The Listening Sky (25 page)

“How are ya knowin’ that?”

“My maw died, then my paw. I thought I’d cry my eyes out at first. But a body’s got to live on and make the best of it.”

“Yo’re awful smart Polly.”

“I ain’t half as smart as ya are.”

“Bullfoot! I can do one thing real good and that’s all.”

“That’s not so—”

He turned her around with his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face.

“The thing I’m best at doin’ is pullin’ my gun, shootin’ and hittin’ what I shoot at.”

“That’s a good thin’ to be good at.”

“I got me a gun. Stole it off a old drunk who’d kicked me outta the livery. I pert nigh froze to death that night. I told
myself it’d not happen again and it didn’t. I practiced and practiced. I just got tired of eatin’ ever’body’s dirt, gettin’
called a stray, a woods-colt, a good-for-nothin’ clabber-head. I was big, even as a kid. But I warn’t a man yet.” He said
this in a rush, as if he were in a hurry to get it out.

“Ah, Herb. Ya’ve had it rougher’n me. How old was ya when ya decided all this?”

“I was about ten or twelve. I can’t even swear how old I am if ya get right down to it. Nobody ever told me. When I first
met Doc, he thought I was fourteen or fifteen. I took that to be my age. I’m twenty now.”

“Ya’ve done good, Herb. Ya raised yoreself till ya met Doc.”

“I couldn’t write my name. Doc said I had to if I was goin’ to trail with him. I did it. Did it damn quick. I didn’t want
to lose Doc.”

She laughed. “I betcha ya can do anythin’ ya set yore mind to.”

“Polly? Doc told me to settle down, get a wife and a bunch a young ‘uns. I told him I was goin’ to ask ya… if ya’d have me.”

She stood silently with bowed head.

“Polly?” He lifted her chin with shaking fingers. “Don’t ya want to?”

Her big eyes filled with tears. She tried to speak and choked back a sob. Then tried again.

“Do… ya know?”

“About what was done to ya? Miss Jane told me ‘cause she wanted me to look out for ya after she goes.”

“Ya know I’m… I’m… goin’ to have—?”

“I know it,” he said quickly. “If I ever set eyes on who done it, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh, no… no. Please—”

Herb drew in a deep breath. “Ya like him?

“I despise him! He’s mean. I’m afraid he’ll hurt you.” Herb’s arms moved around her, and he hugged her to him.

“The only way he’d hurt me is to shoot me in the back.” He chuckled.

“Don’t ya dare laugh about such a thin’.”

“Polly… little Polly. I been thinkin’ ‘bout ya since that first day. Yo’re so pretty.” He touched her temples with his fingertips.
“Yore hair is soft. I like it when ya let the braid hang down yore back. Yore eyes are pretty, too. I just can’t keep myself
from lookin’ at ya. Polly,” he whispered, his palms on her cheeks holding her face up to his, “Do ya think ya could put up
with me?”

“What about… it?”

“The babe? Don’t ya think I’d make a good papa?”

“It wouldn’t be… yores.”

“Only if ya didn’t want it to be mine. I wasn’t Doc’s but I felt like I was.”

“I’d not want ya to… hate it. It wasn’t its fault.”

“Why’d I do that? The bastard just planted the seed. I’ll raise it. It’ll be mine. Don’t ya want to wed me?”

“I want it more’n anythin’ in the world.”

“Can I kiss ya? I been wantin’ to since that day ya swooned and I carried ya to the bed.”

“I ain’t sure I know how.”

“Me neither.” He chuckled. “I kissed a saloon gal once. Don’t think she wanted me to, but I wanted to know why folks sneak
around to do it.”

“Did ya find out?”

“It wasn’t what I thought it’d be. I never wanted to do it again till I saw you.”

“I’d like ya to kiss me, Herb.”

Polly closed her eyes when his fingers lifted her chin and his lips softly met hers. She felt her insides warm with pleasure
and allowed herself the pure joy of feeling his nose against her cheek and the rough drag of the whiskers on his chin. His
mouth was warm and careful with hers. She felt none of the panic she had felt before when the freighter had come to her room
and grabbed her. This was different. A lovely feeling unfolded in her midsection and traveled slowly through her body.

