Squire's Quest Page 3

  "No sense in carryin' a knife that's not sharp,'" was all he said, and tossed the gunnysack on the bed. "Sit. We've got some talking to do."

  Callie glared at him for a full minute before moving to the bed and slowly lowering herself on its edge. "What about?"

  Merlin leaned back against the closed door. "First off, you're a girl."

  She jumped to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. "I ain't neither!"

  "Sure you are. It doesn't make any difference to me, except I want your promise that'll be the last lie you'll tell me. I don't hanker to travel with someone I can't trust." He returned her stare until she more or less wilted. "Sit."

  She sat. "I'd'a been dumb to let anybody know," she muttered, almost too low for him to hear.

  "Yes, you would've. What else did you lie about?"

  She glanced up quickly, surprise writ plain on her face, at his agreement. The next moment her expression went sullen again. "Nothin'."

  "Your pa really is in Virginia City?"

  She stuck out her bottom lip and nodded slightly.

  "Where's your ma?"

  "Dead." Barely a whisper. "Last summer."

  He swallowed the words of sympathy. Sometimes they hurt more than was good for a person. "Where?"

  "Iowa. We were livin' with Ma's brother. I could've stayed, but..."

  "But you wanted to be with your pa. I can understand that. How'd you get this far?"

  "I took the train." She looked away, then back at him. Her chin went up. "Far as Evanston, when somebody stole my valise. After that I rode in the freight cars. Sometimes there were tramps and I had to hide. It was..." She shuddered. "I was scared." The last words were a bare whisper.

  Just thinking about what could have happened to her sent cold chills down his backbone. Merlin tried to imagine his sisters doing what Cal had done. After a moment, he chuckled.

  "It wasn't funny!"

  "No, it wasn't. I was just reminded... Never mind. Look, we need to get going. There's socks and a shirt in the bag. Too big for you, but you can make do. The shirt's probably long enough to be a skirt, but your britches are baggy enough that won't matter. "

  "For me?"

  "They're too little for me." He'd bought the smallest of everything the store had. "I'll be down in the eating house. Wash your feet first."

  She was already digging into the gunnysack when he pulled the door closed behind him.

  * * * *

  The eating house was surprisingly big for such a small settlement, but this late in the morning it was empty. When he shut the door behind him, the same woman who'd served his supper stepped out of the kitchen. "Breakfast's over."

  He removed his hat and smiled his best. "I was afraid of that, ma'am. I had some business to take care of this morning and it got late. Any chance of getting an early dinner?"

  "I suppose we could oblige you, if you'll settle for beef and beans."

  "That sounds just fine. My partner will be along pretty quick."

  "Coffee's on the stove. Help yourself and take a seat." She stepped back into the kitchen.

  The coffee was hot and strong, like Pa made it. He shed his coat and leaned back so he could look out the fly-specked window. Not much going on in Eagle Rock this morning. Two women, neat and tidy and not too young, went past, carrying baskets on their arms. Headed for the general store, he guessed. A skinny fellow in a sheepskin coat strolled along the opposite side of the rutted street, carrying a shotgun. The law? I'll bet.

  He'd finished one cup of coffee and had just poured a second when Cal appeared. She hesitated before opening the door, until she saw him. He almost laughed aloud when she came in.

  The too-long shirt was stuffed into her britches, but its tails were all wadded up and made a bulge around her middle. She'd slicked her spiky hair down with water, but already some was standing on end. Her boots were unlaced and clumped with every step. But her face was shiny clean and her coat looked like she'd tried to wipe the worst of the stains from it. He hoped she hadn't left it so damp it wouldn't keep her warm.

  She'd no sooner sat than the woman brought out two plates holding steaks and fried potatoes.

  "It warn't no trouble," she said when Merlin thanked her. Back into the kitchen she went and quickly returned with bowls full of beans cooked with bacon.

