Tara's Forgotten Son

  Chapter 10

  Wade rode through the night, becoming increasingly weary, but unwilling to stop other than to water the horse, letting it rest and graze for a moment while grabbing a cold biscuit from his pack to eat. He knew that Emily’s family had a five day head start, and he was not willing to lose a moment. He figured that they would probably be walking since they only had one horse, and he should be able to catch up with them pretty quickly, and so he kept a sharp eye out, hoping to catch them en route.

  As he rode, he imagined the scene when he would face the father of the boy he had killed and the daughter he would whisk away. There was sure to be a fight, and he wanted to be prepared. In his mind, he could picture a furious man with a buggy whip in his hand, beating his daughter savagely, and Wade could feel the ferocity of barbarian protection wave through him. If nothing else, he would make sure that Emily would never feel that pain or fear again. She would never feel the stinging lash of a buggy whip across her back and legs, the whelps of broken, bleeding flesh, or the heartache of being dejected, repudiated, and forsaken by the one person in the world that she should have been able to rely on for shelter and comfort. Wade was determined that he would become the person she could count on for protection, and he would supply her with the love that she had lacked for so many years. For right now, though, he had to concentrate on finding her, for until she was in his sight, he had no recourse. She was in her father’s clutches, in his power, and she did not possess the power to free herself.

  The sun began to set in front of him like blazing fire along the horizon. As the sun dipped lower, Wade could feel his eyes becoming heavier, and his head nuzzling Silver’s neck. They had been riding for two days, and although he hated to waste time, he knew that neither he nor Silver would make it much further without rest, and he could not face his enemy without respite. Their campsite was not comfortable, but it was hidden from the road, there was a small fire to keep them warm, and his knapsack for a pillow. When they woke with the sun, hope was renewed. Wade mounted Silver and set out with a watchful eye, certain that he would find them soon.

  Long miles stretched behind them as days turned to weeks, rising with the sun and heading west, never lingering for long, ever-searching for signs of travelers. Light sprinkles of rain delayed the scorching waves of heat that rose before them, contrasted with pelting, heavy blankets of rain, escorted by peals of thunder and splashes of lightening crossing the sky. Farmhouses sprinkled the land, and great plantations rose before them, now crumbling beneath the disintegrating economy. Homes, land, and buildings bore the scars of war despite efforts of reconstruction, and only occasionally did signs of life appear, beckoning to them, calling for reprieve from their endless journey. Not once had he sighted Emily, but he continued on, searching endlessly.

  Weeks rolled by with only roadside rests and occasional towns where they stopped to dine. Unpleasant thoughts began to creep into Wade’s mind, jeering at his unsuccess. Though he tried to push these suggestions from his mind, he began to allow them to linger for just a moment, and then a moment more, until hope began to lose sight. Frustration seeped into his veins, and hot anger poured through him until he found himself screaming in the darkness for relief. Broad expanses of land stood before him, and long weeks of dismal defeat lie behind him, and all around the trees seemed to laugh, calling to him to turn around, give up, and return home.

  Vicksburg, Mississippi lay ahead of him, the point of no return. He had to make a decision, for once he crossed the Mississippi, he was in unfamiliar territory, the land of pioneers and brave soldiers, not the land for a boy who at one time believed he was a man. Now, he was not so sure of his independence, his ability, or even his bravery. Lack of sleep and nutrition had clouded his mind, and he wondered at times why he was on this road, facing the unknown, continuing forward on a futile quest. He rode into town, looking around, awed by the magnificent structures that surrounded him. He had heard of the Battle of Vicksburg, and their stand against Sherman’s army. To be in the presence of such an unbeatable force was inspiring. War-torn buildings stood erect and the scars of battle were obvious, but courage wafted through the town, an unbeatable desire to rise above the defeat of the confederacy, salvaging the pride of the south. At that moment, he remembered his cause, the cause for which he was willing to face legions of men, the wrath of nature, and his lack of confidence. At this place, a major stronghold of the mighty Mississippi, soldiers fought and died for a cause that soon died with them when the surrender was signed, but the spirit of the city did not die. Nor would he be defeated when he had not yet taken a stand and faced the enemy.

  Wade stopped in front of a hotel, which during the war had served as a hospital for wounded confederates, and decided to spend the night, caring for his wounded spirit and pride. He needed sustenance and rest, for without care he could not continue. He had accepted that his journey would lead into Texas, and he also knew that he was not even halfway to his final destination. Until this moment, he had been convinced that he would find them along the way, but now he knew that he would see it through to its entirety. Autumn was approaching, and he would need supplies for he had heard the stories of land across the Mississippi, and preparation was essential. He could push neither himself nor his horse any further, and so he conceded to his logical side, allowing himself the time to recuperate.

