The remainder of the trip started off in stone, cold silence. It was thick and dark and bitter in its determination. Neither man wanted to make the first move. Darby sat stiffly in a hostile gesture trying to keep from having any contact with the man next to him. Wolf leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees and a deep frown upon his brow. He was feeling the ramifications of his hasty decision in bringing Darby with him. I should have just let the kid go to Laramie. Maybe that's the kind of lesson he really needs, Wolf thought. Then he looked over at the youth beside him and for a moment, catching him unawares, he saw the confusion and hurt and regrets that one could note in the quivering lips, the shielded eyes, and the tight features. The kid was making too much effort at being hostile, it was not in his nature.
Wolf remembered the smiling pride the kid showed when Wolf complimented the fish dinner and the joy that engulfed him when he caught their meal. No, Wolf thought, this is not a hardened criminal. A lost, scared kid who needs some guidance and a firm hand. He is not Falcon.
"Son of a bitch!" Darby let out the expletive before he could catch himself. He practically stood up on the wagon pointing excitedly to a herd of wild horses racing against the setting sun off in the distance. Wolf had to agree the sight was breathtaking. So this was what Jim Ellison did. It made Wolf wonder if perhaps this was a line of work he could handle as well. He never was too fond of the idea of cattle ranching.
Just then they hit a bump and Darby bounced back down hard against Wolf. Wolf put out a protective arm to keep the kid seated. Darby, forgetting himself, laughed, "Man oh man, was that something! I want one of those. I'm going to get one, too." The last was added with a determination that bordered on a man's mindset and a young boy's fanciful anticipation. Wolf turned away to hide the smile. The kid can't stay mad long, because he has such a short attention span. Maybe that's a good thing.
"It's free range. If you want one of those horses there's nothing stopping you. You just best know what you're doing. Have you ever roped before?"
"Of course, I can rope. What's to using a rope," Darby said with conviction. "I've practiced on fence posts, when I had my rope, but I needed it to fix some things and I never found a new one."
"Fence posts don't move, boy. I'll show you if you want."
"I told you I know how," Darby said angrily.
"Okay, then you know how." Wolf then resumed his position, once again leaning forward and watching the horses move slowly along.
"Well, I guess.....I mean, I...yes, please, I would like for you to show me."
Wolf turned to look at the eager face next to him, now somewhat crestfallen and wary. He could gauge the effort Darby had put forth in that simple white flag gesture, by the blush on his cheeks.
Darby looked back into the questioning blue eyes, then dropped his own. "If you still want to," he added quietly, the blush deepening in a hot flash of embarrassment.
"Fine. It'll come in handy for some of the chores. The next few weeks we need to fix the place up. It's a nice ranch, a fair share of good buildings, but they still need repair. The corrals all need to be re-fenced and the barn needs some roof work. In about one month's time, we'll be making our last trip into Happenstance before winter. We'll pick up some stock then and I'm having some things brought up from Arizona along with some livestock and horses. We need everything ready by then."
"You rich or something?" Darby asked.
"Or something," Wolf laughed, "definitely not rich."
As the wagon pulled onto the small homestead, the tall man gently eased the horses by the barn. The blond-haired man next to him was sleeping soundly against his left shoulder, having drifted off an hour ago, fighting it as long as he could. Wolf had allowed him to drop his head on his shoulder when the boy almost fell off the wagon the second time.
"Darby!" Wolf yelled as he reached out to grab the flailing arm as the lurch forward abruptly woke him.
"Darn it, boy, do you want to break your fool neck," Wolf admonished as he pulled the weary figure back on the seat. "Put your head against my shoulder. I can't have you falling off," he said as he pulled the boy tightly against him. Darby tried to pull away, but the vice-like band around his shoulders secured him against the broad chest. When Wolf felt him acquiesce, he pushed him away long enough to get his shoulder back in place. Darby then continued to lean in and within minutes was once again sound asleep.
