Evangaline Ruth Webb. That was her name. She was the 19 year old daugther of Nathanial Webb and Lillian Sanders-Webb. In fact she had just turned 19 today. Gabriel William had been their 13 year old son. He had carved their names hastily onto crosses he'd made from tree branches tied together with hemp rope he'd found in the wagon. He'd found their names in a family Bible. He deeply regretted not being able to bury them in more proper graves. But the ground had been hard and dry and he could only dig down a couple of feet. But there had been plenty of good rocks around to make decent mounds over the bodies. At least they wouldn't be left for animals and buzzards to feast on. He'd left the dead bandit for that. He knew he really should have at least covered the body with rocks but time just didn't permit it. And with three of those bandits still out there, he wasn't taking any chances on being out in the open for very long so the shallow mounded graves of their victims would have to suffice.
He had killed one of them and wounded two of them but one had gotten away clean - the one with the ring master's outfit - and he had no idea how badly the other two were hurt. Maybe just bad enough to get them good and mad and ready to find him and get some payback. And he and the girl had been like fish in a barrel at the bottom of that valley. Heyes' instincts had screamed at him to scoop up the girl, throw her across the tethered mule and high tail it out of there. And that's just what he did. After securing the girl to the one bare backed mule that was grazing nearby, he quickly grabbed anything that may be of use to them. All their belongings lay scattered on the ground. He took a couple of blankets and inside them he bundled some food, extra clothes for the girl and some eating and cooking utensils. In a last minute decision he grabbed a stack of books strapped together and a silk drawstring bag. He didn't know why he grabbed them, well the books for purely selfish reasons he supposed, but the bag....something just told him to take it. He secured the items to his saddle, mounted up and rode out hard and fast, leaving behind the dead. Keeping his eyes alert for trouble, he rode out of the valley staying close to the dense forest then crossed the small range that was on the opposite side of the valley from where he had ridden in. It took two hours to cross that small mountain range. If the girl had been conscious it probably would have taken three or four. The sun was sinking fast and the animals were exhausted after that hard ride over the mountain range. She was probably going to have some sore ribs tomorrow. But at least she would be alive. He stopped by a creek that was flowing out of the Pecos river and set up camp. He sat by the fire now, watching the girl as she lay on a blanket on the opposite side of the fire.
She was beginning to regain consciousness. He had been mentally preparing himself for that moment when it came. He was expecting her to be hysterical, confused and maybe even a little violent. He rose from where he sat and went to kneel beside her. He sat back on his heels, waiting for the hysterics to start.
"How do you do, Evangeline? My name's Joshua Smith." He hoped using her name would let her know he was a friend and not an enemy. He stayed there on his heels, hands in the air so she wouldn't feel threatened. He knew all too well that a wounded animal was the most dangerous. She might not be wounded physically, but mentally she had to be a mess.
"Where are we? Where's my family?" She cocked the pistol as she spoke.
"We're about 20 miles south of where your family was camped."
"How'd I get here?"
"I brought you."
"All by yourself?"
He nodded with a somber "umm hmm."
Still gripping the cocked and loaded weapon with both hands, she scanned her surroundings, searching for anything familiar. The small campfire didn't provide enough light for her to see if they were really alone. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him with suspicion. She took in his appearance. While he did sport a heavy five o'clock shadow, he didn't have the scraggily week old beards the other villians had had. And the four men who'd attacked her family had reeked so strongly of sour whiskey, urine and unwashed backsides that she could smell them from a good distance. The only thing she smelled now was coffee over the fire. He must have saved her. But how did she know what his intentions were. He could be a ruthless outlaw who happened upon another gang of outlaws and decided he wanted her for himself. She had to be cautious.
"You're not with them." The way she said it let him know she realized he wasn't part of that ruthless gang.
"No. I'm not one of them."
But she still didn't trust him and she said as much.
"I don't trust you."
"That's understandable. But I promise you I mean you no harm, Evangeline, I want to help you."