She wanted it to last forever. His lips moved against hers ever so slightly. He held her gently as if she were something so
fragile she would break. His mouth left hers and moved to her cheeks, her brows, and touched her closed eyelids. She leaned
against him, her arms finding their way around him. A surge of pleasure rushed through her when his lips returned to hers
and she heard the soft moan that came from her throat.

Herb lifted his head and looked down at her.

“Did ya like it?”

“Oh, yes. I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“I wasn’t too rough? I’m so big. Yo’re so little.”

“Ya wasn’t rough.” She reached for his face with her hands and stroked his cheeks with her palms. “Yo’re sweeter than I ever
thought a man could be. I didn’t want ya to stop.”

“Ya mean that?”

“’Course, I do, silly.”

“Ya liked it?”

“I liked it a lot.”

“Polly, sweet Polly. I like ever’thing about ya.” His arms tightened and he hugged her to him fiercely, then let her go. “I
got to be careful not to hurt ya. I like to hold ya. It makes me feel like I could… whip ever’ man in this town with a willow
switch.”

Her laugh was soft and just for him.

“Ya can!” she said staunchly. “Ya can do anythin’ ya want.”

“Polly—” He held her away from him and looked earnestly into her face. “I don’t have much in the way a money. I’m plannin’
on askin’ T.C. and Colin to take me on to work at their place. I ain’t a town man. I stayed in town with Doc, but I want a
little place where I can run a few cows and maybe horses—”

“Whatever ya do is all right.”

“Ya sure? There ain’t much in the way of company on a ranch, but we could visit a town once in a while.”

“I won’t miss town. I’ll have you, Herb.”

“Ah, Polly, when I look at ya, my insides gets all shaky. I swear ta ya, I’ll take care a ya the best I know how.”

His arms held her gently. She nestled in the warm protection of his embrace and crooned to him.

“I’ll take care of ya, too, my sweet man. Ya’ll not be by yoreself ever again.”

J
ANE
did not know if she was awake or asleep. She opened her eyes and saw nothing but darkness. Her head pounded with a pain that
throbbed through every part of her body. She gradually became aware that she was sitting on the floor, her back and head leaning
against something hard. Her legs, folded beneath her, began to cramp. She tried to straighten them and discovered she was
in a small boxed-in place.

As her mind cleared the stench of the- outhouse was strong and repugnant. She realized where she was. But what was she doing
on the floor between the seat and the door? She tried to get up from her cramped position. Her head seemed to weigh a ton.
Her hand reached out for something to pull on and found a rough board, but her strength was gone and her head felt as if it
were being pounded on with a hammer.

She sank back down and put her hand to her face to pull away whatever it was that clung to her cheeks. Her fingers slid across
her face and followed the thick substance into her hair.

When she realized what her fingers were trailing through, waves of shock, terror and nausea swept over her. The heavy cloud
of horror that dropped around her came close to robbing her of her senses. She grabbed at her skirt to wipe away the bodily
waste from the cesspit, only to discover that it was not only on her face, but on her hands, her arms, and her clothing.

Sobbing with terror and shame, Jane slid down onto the floor of the privy. She drew her knees up to her chest. Hysteria spread
through her brain like a vicious serpent, engulfing her. It was more than she could endure. She slipped back into blessed
darkness.

T.C. sat at Doc’s desk in the surgery and listened for any sound of movement upstairs. Maude had been in the kitchen when
he returned to the house and told him Jane had gone to bed. He had feared she would not be here.

The lamp shone down on his dark head as he bent over the papers he had taken from the leather folder Doc had entrusted to
his care. He finally put them aside and leaned back in the chair. He couldn’t concentrate on figures and legal documents when
his mind was awash with thoughts of Jane and her odd behavior.

His father had insisted that he leave the Wyoming Territory and see some of the world before he settled down. He had visited
the big cities in the east, had traveled across the ocean to London and Paris. While in that dazzling city, he had decided
that there was no place he’d rather be than home.

T.C. had been a lumberjack, a drover, a teamster and a lawman and had spent some time at law school. He had met women of all
types, from society matrons and their pretty but useless daughters to ranch and farm women who were as handy as their men
with a gun. Not one of them had even come close to tying him in knots as Jane was doing. There was an indefinable something
between him and the prim Miss Jane Love. He wanted to be with her every moment. At night he lay awake thinking about her.

