Page 9 of Wellspring
“That is how you came by your skill with the bow?”Finished dismembering the hog, Heller wiped his knife on a kerchief before replacing it in his belt.“It is most impressive.”
“Yeah, they taught me to hunt and ride and cook and how to live with the land instead of exploiting it,” Cade replied.“What about you?Where’d you learn your skills?”
Heller hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.“Hunting was an expected pastime.Certainly one I preferred to frivolous balls and soirees.”As he paused again, a vision of him in fancy dress flashed through Cade’s mind, and for one impossible second, Cade imagined himself in the scene, joining Heller on the dance floor, but he barely belonged in the world he lived in now.He would never fit in the world Heller had left behind.“In Prussia, my life was constrained by social status and expectations.My marriage was arranged, as I told you, for reasons of status and finance.When my wife died and our son with her….”He drew a breath.“The expectation was that I would wed again, to provide an heir.I would not take part in such a sham a second time.I signed the estate over to a cousin and embarked on a new life, one in which I can make my own way.”
Not many men of Cade’s acquaintance—white men, anyway—would have been as forthright.They would have claimed a great love affair as a reason not to marry again, even if they’d been in Heller’s exact situation, because it would gain them sympathy.That Heller would choose honesty over sympathy only added to his attractiveness in Cade’s eyes, not that Heller needed much help in that regard.
“Social status don’t mean much out here unless you got the money to buy a big tract of land.A cowboy is a cowboy, unless you’re a black man or were raised by Indians.Then people get all twisted up about you, but the Wellspring outfit don’t care about that.They can’t rightly, with Payne in the lead,” Cade said.“Iamsorry about your wife and son, though.I know what Nadua, my adoptive mother, went through when my brother Pahayoko died.Even if it was an arranged marriage, it must have been hard to lose them.”
He didn’t mention that Pahayoko’s death had been the trigger that eventually led Cade to leave the tribe.That was a story best saved for another time.
“Enough to make me realize how purposeless was my life.Here I will earn through my own efforts what I need.”Heller flipped the pork belly and settled back.“Your story is of far more interest than mine.How long were you among the Comanche?”
Cade wasn’t sure his life was all that interesting, but he let it go for now.He’d have more time to ask Heller questions.“Fifteen years,” Cade said.Fifteen wonderful years.“It’s been another ten since I left, and I still miss them every day.”He might have found something like a new family at Wellspring, but it didn’t keep him from missing Nadua and the braves who had been brothers to him.He’d made a point after he left the tribe to make sure his remaining brother knew where to find him, even if he didn’t always know where to find them.
Heller held his gaze long enough to make Cade wonder what he saw in his expression.“You give me hope that I may weather my changes as well as you have surmounted yours.”
Cade summoned a smile that didn’t feel too forced.“You’ve done pretty damn well so far.You just have to remember that where you are don’t change who you are.”
And that was as philosophical as he was willing to get.“Think that roast is done yet?”
Chapter Six
ERICK PONDEREDWebster’s words as they continued their journey westward.Time would acclimate him to his new surroundings, he knew.The question was whether he knew any longer who he was.He had prided himself in doing the best for his estate and the tenants and servants he held responsibility for.While being responsible for no one but himself had seemed appealing, he was honest enough to admit that at present he was dependent on Webster, and it left him unsettled.Of what value was his ability to manage an estate, to keep books, to blend in to society, in this new life?He could only hope that once they reached their destination, he would have absorbed enough skills from observing Webster to earn a place for himself.
Not for the first time, Erick marveled at his good fortune at falling in with Webster.The cowboy was everything that appealed to Erick—handsome, strongly built, capable, and kind enough to share his skills and experience with a stranger.Surely most men wouldn’t spend time showing him how to form a lasso and practice roping tree stumps with it.At times Erick thought he saw a hint of returned interest from Webster, but that could just be his reading what he wished to see into Webster’s innate friendliness.If he were to give in to the fantasy of tangling his fingers in Webster’s long hair and pulling him close, he could find himself abandoned far from anywhere or, worse, staring down the barrel of Webster’s gun.
A sudden scream tore Erick from his thoughts.Zephyr bucked beneath him, knocking Erick forward in the saddle.He tightened the reins automatically, but that only made Zephyr rear up instead.Erick leaned forward, gripping hard with his thighs, but the Western saddle wasn’t made that way, and the change in position pulled Erick’s boots from the stirrups.A second buck shook him loose from the saddle completely and he went flying through the air to land on the dusty ground with a hard thump.