"How do you know my name?"
"I've been reading the records in your family Bible." He motioned toward the Bible laying near his bed roll on the opposite side of the fire.
There was nothing here familiar to her except the brown mule grazing nearby and that Bible.
"What else did you steal?"
Heyes could only shake his head in disbelief. How absurd it was that she would be worried about her possessions when her family lay murdered a few miles away. He realized then that she didn't fully understand that her family was dead.
Heyes slowly started to rise to his feet, keeping his hands high.
"Don't move!"
He stood in front of her now with his hands still raised. "Evangeline, I'm....
"Don't call me that! You don't know me! I don't know you!"
"Alright, alright," he said in a voice as calm and soothing as he could make it. "Miss Webb,I didn't steal anything. I took you and a few things I thought you might need and I rode us out of there real fast."
She lowered the gun slightly. She looked around, confused as if she might take off running. So now was when the hysteria would probably start, he thought.
"I promised your mother I would take care of you."
Her head shot up and a flash of several different emotions crossed her face in one moment. Anger, confusion and despair. "You talked to my mother?"
"Yes."
"When?" She eyed him suspiciously.
He didn't know how to say it without just blurting it out. So he didn't say anything. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly then looked deeply into her silvery blue eyes and tried to tell her without words that he'd spoken to her mother just before she died. She lowered the gun slightly and stared him straight in the eye. His dark and innocent eyes spoke volumes. "She's dead isn't she?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes."
"Where's my daddy and my brother!" She was starting to scream at him now.
Gripping the gun with both hands she stepped closer to him and aimed it directly into his face. "Where are they!"
He looked briefly down at the ground and again directly into her eyes to convey words without speaking. And she understood better than if he'd shouted, "They're both dead."
The instinct for survival evaporated like water on the desert. The gun fell from her hands and landed with a thud on the ground. What did it matter now if he killed her? Everything she loved was gone. Deep down she had known the truth, had known they wouldn't survive even in the midst of the attack. She slowly sank to her knees in front of him. And then collapsed into a sobbing heap on the bed roll he'd laid her on earlier.
He studied her sleeping form on the bed roll on the other side of the fire. He'd covered her with a blanket and all he could see of her was her hair spilling out across the sandy ground. And what hair it was. Even in her dissheveled and unclean state he could see that her hair was glorious. It was thick and lusterous and hung just past her waist. If it were clean and brushed he was sure it would be prettier even that Clem's hair, and Clementine Hale had beautiful hair. In the firelight it looked like rich brown silk. She obviously looked like her father. Her mother, even in death had been an extrodinarily beautiful woman. But she had had golden blonde hair with sun washed streaks of white through it. And her complexion had been paler. Her form slighter. Almost pixy like. Her daughter was taller, darker and more curvascious than she had been. The eyes were different too. Mrs. Webb's eyes had been the same blue as the Kid's. Like a piece of the sky resting in milk. But this girl's eyes were the color of an approaching thunderstorm.
She'd been through so much. How was he to know if she even wanted to go with him. Then again what choice did she have? He knew she'd be feeling lost and alone when the reality of her situation sank in and she'd probably be more than willing to let someone else make all her decisions for her. For the time being anyway. And he had promised her mother he would take care of her. And so he would. He knew from their family records that Mr. and Mrs. Webb had both been born in Tennessee and both of their children in Texas. But he had no clue if they still had family in Tennessee or here in Texas. Or if family was waiting for them west of here, which was the direction they had obviously been headed according to the tracks their wagon had left. Hopefully he'd find all that out over the next week. That's how long he figured it would take to get to Red Rock. At least four more days ride to Alpine, if not longer, depending on how well she could ride and her state of mind. And he figured a day to rest before another two days ride to Buckton, then a days ride on the stage. So, seven days to get to know Evangaline Webb. And seven days for that SOB in the circus clothes to find them. Since they'd ridden toward the east and he and the girl had headed southwest over the mountains he was hoping they had seen the last of them. But he was not going to let his guard down. Not until he and his new companion were safe in Red Rock with the Kid.
