Sabrina's Man (25 page)

“I guess we all know that. You know,” Silas said thoughtfully, “I heard an educated preacher once say that Job was the oldest book in the Bible, but I never really liked it.”

“What's not to like?” Gray Wolf looked up with surprise. “It's a pretty good story.”

“No, it's not. Job was a good man. As a matter of fact, the Bible says he was a perfect man and upright.”

“You can't get no better than that. I expect he went straight to heaven when he kicked off.”

“Well, it always bothered me that Job was probably the best man on the face of the earth, and God experimented with him. The devil told Him, ‘The only reason Job serves You is because You're good to him. You made him rich and gave him a family. Who wouldn't serve You?' ”

“I remember that.” Gray Wolf grinned. “God said to the devil, ‘Well, that ain't so. You just take it all away from him. Just don't touch his body.' And that's what the devil done.”

“Stripped him down to nothin'. He had everything in the first chapter and from then on out he had nothin'.”

“Makes you think, don't it?” Gray Wolf bit off a chunk of the raw venison, chewed it thoughtfully, and swallowed it. “That's good, tender venison. Let's get some of it to cookin'.”

They built a fire quickly, and as they were cooking the steaks, Silas said, “You know, makes you wonder about LeBeau. He's got everything. All the money he wants, and does what he pleases. He's a wicked, evil man, but he's got everything most men want.”

Gray Wolf looked up, and his eyes seemed to glitter. “Well, he'll lose it all one day.”

“You're right,” Silas said. “He will. We got to remember that, me and you. Them two with us, they're not Christians.”

“You figure to convert 'em?”

“Gonna do my best, Gray Wolf. You might give it a try, too.”

The sound of hoofbeats awoke Sabrina. She sat up and saw that Waco had come in. She watched as he tied his horse to a mesquite tree and got up and went to meet him. He was weary to the bone she saw, and she asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Well, sit down. Gray Wolf killed a fat deer. The best thing we've had.”

“I can use it.” He moved over toward the wagons and slumped down cross-legged, leaning back. Fatigue was in his every movement, and she knew that he was exhausted. He had slept less than any of them, and now she was well aware of the discipline that he imposed on himself. She studied the shelving jaws of his big-featured face. His eyes, she knew, were sharp with a light in them, but there was a recklessness and something in him like a hidden heat. He was a tall man, and his shoulders were broad. His high, square shape made an alert form against the shadow of the wagon. There was a toughness to him and a resilient vigor all about him. He had discipline, she knew that, and as she pulled a chunk of meat off of the grill and put it before him, she said, “There's two biscuits left from breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

Sabrina watched as he ate the meat, hungrily tearing at it with his strong white teeth, and saw that he had plenty of water. Finally she asked, “Did you find anything, Waco?”

“Not really.” He gave her a sharp look. “Are you wantin' to give up?”

“No.”

“I didn't think so.” He finished his meal, put it to one side, then came to his feet. He moved slowly at times, but there was a hint of speed and power in him. “Come along.” He walked out of the camp, and she followed him with some trepidation. He walked quickly for all his fatigue. Finally he stopped and said, “Look at that.”

It was growing darker, but she moved closer and saw a stone flat and upright. “That looks like a tombstone,” she said.

“That's what it was, but the wind and the sand and the rain have eaten it all away. Look. Whoever buried him made an outline of where the coffin is.” He pointed down, and Sabrina saw that there were a few stones that marked a rectangle. She watched as Waco suddenly moved forward. He began to pull his boot through the line of stones, digging a little trench. When he had gotten all around it, he kicked the stones back in the trench.

She could stand it no longer. “What are you doing, Waco?”

“Don't know. Maybe trying to put off what has to come.”

“Like what?”

“Whoever this is, they had the same kind of dreams I have, I expect. Maybe a husband that found a wife and loved her. Maybe a wife that found a husband, but she only made it this far. I don't know. It makes me sad.”

“You didn't know whoever it is.”

“No, that's true,” he said slowly, and she could see he was thinking deeply. “But whoever it is, when they were alive, they have the same hungers I do and the same problems probably. Maybe it was a husband whose life was cut short. His wife had to bury him out here in this wilderness.”

“Could have been a woman.”

“That would be even sadder to me.” He began to move away from her and traced the line of small stones that marked the grave into a trench with the toe of his boot. Then he carefully put the stones back in there.

When he stood up, she asked, “Why did you do that, Waco?”

“Don't know. Feel sort of down, I guess.”

Suddenly she said, “Waco, I wish you could put that behind you. If you don't, you'll be like those men who took Marianne. Like you say LeBeau is. I wouldn't want you to be that kind of a man. Don't nurse grudges and hate until you are rank inside. You'll be your own worst enemy. You weren't meant to snarl at the world, be against people, be cruel.”

