t promising it’ll be perfect. My wife and me can’t no more replace your ma and pa than the Callaways have. But we can give you a home that’s permanent and has a lot of love in it if you’re of a mind to accept it.”
Lonnie was silent for a moment as he rose and walked to the doorway of the barn. He looked toward the cabin for some time. “I wish there was more I could do to pay back the Callaways for all they’ve done for me. They’ve given me a place to live and fed me. Treated me good. She’s even sewed me clothes.”
“I think you’ve paid them back more than you know. Folks get old, and it’s nice having somebody young around. You being here has brought more joy to their lives than you can ever know.”
“He’s gonna die soon, you know,” Lonnie said. “It ain’t just Mr. Callaway’s coughing and trouble breathing. You can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.”
“And you’ll be one of the good memories he takes with him.”
Lonnie turned and smiled. It was his answer.
“Let’s go up to the house and tell them what you’ve decided,” Jonesy said.
Cora Callaway was watching through the window and saw them walking from the barn, arm in arm. They looked happy.
“Oh, my stars,” she said, “we’re going to have to have us a special dinner tonight to celebrate.” As expected, she again had tears in her eyes.
IN TASCOSA, ELI Rayburn had been in a foul mood for days. He’d had no idea how much he would miss the company of Clay Breckenridge and Jonesy Pate. And Madge. A couple of times a day, he would walk down to the mercantile to say hello to Jennie and find she was also in the doldrums.
“At the rate things are happening,” he told her, “this place will soon be a ghost town, which, I suppose, won’t set too many folks to crying.”
He was on the way back to the livery when he saw two horses out front. Neither had a saddle. Their bridles were poorly fashioned from rope.
He was stunned when he walked in to see Ben Baggett and another man standing there. Both were dirty and looked exhausted. “Thought maybe you were closed for business since nobody was around,” Baggett said.
“Something I can do for you?”
“We’re in the need of two saddles, all the riggings, and blankets. I have to ride one more mile bareback, I’m liable to shoot the horse and just leave him lie.”
Rayburn was at a loss for words. He looked at Baggett as if he was seeing a ghost. Same with the man standing next to him. He was familiar to Eli, but Eli couldn’t put a name to the face.
Baggett’s raspy voice jolted him back to attention. “Saddles? You got any?”
“I’ve got a couple stored in a shed out back. Let me go get them.” Rayburn didn’t tell him that one had come off the horse Paul Price had recently brought in—the one Top Wilson had left down in the gulley.
“They’ll do,” Baggett said, barely looking at them. “We’re going to walk down to the laundry and see about getting ourselves cleaned up and more presentable. Then we’ll visit the mercantile to see about new clothes and provisions.”
“If you don’t see Paul soon as you arrive at the laundry, just give a loud holler,” Rayburn said. “He’s sometimes down in the woods, still on the lookout for Indians.”
Baggett showed little interest in the remark. “While we’re gone,” he said, “maybe you could feed our horses and give ’em a good brushing. I’ll pay when we get back. Got any whiskey?”
“Might have a sip or two,” Eli said.
“I’ll buy that as well,” Baggett said.
Rayburn nodded. As they walked away, he called out, “Where you gonna be heading?”
Baggett turned and gave him a hard look. “As far away from Palo Duro Canyon as we can get,” he said.