He had killed one of them and wounded two of them but one had gotten away clean - the one with the ring master's outfit - and he had no idea how badly the other two were hurt. Maybe just bad enough to get them good and mad and ready to find him and get some payback. And he and the girl had been like fish in a barrel at the bottom of that valley. Heyes' instincts had screamed at him to scoop up the girl, throw her across the tethered mule and high tail it out of there. And that's just what he did. After securing the girl to the one bare backed mule that was grazing nearby, he quickly grabbed anything that may be of use to them. All their belongings lay scattered on the ground. He took a couple of blankets and inside them he bundled some food, extra clothes for the girl and some eating and cooking utensils. In a last minute decision he grabbed a stack of books strapped together and a silk drawstring bag. He didn't know why he grabbed them, well the books for purely selfish reasons he supposed, but the bag....something just told him to take it. He secured the items to his saddle, mounted up and rode out hard and fast, leaving behind the dead. Keeping his eyes alert for trouble, he rode out of the valley staying close to the dense forest then crossed the small range that was on the opposite side of the valley from where he had ridden in. It took two hours to cross that small mountain range. If the girl had been conscious it probably would have taken three or four. The sun was sinking fast and the animals were exhausted after that hard ride over the mountain range. She was probably going to have some sore ribs tomorrow. But at least she would be alive. He stopped by a creek that was flowing out of the Pecos river and set up camp. He sat by the fire now, watching the girl as she lay on a blanket on the opposite side of the fire.
She was beginning to regain consciousness. He had been mentally preparing himself for that moment when it came. He was expecting her to be hysterical, confused and maybe even a little violent. He rose from where he sat and went to kneel beside her. He sat back on his heels, waiting for the hysterics to start.
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She had been awake for about half an hour. But she hadn't let him know it. When he wasn't staring at her she had been watching him through half closed eyes from behind her veil of hair. Who was he? Was he one of those mean sons of bitches that had hurt her and her family? She couldn't recall what all of them had looked like. But he just didn't look like a killer. In fact, when she had first regained consciousness he'd been leaning over her. She'd opened her eyes just enough to see his face. It was such a beautiful face she thought for a brief second God had answered her prayer and he was an angel sent to take her to heaven. Then she realized it was dark. Then all the memories of what had happened flooded back over her and she became afraid and knew instantly this was not heaven, nor was it hell. So she was still alive. Had he saved her? He must have. But how could she be sure. The creepy circus man had let her know that no harm would come to her. She was no good to him if she was soiled in any way. So maybe this man was one of them and he was in charge of keeping her virtue in tact. But if that were so, where were the rest of them? And where was her family? This one man couldn't possibly have killed all four of the bad men and ridden off to safety with her? Could he? Her survival instincts were really kicking in now and she had to come up with a plan. The six shooter strapped to his hip hadn't escaped her attention. And all she had to do was get him close enough and she would grab it and find out just what the heck was going on. Yep it was time for her to wake up for real.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He must be exhausted. That's the only excuse for what he had just allowed to happen. Now he was staring down the barrel of his own gun. One second he was leaning over the girl's supine body waiting for her to come completely awake, and the next she was on her feet holding his own gun on him. Dammit!! It wasn't like him to be this stupid. The Kid would have been really disappointed if he'd been here. Now he was going to have to put his silver tongue to use and talk his way out of this before she shot first and asked questions later. "Where are we? Where's my family?" She cocked the pistol as she spoke.
"We're about 20 miles south of where your family was camped."
"How'd I get here?"
"I brought you."
"All by yourself?"
He nodded with a somber "umm hmm."