Wolf paused a moment on the seat of the wagon to appraise his surroundings. Home, he thought, everything I ever dreamed of those long nights on the trail. He tried to imagine it when it would be fixed up. In the lambent light of the moon, he could make out the outbuildings and the house a few yards away. Once Cloud Walker arrived with the stock and his possessions from Arizona, Wolf could start making the place look lived-in. He still wasn't sure what he would make of the ranch, whether cattle or horses would be his form of income, but right now he had enough cash to see him through for a year. Time to let things just run their course for awhile.
"Darby," Wolf said gently, "Darby, come on, there's work to be done. We need to tend to the horses and get the wagon unloaded." He paused to watch the boy sit up straight, yawn, and stretch. There was a confused look on his face as he quickly looked around at his surroundings, then he seemed to register his location and he turned to look at Wolf.
"This your place?"
"Yep, come on, the sooner we get to work, the sooner we can get to sleep. With both of us, it shouldn't take us long." Wolf, then, jumped off the wagon and started unhitching the horses, making sure he tended to their needs first. "Start taking those sacks, the flour, rice, and beans, canned goods, over to the root cellar near the side of the house. There's a door and some stairs down under. For now, just get them down there, tomorrow I can show you where everything should be stocked neatly on shelves. Then take the tools and such and stack them in the barn in the corner behind the door."
Darby started doing what Wolf told him. He picked up the first sack of flour and almost fell backwards as he lifted it off the wagon onto his shoulder. Wolf saw him sway and turned quickly away, not wanting to embarrass the boy. We need to fatten you up and put some muscles on you, Wolf thought to himself as he led the horses into the barn.
When Darby opened the root cellar door, he could just barely make out the steps leading into the darkness, enough moon glow casting it's light upon the open doorway. He put the sack down and pulled it slowly down the stairs so as not to break the casing. He repeated this effort with the remaining surplus. Then he started on the hardware filling the corner of the barn in half an hour. He was bone-weary when he finished. His personal items remained untouched near the wagon seat. He paused a few moments to contemplate his position. Then he reached in and took the bedroll and all the new packages of clothing and personal items, and started for the barn.
"Hold it, where are you going with those things?" Wolf asked him as he started unloading some personal packages of his own.
"To the barn," Darby mumbled.
"No, take those things in the house."
Darby stood there stunned for a moment. He had never been allowed to sleep in a house. Even when making his journey on foot from San Francisco, the odd jobs he picked up for a few weeks here and there, he always slept in the barn or shed. He just assumed as an indentured servant, as he saw himself, he would sleep in the barn. Wolf waited for him to move and when he saw the hesitation he grabbed a few of Darby's bundles himself and said, "Come on, I'll get you settled in."
Wolf entered the cabin and dropped the bundles near the door. He walked over to the kitchen table to the left and lit a lantern on the table. The cabin immediately came to life with a warm glow. Darby's eyes adjusted to the light and he looked around. Off to the left was a small kitchen with table, water pump and sink, boxes of staples and cupboards with old worn cloth coverings of faded blue gingham, a wooden table and 2 chairs across from the wood-burning stove. Straight ahead and off in a little alcove was a large brass bed that looked awfully inviting to the tired young man at this point. To the right was a stone fireplace with a rocking chair that looked like it had been repaired recently and a table on a square, multi-colored Indian rug. Off to the right side of the fireplace was a small doorway that led into another small alcove with rings over the door, waiting for curtains to be hung. The room from this angle looked small and could have been a bedroom for any kids the previous owners had.
"Put your stuff in the corner there near the bed. I'm short on furniture right now, but once my things come up from Arizona we'll have drawers and chests to store your things in." Darby went into the small alcove and put his bags down at the foot of the bed in the corner of the small enclosure.
"Where am I going to sleep?" Darby asked hesitantly.
"For now, with me."
"That ain't necessary. I can sleep in the barn." Darby said as he started to lift the bundles.
"Put those down, you're sleeping with me," the harsh command made him stop.