Feeling foolish—he hadn’t been thrown from a horse since he was a green youth—he rolled to his side to push up onto his elbow when he found himself face-to-face with a coiled snake at least as thick as his arm.The snake reared up, its forked tongue flickering out and a rattle sounding as it shook its tail.Webster had warned him of venomous snakes, but he’d thought to confront them in the underbrush, not the middle of a road.He reached slowly for the pistol at his belt, but the snake swayed ominously and he froze.
At the angle he lay on the ground, he had little hope of drawing, aiming, and firing faster than the snake could strike, and if it bit his face, he would surely die from it.He could only hope if he stayed motionless, the snake would decide he was no threat and slither off.The constant rattle suggested the likelihood of that was indeed small.
Crack!
The report of a pistol rent the air and the snake’s head exploded, surely no more than an inch from his face, showering Erick in blood and gore.Erick collapsed onto his back, trying to slow his pulse and breathing.Only now that the danger was past did the full impact of his peril grip him, and he had to breathe deeply through ribs bruised by his fall to stop from shaking.Webster had surely saved his life.
Webster knelt beside him, breathing almost as heavily as Erick was, and Erick accepted his hand to help him to his feet.Fighting the urge to throw himself into Webster’s strong arms, a lifetime of training forced him to rein in his racing emotions.“Again, a most impressive shot,” he managed before pulling out his kerchief to wipe his face.
“I couldn’t let the damn thing kill you.”Webster glanced down and rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with the praise.It was a good thing he hadn’t said everything he wanted to, Erick thought, because he would never wish to make Webster uncomfortable.But it also made him determined to look for more instances to let him know how much Erick admired his skills.Surely there could be no harm in that.“Sorry about the mess.An arrow wouldn’t have splattered like that, but I couldn’t reach my bow in time.We’ll find a stream or a pond or somewhere and make camp early tonight so you can wash up properly.And maybe wash your jacket and shirt too.I’m afraid the blood got everywhere.”
Erick couldn’t hold back a chuckle.“You saved my life—a little blood is a small consequence.It is I who should apologize to you for letting my attention lapse.I do little to recommend myself as a horse trainer, I fear.”
“Everyone gets thrown sometimes, and anyone who says otherwise either hasn’t ridden a horse or is lying through his teeth,” Webster replied.“Although getting distracted out here probably ain’t the best idea.And you’d have done the same for me if the situation had been reversed.”
“I would certainly try, though I could not have made the shot you did.”Webster flushed again, but there was no denying his skill, however thrilling Erick found it.“Let us continue on.I find the prospect of cleaning myself appealing.”
Webster stooped to pick up the snake carcass and toss it into the wagon.“Can’t let this go to waste—rattlesnake makes good eating.”
In his panic over the snake, Zephyr had bolted down the road, Erick saw now.“Come on,” Cade said.“Climb up and we’ll get him as we drive by.No use chasing him on foot.”
Erick climbed onto the seat of the wagon, keenly aware of the heat of Cade’s body next to him.Fortunately Zephyr didn’t seem inclined to keep running once he was safely away from the snake, and they caught up to him within a few minutes.He mounted Zephyr and guided him to keep step with the draft horses.After his scare, he preferred to stay close for now.
They didn’t talk as they continued, but the silence was easy between them.He didn’t know what Webster was thinking, but Erick kept reliving the moment after Webster’s incredible shot, when the cowboy sank to the ground beside him, nearly as shaken as Erick himself.What would have happened if he’d turned and kissed Webster as his emotions had screamed at him to do?Probably nothing good, especially when his face was covered with snake gore, his rational side insisted.Webster hadn’t done anything he wouldn’t have done for anyone.Erick needed to keep reminding himself of that.
That afternoon—around four if Erick could judge the time from the height of the sun—they came across a shallow river.“Let’s make camp here,” Webster said.“You can wash up and I’ll get a fire started for dinner.”
Erick unsaddled Zephyr and left him to graze before walking to the river.He kept an eye out for any more snakes as he unbuttoned his shirt—he would not risk losing Webster’s opinion any more than he already had—but the grass gave way to a bare, rocky bank.He knelt to gauge the water’s temperature, far warmer than a Prussian river would be at this time of year.For a moment he debated stripping completely.He would give much to feel fully clean, but the channel didn’t look deep enough to submerge even to his waist.He pulled off his boots—they were too new to ruin the leather—and hung his hat from an overhanging branch.Wading into the water, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, opened the top several buttons of his union suit, and bent to splash the cool water over his face and chest.Even that much was refreshing.