  He checked into the hotel and checked his horse into the stable, then went upstairs to clean up before dinner. After a long, hot bath, he lay down on his bed and immediately dozed, and before he knew it, the sun had crept into its resting place, and he had missed supper. He woke with a start, not remembering where he was, and when it came to him, he smiled, feeling as though he had slept for months. He strode down the stairs, hoping to find the kitchen still open, but he only found a tiny elderly woman, wrapped in an apron, cleaning after a long day of serving guests.

  “I don’t suppose, ma’am that you have anything left to eat.” Wade looked at her pleading.

  She wafted around for a moment, silently hoping he would leave her to finish her work, but unwilling to let the poor child starve. She saw him when he came in earlier in the day, and her heart was torn. She could not believe that any parent could allow their son to go so long without a bath or rest, and he was in obvious need of company. She had never heard his name mentioned before, so she knew he was not from around here, and she hoped desperately that he was not some child in love with the wild fantasies of Texas, for she had seen and heard, and there was no similarity between the romantic stories of the west and the tough reality of life on the plains. “I have got a little bit of food left over, but you will have to eat quickly. I have work to do.” She flittered around making him a plate of leftovers.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Wade gushed with true appreciation. The moment the plate was set before him, he began shoveling great amounts of potatoes and gravy into his mouth. It seemed like forever since he had eaten such a meal.

  “You had better slow down. I would hate to see you ill because of my cuisine.” Her eyes twinkled merrily, happy to know that she had blessed a child, and proud that he was enjoying her cooking. “So are you just passing through?” She thought that maybe striking up a conversation would slow him down a bit, but he just continued to eat, talking through the large portions of food being shoveled into his mouth.

  “I am headed west.” He kept eating, pausing only to answer her questions. “I am headed toward Texas, looking for a family. There are three people traveling together, two men and a beautiful blond girl. Would you possible remember seeing anyone like that?”

  “Not likely, child, I stay in the kitchen, although it does seem as though a few days ago I spoke to a young girl who mentioned that she was headed west to Texas as well.”

  Wade’s eyes lit up, knowing that she had seen Emily. Reassurance that she was fine relit his hope, encouraging him to continue his campaign. “How do I get across the Mississippi, by ferry?”

  Suddenly, the woman’s smi
le turned down slightly. She did not want to disappoint the boy that was so happy only seconds ago. “You will have to travel downstream for quite a ways, I imagine. For many years, we have toted people across, enjoying the bounty of the waterway, but a few months ago, the mighty Mississippi changed course, taking our harbor west. It is amazing. Sherman couldn’t defeat us, but the Mississippi has a mind of its own, and we cannot fight her.” She smiled vaguely, hiding the fear in her heart, fear that Vicksburg would fall.

  Disappointment shown on Wade’s face, but he tried to smile, making sure that she knew he was thankful for her kindness.

  “There is a positive note, however,” the lady took his plate to be carefully washed, “the next port is further south, but it does not transport across the river daily, so if you are hoping to catch up with that blond child, you can rest one more day, and still make it to her before she crosses.”

  Wade sighed a breath of relief. He wanted to stay, and needed to stay, and was appreciative for the additional time to recuperate. He thanked her once more for her graciousness and headed out the door. She smiled at him as if he were a child, “Breakfast is served at seven. Don’t be late.”

  When his head hit the sheets this time, he stared up at the ceiling for a long time, envisioning his meeting with Emily, for he was convinced that he would meet her in Natchez and stop her from crossing the Mississippi. He pictured her beautiful face shining at him with gratitude, and this time, he would not pass up the opportunity to persuade her to become his. He imagined taking her in his arms and holding her tightly, feeling her breath on his neck and her soft curls on his cheek. Their lips would meet for just a moment, and when she opened her eyes, he would look into them, whispering words of ardor, and lifting her onto Silver’s back they would ride towards the rising sun, home to Tara.

