The Long Trail Home (16 page)

He stopped by the window and pulled back the drapes. The electricity street lamps gave the town a dreamy glow. Very few people were on the street. The two shadowy figures that followed him and Delfy to the hotel had disappeared.

He thought about the blond waitress.
I have no idea if I'm gettin' old . . . or wise . . . or foolish . . . or moral . . . or tired . . . or biblical. It just wasn't right to let her stay. She deserves better. She should have someone take her to that dance at Fort Russell, then on a slow carriage ride home and be given a kiss at the door.

That's all.

I can't figure out why I'm thinkin' this. She's only another woman . . . another lady. It's like . . . like I'm seein' myself different. Seein' my whole life different. I don't know if it was the prison term . . . or Piney . . . or Rocklin . . . or Kiowa . . . or Rachel in Dodge City . . . or this servin' girl I've never met before in my life.

I can't believe I didn't call that loudmouth deputy out. He would have gone for his gun first: strictly self-defense. He wasn't worth it. It's like somethin' decent dies inside of me at every gunfight.

I don't have any more left to give.

If there's any redemption, I can't get worse. There will be no soul left to save.

“According unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions.”

Do you have limits on that multitude of mercies, Lord?

I reckon I used up my share years ago.

He flopped down on top of the comforter and stared up at the high, dark ceiling.

If I had to live it all over again, I would have stayed at the ranch when Mama died and insisted that we fight off the carpetbaggers. Daddy didn't have his heart in it after that. All he needed to do was admit he was wrong about the war, just say that it was good that Texas seceded, and ask me to stay and help out. That's all he needed to do, but he was too stubborn.

The cotton sheets were already damp from sweat. Sam felt no movement of air, even though the window was partially open. The room had a slight aroma of ammonia cleanser and rose tonic water.

And all I needed to do was to admit I was wrong about the war—that it hurt Texas more than it helped. But I was much too stubborn to admit that.

I still am.

And it's too late to tell him anyways.

It's been fifteen years since I took off. I'm the son that disappeared.

Lord, I'm so tired of this. Let me start all over. At least with Dacee June . . . or with Robert and Jamie Sue . . . or with whoever's left.

Jesus, I think I want to go home now.

But I don't even have a home.

Have mercy on me, O God. Have mercy on my sinful soul.

Tall, dark-haired Cyrus Edgington met him at the door. “Sam, good to see you!”

The men shook hands. Then Fortune pulled off his gray Stetson. “How's the new baby and his mama?”

“He's sleeping, and she's sore. But not nearly as sore as when Rocklin was born. Amanda intends to take lunch with us at the table.”

“She's Texas tough.”

“And Tennessee sweet.” Edgington ushered Fortune into the parlor.

“I hope she didn't try to get up and cook.”

“Listen, Sam,” Edgington put his arm around Fortune's shoulder as they strolled through the room, “because of you, lots of things are different around here since last night.”

“I hope that's good.”

“Good? It's miraculous! The bank's paid off. The lawsuit's dropped. I rehired our housekeeper. It was providential that you came to this house at the exact hour you did.”

“I always supposed the Lord has good timin'.”

“Precisely what Amanda said this morning. I'm sorry that new deputy constable hassled you at the restaurant.”

“I've been through that sort of thing before. It happens in most ever' town. He has a personal grudge. I had a run-in with a relative of his.”

“Yes, so I heard,” Edgington continued. “I talked to the mayor, and the man was dismissed this morning.”

“They fired him?”

“Personal vendettas have no place in the constable business.”

The men paused under a stained glass, electric chandelier.

“Now, he'll have twice the reason to come lookin' for me,” Sam bemoaned.

Edgington's hand waved in front of him. “You didn't have anything to do with his dismissal.”

Sam reached under his black tie and unfastened the top button of his white shirt. “I'm not sure he'll see it that way.”

