Malcolm Johansson had told him that a man couldn’t create a future while living in the past, and that’s what Garth wanted. A future. One that held no connection to his past.
It had been over nine years since he’d seen Bridgette. She’d be eighteen now. Could be married. Have children of her own. The idea of that, of her being married, made him crack another grin. She’d been so sad about admitting she was an orphan that day under the oak tree, he’d pretended to perform a ceremony, marrying the two of them so neither of them would be alone. Kids. Life seemed so simple to them.
Not one but two men arrived to take over watching the herd. Garth waved at them as he finished his slow trek around the cattle and then headed back toward camp. His head still hurt. Not just from his injury. It ached from thinking too much.
As he rode into camp, he noticed Bat leading Brad’s horse and scanned the area for the young man. At least his good eye was no longer watering, leaving his limited sight a bit clearer. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Brad spooned beans and eggs into his mouth as fast as the others had.
“Want me to take your horse back to the others, Boss?” Bat asked.
“No, I’ll ride back out to the herd once more yet this evening.” Garth dismounted and dropped the reins of his horse. Every animal in his remuda was trained to stay where it was left and didn’t spook easy. He put as much effort into training his horses as he did his men.
On his way across the camp, Garth paused long enough to fetch a cup of coffee from JoJo before walking over to sit down next to Brad.
“How’d that go?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.
“Fine.” Brad swallowed the food in his mouth. “She was real nice, and thankful.”
Although it didn’t matter, Garth couldn’t stop from asking, “What’s her name?”
“I dunno,” Brad said.
“You didn’t ask? She didn’t tell you?”
“Nope. I might’ve but as soon as we got the cow in the barn, the man came out of the house yelling that she was needed. That something was wrong. She took off for the house and I got my rope and skedaddled. That fella’s an ornery one.”
Garth pitched the contents of his coffee cup onto the ground. “You left her there? With the man yelling that something was wrong?”
“She told me to go.”
“Where’s the house?” Garth couldn’t say why that bothered him. He wasn’t one to put his nose in someone else’s business, but his gut was churning and he couldn’t ignore it.
“About five miles northwest,” Brad said. “You want me to go back? See if she’s all right?”
“No,” Garth answered as he stood. “I’ll go.”
“Want me to go with you?” Brad set his plate down.
“No. You’re on duty soon.”
“Just follow the creek,” Brad said. “When it veers east, go west about half a mile. It’s a sod house and a barn that’s about to fall down.”
“I’ll find it,” Garth answered.
JoJo’s frown couldn’t go unnoticed, nor could how the man fell in step beside him. “You think she’s in trouble for giving us the eggs and green beans?”
Garth shrugged as he gathered the reins of his horse.
“I didn’t see that fella earlier,” JoJo said, “only Brad did.”
“I’ll be back.” Garth swung up into the saddle.
“Maybe you oughta take someone with you, with your eyes hurting and all.”
“My eyes are fine.”
“One ain’t,” JoJo supplied.
Garth steered the horse around and headed northwest. He knew damn well one eye wasn’t fine. He couldn’t see it, or see with it. Didn’t need to. The pain told him all he needed to know. Next time he got hurt, he’d stay far away from JoJo. Doctoring was not JoJo’s strong suit, but cooking was, and although Garth hadn’t admitted it, those green beans and eggs had been a much needed change to their diet of late.
As he rode, he wondered about the woman who’d traded the eggs and beans for the cow. And he wondered about Bridgette. Normally, he planned rather than wondered. Bridgette hadn’t. She’d wondered about everything, especially rainbows. How they formed. Why they formed. Where they started and ended. Every time she saw one she was ready to take off in search of discovering the mythical pot of gold. He’d tried to tell her that riches aren’t found, they have to be made, just like the sun makes rainbows. She’d scoffed at that, told him he needed to have more imagination and belief.
He had belief all right. That life wasn’t full of rainbows.
In some ways, he hoped that she’d finally learned that; in other ways, he hoped she never would.
Just as Brad had instructed, Garth shifted direction when the creek veered, and sure enough, a sod shanty and run-down barn appeared a short distance later. A bit of injustice flared inside him. The place needed work. He could understand money being tight, even nonexistent, but ambition was free. A man not using that irritated him more than fidgeting.
He found a place where the barbed wire fence had been cut and followed the trail through the tall grass to the barn. His horse hadn’t stopped yet when a man exited the doorway of the ramshackle building. One of the double doors that would be needed to keep animals inside was missing and the other door, gray and rotting away, hung crooked on its one hinge.
“What you want?”
Using only one eye, Garth didn’t have time to completely size the man up before he spoke again.
“If it’s doctoring you need, head out,” the man said. “She’s busy.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” Garth said.
“Looks like you do to me.”
The man was of fair size, but it came from laziness rather than hard work, and the bottle he’d slid in his back pocket could be part of the cause. Garth dismounted. “I’m with the cattle drive.”
Taking a step back, the man folded his arms over his portly stomach. “I told her you’d be back to get your cow. No man, not one with a brain that is, trades a cow for eggs and beans. I sure enough told her that. And I told her I wouldn’t be taking the blame for her foolishness.” Waving a hand toward the barn doorway, he continued, “The cow and calf are in the barn. I can’t help you take them back. I’m busy.”
Even with just one eye, Garth saw plenty that had been ignored for a long time and wasn’t receiving any attention right now, either. “Doing what?”
The man rubbed his nose with the back of one hand. “Waiting. The wife’s pushing out a baby.”
Garth’s glance toward the house didn’t tell him anything other than it was in better shape than the barn. At least the door had both hinges and was tightly closed. “Your first?” he asked, turning his attention back to the man.
“Yes. If it lives that is.” Worry filled the man’s eyes as he glanced toward the house. “A couple ones before this didn’t.”
Compassion didn’t come easily, but in this instant, it seemed to. “Name’s Garth McCain,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Cecil