He took her hand and looked into her face. “When you lose something it hurts.”

“You're thinking about the woman who ran out on you.”

“Guess I'll never forget her. How she betrayed me.”

Again a wave of pity came as Sabrina was very much aware of his hand, the warmth and the strength of it. “I'm sorry, Waco.”

He shook his head. “Funny thing, Sabrina. I haven't been thinking much about the hurts of other people. Too busy pitying myself—but I hate to see you hurting over your sister.”

Sabrina did not know what was happening, but she waited there, saying nothing, when suddenly he reached out and pulled her to him. He put his arms around her, and she looked up at him. The feeling of his kiss went through her, and it was a goodness without shame. She was stirred and did not know why it was, but it was what she wanted. She felt the luxury of it as well as he.

She felt that Waco was on the near edge of rashness. His impulses were clear. He was a strong man, and she was a beautiful woman. She saw the battle take place, and then with some sort of joy, she saw him shake his head and step back. “I'll do my best for you, Sabrina, to find your sister. . .even if I have to die for it.”

The deer meat was about gone, and that night it was Waco who said, “We're going to have to go get more grub. We're worn down to nothing.”

It was night, and they had just eaten the last of the canned beans they had brought along with the last small chunks of bacon. They hungered for bread, for something solid.

Silas had been quiet, and as they sat there finishing their meal, he said, “You know, I still miss my wife, Lottie.”

“How'd you meet her, Silas?” Sabrina smiled.

“Well, I was no good, but I took one look at her and fell in love with her just like in the storybooks. She wouldn't have anything to do with me. I'm glad she wouldn't. She was a pure woman.”

“Well, how did you ever get her to marry you?”

“I went off and I looked for God. I had some trouble there,” Silas said thoughtfully. “I signed a trade with God. I'll be a good man if You give me that woman. I found out pretty soon you don't do business with God like that. Finally I said, ‘God, whether You ever give me Lottie or not, I'll serve you.' So I got saved out behind the church with the service goin' on. I was too ashamed to go in, so I listened to the singin' and the preachin'. When the preacher made an altar call, I went in. Been servin' Jesus ever since.” He turned and said, “Gray Wolf, how'd you find Jesus?”

Gray Wolf had been listening carefully. He grinned, and it softened his features. “I was a real bad man. I was on a horse-stealing raid and got captured. The chief was a tough hombre. I was on the ground tied, and he had a spear in his hand. He lifted it up, and I knew he was going to run it through my heart.” He grew quiet then.

Finally Waco said, “Well, he didn't kill you obviously.”

“No, he didn't. He stood there looking at me, and something came into his eyes. He had hard eyes, I tell you, that Indian did! But after a while he threw his spear down and walked away. I couldn't understand why he let me live. For a long time I wondered about it, but I know one thing. . .only God could have made that man spare me. So I promised I'd live like a Christian.”

Silas said, “I'm going to tell you two sinners how to get saved.”

“That's what I like. You're a real Southerner with your preachin'.” Waco grinned. “Go ahead. Turn your wolf loose.”

Silas began to quote Scriptures, almost all of them about the death of Jesus. “It's His blood that washes us from sin. The Bible says God puts our sins behind His back. He blots 'em out of the Book. We become a part of His family, and all you have to do is give Him everything you've got, which most people can't do,” Silas said.

He spoke for a long time, and finally Sabrina was forced to admit, “I don't know what he's talking about. I've been going to church all of my life, but I don't have anything in me like Gray Wolf and Silas.”

The next day they pulled out, and as they did, Sabrina turned to Waco and said, “What did you think about what Silas said?”

“Funny you should ask,” Waco said. “I'm a pretty hard nut, but I can't forget what he said about Jesus.”

“Do you think you'll ever be a man of God?”

Waco dropped his head. “I hope so,” he whispered.

H
eat lay like a thin film in the windless air as Sabrina stood with her back to the campsite looking out into the distance. The sun was a white hole in the sky, and the deep haze of summer had lightened so that the land was a tawny floor running immeasurably away into the distance. The Territory frightened her, for it was not the kind of climate or the kind of world that she had been born into. There was no security in this land. None by day and none by night. It was a country of extremes, of long silence and sudden wild crying, a bone-searching dryness followed by a sudden rush of cloudburst torrents down in the narrow canyons. It was raw and primitive, and she had already seen it scoured the softness out of a man and made him into something sometimes frightening.

“I've been wanting to talk to you, Sabrina, about Marianne.”

Instantly Sabrina turned to him, for she heard a somber tone in his voice. “What is it? What do you want to tell me?”

“I don't think you're going to be happy, Sabrina, even if we find her.” There wasn't the faintest hint of tension in his body or voice. “I think we'll find her,” he said finally. “But you come from a family that's well off, and your parents are religious people. Well—”