He was reasonably sure she felt the same. She had melted against him when he kissed her. Her mouth had clung sweetly to his.
A woman would not kiss a man as she had done if there were not some feeling involved.

T.C. had tried to tell himself that his fascination with her was due to the pleasure it gave him to tease her. She had a sassy
way when she got her back up. He’d always gotten along with women, what few he’d had to deal with. As a rule they liked him
well enough—all but Patrice, and he knew well the reason for that. At one time he had dealt a blow to her pride and she had
turned her charms on Colin.

The door squeaked open and he heard Herb’s voice, then Polly’s. They came down the hall and soon were standing in the doorway,
Herb behind Polly, his hands on her shoulders.

“Me and Polly’s gettin’ married.” Herb blurted out the news. His face was wreathed in smiles, Polly’s beet-red.

“Well, now. Congratulations.” T.C. stood and held out his hand. Herb reached around Polly to grasp it eagerly. “When will
this happy event take place?”

“As soon as I can talk to the preacher. I’m not wantin’ folks to get the idea… that Polly’s babe ain’t mine,” Herb explained
in his blunt way. He glanced down when Polly’s elbow dug into his stomach. “T.C. knows ‘bout it, honey-girl.”

Polly was staring at the floor. She looked as if she were about to burst into tears.

“No one knows but me and Jane and maybe Sunday. You’re getting a good man, Polly. I’ve known Herb for more than three years.
One bad thing about this fellow you’d better look out for. He’s the worst dang-blasted cook that ever slapped a skillet over
a fire.”

Polly raised tear-bright eyes.

“I ain’t got no doubt at all that he’s a good man. He won’t have to cook. I can cook as good a meal as ya ever et if I got
the stuff to do it with.”

Herb’s big hands squeezed her arms. He laughed in her ear. He seemed not to mind at all that T.C. watched as he lovingly nuzzled
his nose into her hair.

“Ya better run on up to bed, little love. We got plans to make tomorrow and I got a thin’ to talk over with T.C.”

Polly turned to leave, then turned back to ask, “Did Jane go to the other… place to sleep?”

“She’s still here.”

“I was scared she’d go.”

“So was I,” T.C. muttered the words as Herb walked with Polly to the foot of the stairs.

He sat back down in the chair. He had papers to sort out before he could put down figures. He wished Jane were here to help
him; but as she was involved, it was best he do this first part alone. He folded the papers and placed them in a drawer of
the desk and waited for Herb to come back in. He was reasonably sure he knew what Herb wanted to talk about.

Polly went up the stairs wondering if it was sinful to be so happy on the day they had buried Dr. Foote, the man Herb thought
the world of. Even if Jane was asleep, she would wake her and tell her the news. She had to share this miracle or she would
burst!

The room was as dark as the night when she entered. Moving slowly with her hands in front of her, she felt her way to the
end of the bed. Her toe connected with something hard. She stumbled and caught herself on the iron bedstead. She paused to
consider if she should light the lamp. She desperately needed to use the chamber pot and it was somewhere under the bed. Holding
on to the bedstead, Polly moved back along it until she could reach out and touch the bureau that held the lamp.

A minute later, with the light from the lamp illuminating the room, she turned back to the bed to get the chamber pot.

Jane was not in the bed!

With a frown puckering her brow, she used the pot. It was a blessed relief to empty her full bladder. When she finished she
replaced the lid and pushed the pot back under the bed. It was then that she noticed Jane’s nightdress lying at the foot.
All of her things except for her shawl were packed in the closed suitcase.

Polly began to worry. It was not like Jane to be away from the house, especially at night. Polly went into the hall and stood
for a moment outside Doc’s old room. A light shone under the door and she heard Maude’s voice. She knocked softly. Maude opened
the door.

“Is Jane in here?”

“No. She went to bed quite a while ago.”

“She ain’t there. Her nightdress is on the bed. If she’d gone to stay with Sunday, she’d a took it and her other things.”

“Is she downstairs?”

“I don’t think so.”

“She may be in the kitchen—”

“No light was on.”

Maude came out into the hall, crossed it and looked into the room.

“The last I saw of her was when Stella and I came. She said she was going to the outhouse and then to bed. She may be with
Mr. Kilkenny.”

“She ain’t. She’d not go out at night and not tell nobody. She’s scared to be out at night.”