  The morning rose as light filtered in through the window, and he realized he had fallen asleep dreaming of meeting her, and a curve crossed his lips, turning up in the corners. He rose quickly for he had much to do today. He had to look dashing for their encounter, so he rushed downstairs to eat a large breakfast, and then off to purchase a few items. Strolling through the town, wares were displayed in windows, and Wade found himself staring at items he had never seen before. He purchased a pair of jeans, for he had never seen such hardy clothing, and they were perfect for the long ride home. As much as he loved his boots, he noticed they were becoming worn, and the soles were thinning, so he found another pair, close to the same style. Finally, he bought a heavy coat, for winter would be coming soon. He searched diligently for a gift for Emily, and as he searched through rows of merchants, hints of glittering jewels called to him. He wanted to supply her with every jewel in every color, but he soon found that his funds would not allow that type of purchase at this time, and he promised to find the perfect ring when they returned.

  Back in his room, he donned his new attire and checked his reflection, and he was quite taken aback by his appearance. He looked dashing and handsome, tall and sleek, and he brightened with new confidence. As he rode out of town toward Natchez, Silver seemed to strut, proud of his rider who perched himself confidently on his saddle, aware of the impression he made as people stared at him, and though the road to Natchez was long, he maintained his poise.

  He found the ferry quickly, and looked around, expecting to see Emily and her pa at any moment. Crowds of people filled the area, waiting to board the ferry, and he searched the waves of faces for familiar traits. In the midst of the crowd, Wade noticed a female form with long, flowing curls trailing down her back, and his heart began to beat wildly. He jumped off Silver and held his reins tightly as he made his way through the crowds. There she was, right in front of him. He was sure that she would turn around and fly into his arms. He looked around trying to find her pa and brothers, but they were nowhere in sight, so he continued forward, reaching out to touch her back. The tips of his fingers tingled with anticipation as they stroked her shoulder, and his voice became thick as he tried furtively to call her name. He could feel her body stiffen with his touch, and as she turned, desire filled his thoughts. He could feel his arms trembling with excitement, for he had pictured this moment for so long. He refused to let the moment escape.

  “Emily,” he called, eyes brilliant with anticipation.

  She turned to him, and he found himself staring straight into her eyes. They were eyes of emerald green, and his heart sank low, into the deepest pit. The young girl looked at him questioning silently, and he respectfully tipped his hat, disappearing into the crowd. So sure was he that he had found his true love, it did not occur to him that any other girl in the world could beguile him with long golden curls. Now, he could just continue to search, hoping to find her. The longer he looked, the more discouraged he became, and he knew that when they announced the loading ferry, he had to be on it. His journey was not over.

  Unloading on the other side of the Mississippi was frightening, for he had never truly believed he would get this far. He had heard stories of the Wild West, mostly from Tony Fontaine, and he hoped that he would not run across any savages or outlaws. The terrain was changing quickly, and he was fascinated with the towering trees; looking around he felt as though he was in a deep cave within the forest which lumbered above him. He continued riding for days without seeing towns or people as the land became less populated, and he began craving company, for though Silver was a good friend, he was not much of a conversationalist.

  The days turned colder, and he pulled his coat tighter around him, wishing that he had thought to purchase another blanket. He donned his gloves and pulled his collar closer around his ears and his hat further down on his head. Silver seemed to slow down his pace as the wind began to chill and the sun moved to the south hiding its warmth. They would huddle together at night to keep warm as they tried to rest before resuming the expedition the next morning, finding frost on everything around them. Travel was beginning to show on his face with shades of blue beneath his eyes and lines at the corners. His clothes were becoming faded and worn, and even Silver’s coat was beginning to lose its shine, for they had not eaten a full meal in over a month.

  The terrain changed, becoming drier and dustier as the trees began to thin and the wind blew freely. Continuing west, they trudged through red dirt flying through the air with only patches of green scrub to color the endless miles of drab. Turning slightly north, Wade wondered if they had come too far. Tony had described gentle rolling mountains, short greenery which left open sky where one could see for miles, and thick, natural shrubbery. Wade, however, had left the land which matched that description several days ago. The few trees were bare for they had lost their leaves to the frost, and there were no rolling hills or mountains, but miles of tall, thick brown grass, and open plains for miles in every direction. He had seen no signs of human life, and his rations were running low. Had he made a mistake? Had he come this far to perish in the forgotten wasteland that could support no man? The land seemed lonely with only the whistle of brisk wind to comfort it, blowing thick round balls of weed along its path.

  Thoughts of hopelessness clouded his mind, and he suddenly remembered the quiet utterances of Aunt Suellen’s evening prayers, and he missed them acutely. He also missed his own long discussions with the Lord that had comforted him many long nights at Tara. Comfort was a feeling he had long dismissed, and yet the need for reassurance drove him to stop and beseech guidance. As he prayed, peace fell over him, and he began to wonder if his mother had ever felt this kind of peace, and he began to ache for her as well. Their last encounter had been uncomfortable, and though he felt supreme victory then, he now felt as though he had missed his opportunity. For years he had silently craved his mother’s affection and warmth, which she could not give, and when she was ready to give it, he had dismissed it so easily.