Still gripping the cocked and loaded weapon with both hands, she scanned her surroundings, searching for anything familiar. The small campfire didn't provide enough light for her to see if they were really alone. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him with suspicion. She took in his appearance. While he did sport a heavy five o'clock shadow, he didn't have the scraggily week old beards the other villians had had. And the four men who'd attacked her family had reeked so strongly of sour whiskey, urine and unwashed backsides that she could smell them from a good distance. The only thing she smelled now was coffee over the fire. He must have saved her. But how did she know what his intentions were. He could be a ruthless outlaw who happened upon another gang of outlaws and decided he wanted her for himself. She had to be cautious.
"You're not with them." The way she said it let him know she realized he wasn't part of that ruthless gang.
"No. I'm not one of them."
But she still didn't trust him and she said as much.
"I don't trust you."
"That's understandable. But I promise you I mean you no harm, Evangeline, I want to help you."
"How do you know my name?"
"I've been reading the records in your family Bible." He motioned toward the Bible laying near his bed roll on the opposite side of the fire.
There was nothing here familiar to her except the brown mule grazing nearby and that Bible.
"What else did you steal?"
Heyes could only shake his head in disbelief. How absurd it was that she would be worried about her possessions when her family lay murdered a few miles away. He realized then that she didn't fully understand that her family was dead.
Heyes slowly started to rise to his feet, keeping his hands high.
"Don't move!"
He stood in front of her now with his hands still raised. "Evangeline, I'm....
"Don't call me that! You don't know me! I don't know you!"
"Alright, alright," he said in a voice as calm and soothing as he could make it. "Miss Webb,I didn't steal anything. I took you and a few things I thought you might need and I rode us out of there real fast."
She lowered the gun slightly. She looked around, confused as if she might take off running. So now was when the hysteria would probably start, he thought.
"I promised your mother I would take care of you."
Her head shot up and a flash of several different emotions crossed her face in one moment. Anger, confusion and despair. "You talked to my mother?"
"Yes."
"When?" She eyed him suspiciously.
He didn't know how to say it without just blurting it out. So he didn't say anything. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly then looked deeply into her silvery blue eyes and tried to tell her without words that he'd spoken to her mother just before she died. She lowered the gun slightly and stared him straight in the eye. His dark and innocent eyes spoke volumes. "She's dead isn't she?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes."
"Where's my daddy and my brother!" She was starting to scream at him now.
Gripping the gun with both hands she stepped closer to him and aimed it directly into his face. "Where are they!"
He looked briefly down at the ground and again directly into her eyes to convey words without speaking. And she understood better than if he'd shouted, "They're both dead."
The instinct for survival evaporated like water on the desert. The gun fell from her hands and landed with a thud on the ground. What did it matter now if he killed her? Everything she loved was gone. Deep down she had known the truth, had known they wouldn't survive even in the midst of the attack. She slowly sank to her knees in front of him. And then collapsed into a sobbing heap on the bed roll he'd laid her on earlier.
Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs. Heyes rubbed his face with his hands and inwardly cursed. He wasn't good at this sort of thing. This was the Kid's department. After reholstering his gun, he reached out and touched her shoulder his heart hurting for her. He knew from experience there were no words that would bring her comfort. But just knowing someone was there might. He was struck with a memory of his 10 year old self and an almost 9 year old Jed clinging to each other after their families had been killed. And not just physically did they cling to each other, but emotionally, mentally and spiritually. And they'd been clinging to each other ever since. He supposed that's why they had never been able to be separated from each other for very long at a time. They shared a bond that most people could never and would never understand. And now this young woman was experiencing the same loss, but she didn't have a Jed to cling to. And his heart went out to her. So he just sat there with her while she cried herself out. When the sobbing had subsided to just snuffles, she looked up at him and again they communicated without words but with their eyes. His saying, "I'm here. You can trust me." Her's saying "What do I do now? How do I go on?" He was all too familiar with the questions that were racing through her head right now. And he wished he had answers for her, but the truth was no one had answers for him when he'd lost his family, and so he had none for her. Acting again on instinct, he gathered her in his arms and held her. And she let him, clearly understanding now that he had been the one who had saved her life and had tried to save her family. Needing the comfort of a human touch, she clung to him just like he and Kid had clung to each other. He held her like a child and stroked her hair and her back as he gently rocked her. Neither spoke. He didn't know how much time had passed as he sat there holding her, but eventually her snuffling stopped and her rhythmic breathing told him she had fallen asleep. He gently laid her back on her bed roll and covered her with a blanket. Returning to his own bed roll on the opposite side of the fire, he lay on his side and watched her sleep. It was a long time before he found sleep himself.
