Episode Three
The sound of sleet diminished and then stopped. Large, soft snowflakes replaced the stinging ice. The cowboy took another piece of cloth and poured the spring water over it. He cleaned around the wound, and then, using the shirt again, he tore a long strip off. He used the strip to bind the cloth holding back the blood.
His fingers were cold and wet; melting sleet and snow dripped from his hair down his face and onto Chad’s body. Once he finished the bandage, he covered Chad up the best he could using the wool scarf to cover his neck and head. He then put more wood on the fire. He made a quick trip to the spring and washed his hands and arms. The air was very cold, but the water from the spring was a bit warmer.
The cowboy retrieved Chad’s bedding and lay it beside the fire and at Chad’s feet. The tarp covering Chad was steadily disappearing under the blanket of soft snow. The bedding was quickly arranged, and the cowboy lay down, pulling Chad’s oilskin slicker over his own body, satisfied he had done his best; now, the snow would cover them both and provide some insulation against the increasingly cold air.
Nancy
When Nancy returned home at the end of her workday, she felt the emptiness of the house as soon as she crossed the threshold. The house was small, but it suddenly took on a larger and emptier look to her. She went to the sink in the little area designated as the kitchen and filled the tea kettle with water. She wasn’t hungry or thirsty, but she thought some hot tea would make her feel better. The house was cooler than when she had left that morning, so she put enough wood in the stove to heat the water and dispel the chill she felt. Chad had not returned, and she wondered if it was turning cold where he was.
Their trip from Cumberland, Maryland, had taken many days. She had no idea that Fort Pierre was so far away from Maryland. The truth was, she had never heard of Fort Pierre and had only vaguely known about the existence of the Dakota Territory. The trip had been exhausting, but she was so excited to be married to Chad that every day and night on the train and then the boat had seemed too short. This was the first time he had left their little house in the face of danger. The reality of her situation hit her head-on.
She had lived alone for a long time before Chad brought her to Fort Pierre, but this was like starting life over. To be honest, she had not given enough thought to how different life would be married to a U.S. Marshal. She had to think about it now. She was alone again and a long way from friends and family, no matter how distantly related they were. What if Chad didn’t come back?
She shook her head and put the kettle on the hot surface of the stove. I can’t think like that. Of course he will come back. God couldn’t be that mean to her, could He? It was then that the premonition hit her. Something was wrong. She could feel it somewhere deep inside. Chad was in pain, and it was as if she could feel it, too. Oh, no, dear God. Please, I can’t lose a second true love. I can’t lose this good man; I’m not that strong.
The tea helped, but nothing could calm her completely. She went through her evening chores in a near fog, the scary feeling following her from task to task. She tried to read but couldn’t. She tried to sew on a new dress she was making for work, but concentration proved impossible. Every sound coming from the street running by their house seemed magnified. The sound of a horse made her jump. Each time, there was the hope that it was Chad. Each time, there was the disappointment of finding out it wasn’t him.
Before going to bed, Nancy decided to mark the calendar as a way to express her feelings. “I share your pain.” She reasoned it would help her keep track of time that Chad was gone, starting with day one.
The dread followed her to bed, and she lay there staring at the ceiling, alternately crying and praying. Shadows on the wall formed shapes that moved her in and out of reality. When she did fall asleep, the dread chased her in dreams, causing her to cry out. She awoke at sunrise, a sense of nausea coming over her.
The Spring
The snowfall ended sometime just before sunrise. Though it was the custom of the two men who lay underneath the white covering to rise just before the sun, neither moved nor made a sound. The sun, as usual, rose silently, spreading its light and warmth across the grassland, chasing the darkness and causing the snow to lose its grip on the trees around the spring. The snow softened and dripped to the ground as the sun touched the limbs. The horses shook the snow off their backs and stomped their feet to get their blood flowing. The sudden movement of the horses frightened a small flock of crows in the cottonwoods, and they left their perch, filling the rather large grove of trees with a noisy racket.
Here and there, the nocturnal wildlife made their way to den, lair, and various holes. Hopefully, their bellies were full and their homes warm. At the same time, the daylight creatures made early appearances, clearly believing that the early bird or animal gets the first choice of the available meals.
The cowboy sat up, his eyes adjusting to the light faster than his brain adjusted to the situation. Memory came back in a rush. He threw the waterproof covering and bedroll off, scattering the fallen snow, and then got to his feet. He picked up his boots and looked at the other bedroll. It was quiet and still; a dark cloud moved down the cowboy’s face.
He pulled his boots on and stepped to the tarp’s edge covering the lawman. He bent down, took a deep breath, and peeled the tarp back, again scattering snow. He touched the sleeping man’s forehead and found it warm. Not hot from a fever or cold from death, but warm. Perhaps warmer than normal, but not alarmingly. The frown gave way to a sigh of relief and a smile.
The cowboy cleared his fire pit and swept the snow off the wood he had piled up. He started another fire from the mostly dry wood that had been saved. It would be enough to make coffee, if nothing more. As he worked on getting the morning started, he thought about the situation he found himself in and his own plans.
My guess is that the marshal won’t be able to ride today. The question then is; do I leave him here alone or stay another day with him? If I stay, it will give those two murderers an even larger head start. If I pursue them, this lawman may die. Who is this Lance he talked about, and how does he figure into the picture? If I stay, I’ve got to find us something to eat. I don’t have enough for two, and he has nothing that I can see. What would Momma say? He heard her voice as if she was standing next to him, “Luke, you know what to do. Forget your vengeance and do the right thing.”
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