  He wondered again if she had felt peace like he had, for he had never seen her bow her head like Aunt Suellen or display the same calm reverence that showed through Suellen, excep
t when Scarlett was around, though she had grown up under the same roof with the same spiritual guidance. It was certainly possible that she practiced her religion in privacy. That would explain her prosperity because he was convinced that the Lord blessed those who seek Him, and she was certainly blessed. He did not understand or perceive her bitter heartache, and mistook her briskness as merely her personality. That could only mean that somewhere deep inside, she must hold compassion, a deep love for all things good, but because of unfortunate circumstances she had been forced to make decisions that went against her better judgment. In this new light, he felt a renewed respect for the mother he a disregarded not long ago, and he felt sorrow for their lost relationship and the lost prospect of restoration.

  More than anything, he longed to be by her side, with her small, delicate hand tucked in the curve of his arm as they walked along surveying the land at Tara. He wished he had taken the time to rekindle their kinship, accepted her offer, and moved wherever she wanted to go, if nothing else in the slightest hope that he would learn to know her and love her in the way he had desired to know and love his mother throughout his youth. That chance was lost, but he would not make that mistake again, not with Emily. He would continue to search for her, no matter the time, and when he found her, he would never let her go. With his enhanced conviction, he bowed his head again, praying for strength and once again for guidance, a clear head, and a strong vision.

  Hearing a bellowing like that of a small child, Silver’s ears perked and headed in the direction from whence it came. When they reached the source of the noise, they found that a brambly bush had claimed a victim, a small beast with long horns, and the harder it thrashed, the more entangled it became, making it bellow even fiercer. Wade used his knife to free the young calf, and searched its body, noting cuts and scratches where it had been caught. On its hindquarters it bore the brand bar2bar, marked by its owner. He knew that owners often branded their cattle, and the brand would be displayed on the sign of the entrance to the ranch however he had not seen a ranch for miles. He tied a rope around the calf’s neck and led him on, knowing that if he could possibly return the calf, maybe he could get a good meal as a reward. Far off in the distance, a dark object blurred before him, so he headed in that direction, hoping that he was headed in the right path, knowing that the vast span of land could easily play tricks on a man’s mind.

  As he closed in, Wade saw men and animals and heard the noise of dusty tired men branding cattle, counting, herding, and rounding up for the end of another long day. When he neared the place, inscribed on a large sign across the top of the entrance through a narrow gate was the brand bar2bar and underneath read “Welcome to the Kellecee Ranch.” Stumbling nervously, he did not know how to approach the situation. Amazingly, this was the ranch that Emily had mentioned, and he knew that he had only reached this place because of divine intervention.

  He had never seen a ranch of such magnitude, and it dominated the landscape. The big house was not quite as sprawling as the house at Tara, but it was newly whitewashed and beautifully maintained. The house had been inspired by the antebellum houses of the south with large columns along the front, and shutters along each side of the abundance of windows along the sides and front of the house. The porch reached across the front of the house, and a veranda ran along the second floor. Gathering his courage, Wade entered the gate, and made his way across the yard to a man standing with his hands on his hips, supervising the movement of the cattle from a great distance. Hearing Wade approach, the man turned, and stared quizzically, for usually a cattle rustler did not return stolen property, and he had presumed this calf had been taken when they were short on their headcount the previous evening.

  Wade rode straight to the man, dismounted, and held his hand to the man introducing himself. He explained that he had found this calf along his way, and he was looking for work.

  Mr. Kellecee studied Wade closely. They would be needing hands in a few weeks, and this boy looked tired but healthy. Mr. Kellecee had been working with longhorn cattle for so many years, that he evaluated his workers by the same standards that he would choose a new breeder stock. This boy had muscle and a hard look on his face. It was obvious that he had traveled many miles, which made him a good risk, and he was young, which made him trainable. He had no experience with cattle, but if he had been able to release the calf from a bramble bush and persuade it to follow, he had a way with animals. If he could fatten him up before the spring drive, he would be a positive addition. They would need a few extra hands, for this year they were cutting a new trail, one that had been spoken of optimistically, but had been traveled for only one year. They would need plenty of hands, and if it went well, they would have a new market in Dodge City. Mr. Kellecee shook Wade’s hand, thanked him for returning the calf, and escorted him to the bunkhouse to meet the trail boss. He was hired.