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He had to come up with a plan. Sleep would not come until he came up with a plan. He'd always been like that. Once his mind started working on something, he had to keep at it until he had it worked out. He used to drive the Kid crazy when he was planning a job. He couldn't help it though. When he was planning he had to run it by the Kid. Even if that meant waking him up in the middle of the night. Only problem was, the Kid was almost two hundred miles away in Red Rock and he was here in the middle of nowhere alone. Well, not exactly alone. For the first time in his life he was responsible for another human being. Except for the Kid of course. He and the Kid had always been responsible for each other. How would the Kid feel about having to help him watch after a young girl? He smiled at that thought. Who was he kidding? Kid Curry had never turned down the chance to help a damsel in distress. He'd probably take over when he brought the girl to Red Rock. And he would let him. He'd let Kid coddle her and pamper her, while he took care of the hard stuff. That's the way it was supposed to be. The way it had always been. They both assumed their respective roles with ease after all these years. First he'd find out if she had any family and then he'd send word for them to come and collect her. Or he'd send her to them. Either way, the sooner she was with family of her own the better off she'd be. And the better off he and the Kid would be. But what if she didn't have any family? Then what? He had to consider that possiblity. He and the Kid had had nobody after their folks had been killed. And they'd ended up in that overcrowded orphanage. He wouldn't let that happen to her. She was too old to be in an orphanage anyway, but not too old to end up a whiskey soaked saloon girl depending on strange men for her next drink. No, he would not let that happen to her. He didn't just kill a man and risk his own life to save her just to have her end up a drunk floosy in a bar. Who knew how differently his life and the Kid's would have turned out if there had been somebody to help them make decisions and choices. Maybe they wouldn't be former outlaws ducking from posses and lawmen, hoping against hope that the governor of Wyoming would grant them amnesty. But first things first. He had to finish this job for Mac. And she'd have to come with him. Then when they got to Red Rock he and the Kid would decide together what their next move was. All this would have to be reported to the sheriff and that was something he had to talk over with his partner. And one thing was absolutly sure...they could not live a life ducking from the law, sleeping in the outdoors, running from possees and looking over their shoulders with a young woman hanging onto thieir shirt tails. He'd keep his promise to her mother. He'd see her safely in the hands of family or the authorities and then he and the Kid would be on their way. Simple, clean and easy.