"I ain't sleeping in the same bed with you," Darby stated his position emphatically.
"You'll do as I say," Wolf countered authoritatively.
"Now, do you want some dinner before we hit the sack?"
Wolf watched the boy still standing there gnawing on the problem at hand, trying to find an alternate solution when his demands weren't being met. Wolf decided to distract him and see if his initial assumptions were correct, that the boy could be sidetracked from any arguments with a little maneuvering in another direction. "I don't know about you, but I could eat something. I've got some of that bread left from the hotel and it won't take me long to get some beans warmed. Tomorrow we can have a proper dinner." With that, Wolf busied himself with preparing the meal and Darby, realizing the battle of wills had already been lost---he was too darn hungry and tired to fight---started unpacking his new nightshirt and warily eyed the bed that didn't look quite so big right now.
Darby woke to the smells of fresh coffee and bacon frying. He luxuriated in the smells and the warm memories they brought back. The synesthesia of smell brought music to his ears as he could almost hear the ladies singing as they prepared the morning meal. He stretched and yawned and snuggled deeper within the blankets.
Then he remembered where he was and he slowly opened his eyes to watch Wolf working in the kitchen. He used the time to study the tall man unobserved. The man moved easily and gracefully in his preparations and Darby remembered how quickly---in what smooth motion---he had disarmed him when he flashed the small knife at him in the cave. The man moved like a cat sometimes. No wonder Darby ever heard him when he hid in the back of the darkened cave.
Wolf set two plates on the table and with his back to Darby he said, "Better get up, boy. Breakfast's ready."
Seeing Wolf start to dish the eggs out on the plates, Darby got up and crawled to the edge of the bed. Standing up he subconsciously pulled his nightshirt down over his bare flanks, blushing at the memory of the night before when his argument was cut short by one hard swat.
Darby had eaten the bread and beans once again for dinner, too tired to care about the same old fair. When he was finished, Wolf told him to get in bed nearest the wall.
"Get to bed, Darby, before you fall over."
"I'll sleep on the floor," Darby said as he reached down to pull his gear to the fireplace where Wolf had a nice, warm fire going.
Suddenly, he felt his arm roughly grabbed and he was pulled up and pushed onto the bed on his knees. A hard swat landed on his rear which made him yelp and turn over scooting back against the far wall. A look of shocked hurt and anger vied for the forefront, but Wolf's tired, taut voice cleared up any conflicts over the method of retaliation.
"I'm too damn tired to argue. I need to sleep, too, and I can't worry about you running off. Now lay down and go to sleep before I revive your memory of your first time over my knee." Then Wolf just stood there waiting for some comeback that would justify further discussion, a discussion Darby could tell would most definitely be between his backside and Wolf's hand.
Darby lay down facing the wall and all anger and defiance quickly left him as he immediately fell asleep.
Now he was thankful for the restful night. He hadn't slept so well in the past year save the one night in the hotel. He quickly made a quick trip to the outhouse and was just about to sit down, still dressed in his nightshirt. "Wash your hands first," Wolf directed without looking up from his breakfast.
He did as he was told, then he sat down across from the ex-marshal. The eggs looked deliciously golden and he realized how hungry he was. The bacon and coffee triggered his saliva glands and he immediately dug in, happily munching away, eagerly looking around the cabin and studying the place in the bright morning sunlight.
Wolf seemed to finally notice him. "Good morning," Wolf said realizing he had forgotten a simple courtesy. He was just not used to living with someone, and he was definitely not used to looking at another person across from breakfast who was not handcuffed and on his way to jail. If he wanted to teach the boy some civil, common courtesies, he'd best start polishing up his act, he thought to himself.
"Yeah, sure," Darby mumbled back as he stuffed his mouth with as much food as he could get in.
"Darby, the food's not going anywhere, you don't have to eat it like someone's going to take it away from you."
