Chapter 10

 

Caleb opened his eyes to sunshine warming the room. It had been four days since someone shot him. His side still hurt, but it would heal if he just took it easy another couple of days. Maggie had done a good job. And he had enjoyed having her sit in here and talk with him at night. Especially on the porch last night. For the first time in a long while, he had spoken aloud about Amanda. His mother had always said that getting things out in the open was the cure for whatever ailed a person.

Until this chance meeting with her, he had, for too many years, ignored the fact that a man needed the company of a woman. But Maggie Price had stirred that want in him again. If only it was possible she felt the same, Lord. But there was no need to dwell on those feelings. Maggie was a born southerner. The pain of the war was still embedded deep in her heart. She would never forgive him for his Union ties.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” he said, surprised that his voice was beginning to recover.

Reba pushed open the door, carrying his breakfast. “I thought it was about time you woke up,” she beamed, placing the tray on the table and pulling it around closer to the bed.

“It looks wonderful,” Caleb smiled, attempting to push himself up in bed. A spasm of pain shot through him, but after a moment it passed, and he ignored the slight twinge that remained. “I should have been up earlier and eaten in the kitchen.”

“Don’t be silly. You needed the rest. Here, let me help you.”

Reba was a small woman, but very capable, he thought, as she helped pull him into a sitting position. Maggie had told him that she was devoted to caring for others. And he could plainly see the compassion in her face.

“Thank you,” he managed through his gritted teeth. In another minute, the pain would slow and he would relax. Memories of his old bullet wound had returned, and they weren’t as rosy a picture as he’d painted of them these past ten years. He still had a ways to go before he would be feeling his old self. And being up so long yesterday probably contributed to the soreness.

“There now,” she said, tucking a large white cloth in the front of his shirt. “And please call me Reba.”

“Then you better make sure you call me Caleb,” he teased.

“Do you need anything else, any help?” Reba offered, pausing before she went out the door.

He grinned. “I guess I could use some company.” Maybe Reba would give him a little bit more information than Maggie. “And my clothes. I think it’s about time I got up and around all day.”

“A little talking sounds nice to me. I’ll just go get my own cup. Nothing better than having a nice chat over tea or coffee. And you’ll be up soon enough. I don’t want you tearing that wound open again. I‘m afraid you overdid it yesterday.”

 

 

***

 

 

Caleb waited until she was comfortable in her chair and had filled him in on how she thought he was doing. Their conversations had been nice and polite. But today, he planned to get some information. Get to know Maggie and Reba better.

He stirred cream into his coffee until it was a rich, caramel color. “So tell me about how you and Maggie happened to come to Texas. She didn’t really tell me much.”

Reba took another sip of her coffee. “We came in ‘66. Not long after the war was over. Ian had married Maggie and we were all looking to move along. Our area was too ravaged. We knew it would take years to get it back in order.” She paused. “And the government had sent all those people down there, telling us what to do.” Her eyes met his. “We knew we had to leave.”

Caleb frowned and nodded. Gunfire, bloody faces, the city lit by flames in the darkness. Sometimes he woke from a bad dream to smell the stench of Atlanta still in his nostrils. The city had evaporated in the blaze set by the Union army. His ears still heard the cries of people as they ran to escape, his skin still felt the heat of the inferno.

He cleared his throat and hid away the memory. “So you found Chance and thought it was the perfect place?” His curiosity was hankering to know more, but none of it was any of his business. Still, he felt drawn to this southern woman and her granddaughter.

Reba smiled and set her cup on the table. “Ian always said that Chance found us,” she laughed. “We had another place in mind, but we settled here, once we saw the land.”

Caleb nodded and sopped his second biscuit in the pool of honey on the plate. “It looked to be good farming land, what I saw of it, when I was headed this way. I’ve been up in Kansas for a few years, so all these hills and trees are a wonder to me,” he smiled as he took a bite.

“Is Kansas where you are from? I was thinking Maggie said Illinois,” Reba said, beginning to rock her chair in time to the piano music that had started up in the saloon.

“I was raised in Illinois. But after the war, I. . .” he hesitated, “I went home and married the girl that had waited for me. We were happy for a couple of years, then she. . .well she caught a bad fever and died. So, I joined the army for the next three years. After that I did a little deputy work up in Kansas. The last few years, I’ve been punching cows for a big ranch up near Kansas City.”

Reba, a tender expression on her face, shook her head. “I’m so sorry about your wife. Maggie told me. Life is hard so much of the time.” She offered a smile. “And I guess the army wasn’t for you?”

He took his last bite of egg and put the fork on the plate. “It’s not much of a life for anybody, that I can see. Mostly nothing but hard work and danger. In the war, you had to dodge bullets. Out there, you’re dodging bullets and arrows. I guess I fooled myself that it would fill the void Amanda’s death left inside. I was wrong.” He shrugged. “Too young, or foolish to realize that you can’t out run your sorrow.”

Reba nodded and took another sip from her cup. She turned her eyes to the window and seemed to lose herself in private thought for a moment. “I reckon most folks on both sides have been a little bit lost since the war.”

Caleb remained silent, watching her. She was young for a grandmother, or at least it seemed so to him. Surely the war had been hard on her. Maggie had spoken of the two sons she lost. One at Shiloh. The doctor, he thought. He cleared his throat. “Is Maggie around? I’d like to ask her something.” If he talked much more to Reba, the woman would have his entire life history out in the open. That’s what he got for thinking he was going to get information out of her, he chuckled to himself.

Reba jerked herself back to the present. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. She left a while ago. Said something about looking for your rifle.”

Caleb almost choked on his last swallow of coffee. He slung the cup to the table. “Get my clothes for me, Reba!” What had possessed the woman to go back to the shooting site? Whoever had been out there earlier in the week hadn’t been looking for him. And they were just back of Maggie’s cabin.

Reba stood, shaking her head. “Oh, no, Caleb! You’re not able to ride, just y–”

“Now!” he said giving her his best I’m-in-command voice. “Maggie might be in danger.”

Reba’s face paled. “I’ll get them.”

He eased his legs over the side of the bed. Pain pierced his side and he clenched his jaw. He’d felt worse. If he could get on his horse, he would manage.