“The fact remains, we can't have people using the office for personal revenge.” Cyrus Edgington motioned toward the wide, arched doorway. “I believe the ladies are waiting in the dining room.”

Propped up on two feather pillows, Amanda Edgington wore a green, satin robe, and sat at one end of the long, narrow table. In a wicker bassinet next to her, the red-faced Samuel Gabriel Edgington slept with only his head peeking out of the neatly folded covers. The captain's chair at the other end was for Mr. Edgington. Young Rocklin sat in a wooden chair straight across the table from an empty chair.

“Mr. Fortune, would you please sit there,” Amanda motioned to the chair on her right.

“Thank you, ma'am. You're looking a little stronger than yesterday evening.”

“I was a sight, wasn't I.”

“You were a bit busy.”

“I can't believe I allowed a man other than my husband to see me like that. And I cannot understand why I'm not totally embarrassed to see you today. It's as if you're part of the family. We will either have to remain very good friends, or I will have to have you shot,” she said with a wide, easy grin.

Sam laughed and sat down. “I reckon I'll choose bein' friends. But don't worry about what I did or didn't see. I was so stunned I can't remember a thing.” He surveyed the squirming, dark-haired toddler. “Good mornin', little darlin'.”

Rocklin squirreled out of her chair and toddled around the table, lifting her arms to Sam Fortune. “Carry me!” she squealed.

Amanda Edgington tried to stop her daughter's advance. “Punkin, don't bother—”

Sam plucked up the smiling toddler. “Oh, me and her are pals. Aren't we, little darlin'.”

She threw her arms around his neck and planted a very slobbery kiss on his cheek.

“Oh my, you get a kiss this morning, Mr. Fortune,” Amanda smiled.

“It's a privilege and an honor. But call me Sam. I still think of my father as Mr. Fortune.”

“Is he still living?” she asked.

Sam stared across the room at a white lace curtains in the window. “No. I don't believe he is. But, I haven't seen him in years.”

“Well, we should eat before I say something else dumb.” She looked over at her husband. “Cyrus, you can tell Rose that she may serve lunch, now.”

The fried chicken tasted crisp, yet flaky; done to the bone, yet moist. The mashed potatoes, almost whipped, yielded no hard lumps or bitter surprises. The corn, still on the cob, held small and perfectly even light yellow kernels. With each bite, hot, sweet juices delighted the tongue. The diced peaches proved ripe, but not woody or stringy. And the plum pudding, darker than mud, richer than chocolate, was covered in thick, fresh cream—ice-chilled cream.

Sam Fortune could not remember ever tasting a better meal.

At least, not since his mama died.

The conversation ranged from somber reflections of Amanda growing up without her father to the incredible future of the telephone business.

The subject that was never discussed was Sam Fortune's past.

Rocklin spent most of the meal in his lap.

“You are a natural with young children, just like my Cyrus,” Amanda insisted. “It is not every man who has such patience.”

Sam attempted to keep Rocklin bouncing on his knee while he sipped the coffee. “Well, ma'am, I've always been an easy mark for beautiful ladies with stunning smiles. Besides, I could count on one hand the number of times I've ever been allowed to hold a little one.”

“It would be a sin to waste your God-given gift. I pray you'll have a huge family someday.”

“I'm afraid I've passed up a lot of good family-raisin' years, Amanda.”

“Nonsense. No man is controlled solely by his past. He is merely limited by his fascination with it. Turn it loose, and you can do anything you want. That's what I say.”

“Tell me, Cyrus,” Sam said. “Do all women become philosophers immediately after childbirth?”

“This lady has had big thoughts all her life, Sam. It was her idea to enter into the telephone business.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked her husband.

“Never. I'll tell you straight up, Sam. This is the business of the future. You think it's in gold mines? Where are these mines going to be a hundred years from now? They'll be tapped out, every last one of them. But the telephone exchanges? Why, the day is coming when every home will have one or two, and people in Denver can pick it up and talk to someone in New York City.”