Darby looked up as his head was bent close to his plate and he was literally shoveling the food into the close opening. He noted the stern look Wolf was directing at him. He slowed his pace, sat up straight and chewed the food that was already in his mouth. Taking a quick gulp of coffee he finally was able to say, "Sorry, I'm just used to eating on the run, I guess."
Wolf realized it was more a response from more often skipping meals than eating them on the run or otherwise. The kid didn't look like he was overly fed.
"How'd you sleep last night?"
"Fine," Darby said, and Wolf noted the boy's tone had softened a bit. Either the hard, defiant act was requiring too much maintenance or Wolf caught him off guard.
"We'll take it pretty easy today. I'll show you around the ranch, show you what needs to be done, where things are kept. I'll also explain your chores to you. I'll expect you to do them every day without being told."
"You said I could cook," Darby stated, resurrecting his defiant tone now that his stomach had been fortified.
"Yes, that's your job. I just cooked breakfast today, because I wanted breakfast, not lunch. You were pretty tuckered out last night. I needed you rested. Tomorrow I'll expect you to rise early, fix breakfast, and then we'll have a pretty full day. I want to start with the barn roof. Cloud Walker could be bringing my stock up any day now."
"Who's Cloud Walker?" Darby asked as he dunked the last of his bread in the runny eggs and licked his fingers as the soggy mass was consumed in one try.
"A friend, a very good friend," was all Wolf would offer.
Darby still eyed him suspiciously wondering about this man's past, but he didn't push. He didn't want to open any can of worms about his own past, especially certain events that transpired on his trek from San Francisco, no way, no thank you, man, not to an ex-marshal. Sooner or later, Wolf would start prying, there was just no two ways about it. Wolf had a way of sneaking those questions up on Darby and he didn't want it to slip out that stealing a horse wasn't his first venture into the land of theft and subterfuge.
The rest of the day went easily enough. Darby was an interested student as he listened to Wolf's explanations. Wolf patiently answered any and all of his questions and he knew when Darby asked what was in various directions from the ranch that he was already collecting data for his future plans of escape.
"North are the Moon Cliffs and some of the worst passes around when it comes to an early snow. Most of them will be completely impassable in a month or two. Experienced mountain men stay out of those mountains in winter, Darby. So don't you go getting any ideas," Wolf challenged.
Darby said nothing. He merely nodded his head, all the while considering the time frame and working on his plans for freedom. Wolf noted the shaded eyes and slight blush to the ears, recognizing a telltale sign that Darby Cole was lying. Suit yourself, Wolf thought, but you'll rue the day, boy, I have to chase you into those mountains.
The next day they started on the barn roof. Wolf and Darby both worked in an easy steady rhythm. Wolf did the hammering and repairs and Darby brought the needed supplies up and he seemed to like getting up and down off the roof. He was childlike in his eagerness to help and Wolf could tell how anxious Darby was to do some of the repairs himself. When Wolf realized that the roof was pretty well fixed and just needed some general patches here and there, he offered the chore to Darby.
"Boy, I could use some time on the ground. I'm not all that fond of heights myself. Would you mind finishing the patching?"
Darby looked up startled, then he grinned broadly. "No, I think I can manage." Then Wolf watched as he quickly gathered his needed tools and supplies and boldly walked over to find the next spot that needed his ministrations. Wolf smiled to himself. The boy sure seems to like working. He has a knack for fixing things, too. In one location Wolf was somewhat perplexed on how to handle the patching so the roof wouldn't leak, yet he didn't want to waste the wood. Darby ingeniously cut some shingles from a side panel on the roof eve saving the shingles from being wasted. The kid definitely has a head on his shoulders. He just needs to be taught to read and he needs that clever intellect directed elsewhere besides a life of crime and practical jokes.