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He had to come up with a plan. Sleep would not come until he came up with a plan. He'd always been like that. Once his mind started working on something, he had to keep at it until he had it worked out. He used to drive the Kid crazy when he was planning a job. He couldn't help it though. When he was planning he had to run it by the Kid. Even if that meant waking him up in the middle of the night. Only problem was, the Kid was almost two hundred miles away in Red Rock and he was here in the middle of nowhere alone. Well, not exactly alone. For the first time in his life he was responsible for another human being. Except for the Kid of course. He and the Kid had always been responsible for each other. How would the Kid feel about having to help him watch after a young girl? He smiled at that thought. Who was he kidding? Kid Curry had never turned down the chance to help a damsel in distress. He'd probably take over when he brought the girl to Red Rock. And he would let him. He'd let Kid coddle her and pamper her, while he took care of the hard stuff. That's the way it was supposed to be. The way it had always been. They both assumed their respective roles with ease after all these years. First he'd find out if she had any family and then he'd send word for them to come and collect her. Or he'd send her to them. Either way, the sooner she was with family of her own the better off she'd be. And the better off he and the Kid would be. But what if she didn't have any family? Then what? He had to consider that possiblity. He and the Kid had had nobody after their folks had been killed. And they'd ended up in that overcrowded orphanage. He wouldn't let that happen to her. She was too old to be in an orphanage anyway, but not too old to end up a whiskey soaked saloon girl depending on strange men for her next drink. No, he would not let that happen to her. He didn't just kill a man and risk his own life to save her just to have her end up a drunk floosy in a bar. Who knew how differently his life and the Kid's would have turned out if there had been somebody to help them make decisions and choices. Maybe they wouldn't be former outlaws ducking from posses and lawmen, hoping against hope that the governor of Wyoming would grant them amnesty. But first things first. He had to finish this job for Mac. And she'd have to come with him. Then when they got to Red Rock he and the Kid would decide together what their next move was. All this would have to be reported to the sheriff and that was something he had to talk over with his partner. And one thing was absolutly sure...they could not live a life ducking from the law, sleeping in the outdoors, running from possees and looking over their shoulders with a young woman hanging onto thieir shirt tails. He'd keep his promise to her mother. He'd see her safely in the hands of family or the authorities and then he and the Kid would be on their way. Simple, clean and easy.
He studied her sleeping form on the bed roll on the other side of the fire. He'd covered her with a blanket and all he could see of her was her hair spilling out across the sandy ground. And what hair it was. Even in her dissheveled and unclean state he could see that her hair was glorious. It was thick and lusterous and hung just past her waist. If it were clean and brushed he was sure it would be prettier even that Clem's hair, and Clementine Hale had beautiful hair. In the firelight it looked like rich brown silk. She obviously looked like her father. Her mother, even in death had been an extrodinarily beautiful woman. But she had had golden blonde hair with sun washed streaks of white through it. And her complexion had been paler. Her form slighter. Almost pixy like. Her daughter was taller, darker and more curvascious than she had been. The eyes were different too. Mrs. Webb's eyes had been the same blue as the Kid's. Like a piece of the sky resting in milk. But this girl's eyes were the color of an approaching thunderstorm.
She'd been through so much. How was he to know if she even wanted to go with him. Then again what choice did she have? He knew she'd be feeling lost and alone when the reality of her situation sank in and she'd probably be more than willing to let someone else make all her decisions for her. For the time being anyway. And he had promised her mother he would take care of her. And so he would. He knew from their family records that Mr. and Mrs. Webb had both been born in Tennessee and both of their children in Texas. But he had no clue if they still had family in Tennessee or here in Texas. Or if family was waiting for them west of here, which was the direction they had obviously been headed according to the tracks their wagon had left. Hopefully he'd find all that out over the next week. That's how long he figured it would take to get to Red Rock. At least four more days ride to Alpine, if not longer, depending on how well she could ride and her state of mind. And he figured a day to rest before another two days ride to Buckton, then a days ride on the stage. So, seven days to get to know Evangaline Webb. And seven days for that SOB in the circus clothes to find them. Since they'd ridden toward the east and he and the girl had headed southwest over the mountains he was hoping they had seen the last of them. But he was not going to let his guard down. Not until he and his new companion were safe in Red Rock with the Kid.
I am loving this story, for a minute I thought the rest of the story wasn't on here then I saw that they were at the side in the Blog archives!! Still reading it at the moment!! I have loved AS&J and especially Peter since it was shown in the UK, I was 15 when he died and even now still think of him, I light a candle in his name at Christmas and on his birthday. I am on many other sites, including the fantastic Facebook group and I am finding out more about this wonderful man all the time. Thank you and keep writing. Gina
ReplyDeleteThanks, Gina. I love to get feedback from my readers. I look forward to your comments on the other chapters too. I hope you will consider becoming a member of my site that way blogger will let you know when I post something new.
ReplyDeletePeace, love and dimpled smiles,
Karen :')