“Cyrus is quite the telephone booster,” Sam grinned.

“Daddy thought the whole thing was fascinating. He'd stare for an hour at the telephone wire, trying to figure out how they put a voice in that thing.” Amanda sighed and smiled down at little Samuel. “I do wish my father had lived long enough to see the children. It's sad for a man never to know his grandchildren.”

“That reminds me.” Sam gently put down his china cup. “I left your daddy's black leather suitcase in the parlor. I didn't go through it, so I have no idea how important the things are. I did read his Bible some, but I think I already confessed to that.”

“I want you to have it,” Amanda announced.

“Oh no, ma'am, I couldn't do that. It should be yours or the children's.”

“Sam, we have several Bibles. And one thing I know about my father is that if he knew you wanted to read it, he would have given it to you himself. It would be like him getting to help a man out, even after he was gone. He'd like that, don't you think?”

Sam rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “I reckon he would.”

“Then you'll take it?”

“Yes, ma'am, and I do appreciate it. It has been more and more useful during these last weeks. That's very generous of you. I'll take good care of it.”

“I do believe Cyrus has something else to talk to you about,” she announced.

Cyrus Edgington pushed his empty plate back and rapped his fingers on the lace tablecloth. “Sam, I think we have both expressed how grateful we are for your faithfulness in carrying out the wishes of Amanda's father. I checked with my attorney today and asked what a lawyer would have charged to settle Mr. Rocklin's estate.”

“A lawyer?” Sam asked.

“Say he had lived to a ripe old age and had a lawyer draw things up,” Edgington continued. “Well, my attorney figured a lawyer would have charged around ten percent.” He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a slip of stiff, white paper. “So we want you to have this bank check for two thousand two hundred and forty dollars.”

Sam put up his hand. “No, sir. That's mighty generous. I don't think I've ever had that much money legally in my life. I did this because Mr. Rocklin and I were friends. If I took that money, it would cloud my memory of that friendship. I could never do that.”

Cyrus Edgington winked at his wife. “Amanda told me you'd say exactly that.”

“I thought about what Daddy would have said in the same situation. I wasn't around him very often, but he was, like you, an easy man to predict. We understand and respect your feelings,” Amanda asserted

“Now, that we've dispensed with formalities . . . I have a serious business proposition to discuss,” Cyrus Edgington insisted. “Please hear me out to the conclusion. Amanda and I sat up most the night, lookin' at little Samuel Gabriel and praying about what the Lord wanted us to do next with this windfall of money you brought.”

“You two wouldn't be plottin' my future?” Sam replied.

“Hear me out. You know how I feel about the telephone business. It's a struggle to establish it, but the day is coming when it will be a more secure business than the railroads or the banks. And now is the time to break in.”

“You don't intend on offerin' me a job in Cheyenne? I've already made enemies, and I haven't even been here much more than a day.”

“Let Cyrus continue,” Amanda requested.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Sam, I want to expand my business. Yesterday, I thought I was going to lose it all. But the only way to make it really work is to expand. That means I need to develop telephone systems in other towns. But I have no intention of traveling and leaving Amanda and the children here without me. So, I don't need another employee—I need a partner. It seems like you just might be between jobs, so . . . I want you to consider taking this two thousand two hundred and forty dollars as capital if you can secure us a franchise in another town. I'll put up the seed money, you put in the work, and we're partners. We could call that venture the Edgington and Fortune Telephone Exchange.”

Sam Fortune cleared his throat, glanced at Amanda and then Cyrus. Then he started bouncing the toddler on his knee again. “I can't believe anyone treatin' me this good who has known me such a short time. It's a very temptin' offer. But I see some drawbacks. First of all, I don't know one blessed thing about a telephone, except that it got the doctor and you here in a hurry yesterday.”

“That's about all you need to know,” Amanda suggested. “Gather a few families together, and tell them your story. I guarantee every woman present will make her husband subscribe.”