When Darby was finished with the roof, lunchtime was upon them. He happily went into the cellar where Wolf had shown him the shelves stocked nicely with cans, flour, beans, rice, and potatoes. Wolf promised him they would have chickens and a cow by month-end. He also found some canned vegetables that Wolf told him to use sparingly, until they could plant their own garden next spring. Darby grabbed a can of the tomatoes. He had a great recipe for Spanish rice that Carmela had taught him how to make. Since Darby didn't plan on being around next spring, he wanted to show Wolf his culinary skills.
He didn't have all the fixings that he would need, but with his quick mind and sharp wit, Darby was able to make due and substitute. When the rice dish was hot he dipped his spoon in and sent up a silent prayer to the heavens, it was delicious. Wolf would be so pleased. Whoa, Darby thought to himself, why the hell should I care whether he likes it or not. Slow down here, boy, like he remembered Sophie saying, get yourself set right on your feet before you go doing something foolish. Yeah, Sophie, Darby had a silent conversation with the woman from his past, I need to get myself on my feet. I don't owe him anything and I'm not going to be around long enough to owe him room and board.
"Smells mighty good."
Darby jumped and almost knocked the pot off the stove. Wolf could tell by the reddening of his ears that he had caught the boy planning some "no good." Wolf knew he would have to keep an eye on the kid for the next few days. Knowing Darby's impulsiveness and the damn stubbornness that most outlaws have he would have to make another break for it. Wolf was just going to have to impress upon his backside the stupidity of such an attempt, but he couldn't punish the boy for thinking about it.
"It is good. Best rice dish I ever tasted." Darby spooned a big plateful for Wolf and plopped two huge biscuits on top. He followed suit with his own plate and both men sat down to the noon meal.
Darby started asking questions with his usual full mouth. However, one stern look from Wolf and he cut his spoon portions down immediately and talked only when his mouth wasn't stuffed full.
"How many neighbors we got?"
"Just Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg that I know of. You remember Blair, you're partner in practical jokes," Wolf said lightly watching Darby's face at the recollection of their first meeting.
"Yeah, I remember. He was as much guilty of that as I was. He kept pestering me to pull one of my jokes, said he needed a good laugh," Darby tried to offer up his own defense. Not sure if Wolf still thought he needed that "hide tanning" for the kick and bite.
"Darby, I thought I told you lying was out. Do you care to amend that statement a bit before I decide whether you need further instruction."
Darby put his spoon and biscuit down and sat back. He eyed Wolf cautiously as the older man stopped his own meal and stared patiently into the black, defiant orbs. Darby finally gave way first, dropping his eyes to his lap, wetting his lips, and then tentatively proceeding, "Well, maybe it was my idea, but Blair could have said 'no'." He wanted to see the old man fall off his horse, too." He damned himself for starting this whole dialogue to begin with. He never imagined asking about neighbors would get him in trouble again.
"Boy, I heard the whole of the conversation from my hotel window where you were planning your activities below. Blair kept telling you he wanted no part of it, you pushed him into standing guard. He took his punishment for his hand in your little joke, Jim Ellison also bought Mr. Brady a new saddle, which I'm sure was also taken out of Blair's hide. First chance we get, we're going to go pay our neighbors a visit and you're going to apologize to Blair and make amends to Mr. Ellison. You hear me?"
"That's not fair, I meant the old man no harm, it wasn't my fault the rich old bastard..."
"That's enough, Darby," Wolf said sharply. He took a deep breath and sighed. He was tired of arguing with the kid, but he chose this penance, he brought this upon himself. He'd best face his responsibilities now and either convince the boy to see reason or make him see reason. As tired as he was, he couldn't back down now.
"I told you to watch your language. This is your last warning." This was said evenly, patiently, and firmly in a voice that Darby knew said the man was at his limits.
Darby sat there staring into the blue, cold eyes. Wanting so much to be obstinate and put up a good fight, but he knew what the outcome would be and he was frightened. He could feel the red hot blush push up his cheeks and the tops of his ears must be flaming by now. He took an unconsciously large gulp and nodded his head in total agreement and submission. Wolf waited then picked up his spoon and continued with his meal.
He knew Darby would pout now, so he continued talking trying once again to distract the temper tantrum that would only get Darby's butt sore and Wolf's arm all the more tired.
"Jim Ellison lives about a two hour ride from here, Southwest off the fork, I've been told. I've never been to his ranch myself, yet. Remember those wild horses we saw racing across the range, Jim catches them, tames them, and sells them. I'm sure he'd be willing to give you a few pointers about catching one of them for yourself. If he's not busy, he might even see fit to help or take you out once on one of his trips to catch some. He seems like a good man and he seemed really protective of Blair. They seem close."
Darby didn't join in any further in the conversation, but Wolf noticed his eyes brighten a bit and some of the anger recede at the mention of the wild horses. The wheels inside that disarranged wild head of hair were turning and churning full cycle. Wolf only hoped they were planning productive, law abiding schemes for success, but in his heart he knew the great escape was first and foremost on his young companion's mind.
Wolf made sure he kept Darby busy for the remainder of the week. He constantly had him mending fence poles around the corral, patching roofs, fixing shelves inside the house, even the old rocking chair that the former owner's had left and Wolf had hastily repaired were reassigned to Darby. The boy had a flair for doing the impossible. The hay loft door was barely hanging over the barnyard and Wolf had decided he would just have to replace the whole thing. However, Darby had fashioned an ingenious new hinge that not only secured the door safely, but made it open so far and then it could be positioned in place to keep from swinging in the wind.
Wolf had surreptitiously watched his young charge work. He began to take a certain pride in the boy's eagerness to put in a full day's work. He could well understand how Darby had made his way across country doing odd jobs and helping people fix their places up. He had a clever slant to problem solving and a determination Wolf found admirable and laughable at the same time. Wolf dreaded that same determination focused on escape. He had a feeling that Darby wasn't going to be sitting too comfortably through the long winter months, if he directed his perseverance in leaving before he served his time.
In the evenings, after dinner was eaten and the kitchen cleaned. Wolf would oftentimes sit on the front porch, which faced east towards the rich valley that encircled the base of the Rockies. Darby would often go off by himself. In back of the cabin there was a crop of trees with willows, evergreens and rocks circled about. It was a nice oasis in the meadow and Darby liked the privacy and the sense of having a place of his own. He would sit there on the rocks and his heart would ache for his ma and all the ladies. The first time he had wandered off here, Wolf had come searching for him, angered when he found the boy red eyed, brushing away tears in embarrassment.
"Tarnation, boy, where did you go off to?" Wolf had started yelling as he saw the shadow among the trees hunched over on a rock.
Darby quickly wiped his eyes and turned his back to Wolf. "I just wanted to be alone. I didn't know that was a crime."
Wolf calmed himself. He didn't want to admit the fear that had coursed through him when he found his companion missing. He immediately assumed he had run off, but after checking the barn, seeing the horses in their stalls, the old canvas pack still lying in the corner with Darby's other belongings, he realized his charge couldn't have gotten very far. He knew Darby would make an escape attempt, but he didn't expect to let him get very far. This was wild country out here and he feared that Darby would take off for the mountains. Wolf knew if he didn't find the boy before he hit the high country, Darby may very well not survive a night or two.
Then he saw the footprints, freshly made, heading off towards the back of the cabin. He followed the path through the tall grass and found Darby's hiding place.
Now Wolf could hear the anguish and pain in the boy's voice. He stood there for a few moments with his hands in his pockets unsure what he should do. "Do you want to talk about it?" Wolf asked, gently. "Sometimes it helps to talk about things."
"Not this time," Darby said, "not <<hiccup>> not with you."
"I'm not the enemy here, kid."
"Leave me alone, just leave me alone...please."
The total despair in the young voice made Wolf hesitate, but when he saw the shoulders hunch even further down and heard the sobbing start anew, he turned and walked slowly back to the cabin giving Darby the ounce of privacy he felt every man deserved.
Part 4 of Story Two