  He looked across the table. Cal looked about ready to cry. "Eat," he told her, gently, "but take it slow. Gobble it down, and you're likely to lose it." How long had it been since she'd had a decent meal? There sure wasn't much skin on her bones.

  * * * *

  "You can't ride a horse? I never heard the like."

  "Pa's... Pa was a clerk before he went off to the War." She eyed the molly cautiously. "I reckon I could learn. It don't look all that hard."

  "I reckon you'll have to. Bul's too fractious for you, and Cap's never been trained to saddle."

  That'll slow us down some. Her arse'll be sore as a boil come evening, unless she walks partway.

  "Take the blanket off the molly. You'll need a saddle to hang on to 'til you learn how." He removed his rifle from its scabbard and lay it aside, then hung the stirrup on the horn and went to undoing the cinch.

  I could've turned her loose. She's no responsibility of mine. God almighty, we'll be forever, getting to Virginia City. And how do I know her pa's really there, anyhow?

  When he turned back, he saw her still standing about six feet from the molly, and the blanket still strapped on. "Oh, for the love of God!" When the animal tried to sidle away, he wondered if the hostler had lied about her being saddle broke.

  Eventually all three animals were ready. He'd double-checked the packs Cap carried, and showed Cal how to use the bridle. The molly stood relaxed, her head down, and one rear foot cocked, but Cal sat stiff as a board in the saddle. Holding both leadlines, Merlin mounted, clumsily. Trouble with using a pad instead of a saddle was there was no place to tie stuff. Good thing his rifle had a sling. "Let's go."

  The look on Cal's face was almost enough to make him bust out laughing. The girl who'd hopped freights, who'd walked a couple hundred miles, was scared to death of a scrawny molly. He waited until they were clear of town before he rode up beside her and said, "What are you going to name her?"

  Callie's head didn't turn at all. She licked her lips, and her voice was squeaky when she said, on her third try, "Name? Who?"

  "Your molly. Seems a shame not to give her a name."

  This time her head turned a little bit. He caught a brief glimpse of green in the corner of her eye. "I thought it was Molly."

  "Nope. She's a molly. That's M-O-L-L-Y. Female mule." Merlin's brother-in-law, who bred mules, was real particularly about what his stock was called. Cap--short for Captain--was a john, also the offspring of a jackass and a mare. Luke didn't hold with breeding stallions to asses, because too many of the births were complicated.

  "Oh." Cal didn't say anything for a while. "Ruth."

  "Huh?"

  "That's what her name is. Ma used to tell me a story about a woman named Ruth. She went somewheres and settled down."

  There was longing in her voice, like settling down was what she wanted more than anything.

  * * * *

  By the time Merlin called a rest stop, Callie's bottom was sore as the time Pa had whipped her for swimming in the creek after he'd told her it was running too high. She couldn't even get her leg over the saddle, so she sat there, like a lump, until Merlin came and lifted her down.

  "Walk around a bit. You'll feel better."

  If he'd laughed at her, she might have killed him. She hobbled past Ruth's head, toward the line of willows off to the side. By the time she finished her business, her legs were working a little better. "How much farther today?"

  "Another ten miles. We'll take it easy until you're accustomed to riding."

  She couldn't hold back the groan.

  "Don't worry, We'll walk after we've been here long enough for the stock to graze. The grass is about done for, and I wa
nt to use it where I can." He untied his bedroll from behind the saddle and tossed it to the ground. "Rest yourself. Sleep if you want."

  Tears threatened to clog her throat. Pa wouldn't have been so kind. He'd always been real strict about not giving in to the body's weakness. She opened the bedroll halfway and sank onto it gratefully. "I'm obliged," she said, and hoped he hadn't heard the sob she near choked on.

  This is plumb crazy. Nothin' that's happened to me up 'til now made me cry. He's bein' nice, and I want to howl like a cranky babe.

  She woke up when he nudged her with his foot.

  "Time to go."

  The sun was halfway down the sky, a bright shape behind thin clouds. Back home she'd be thinking snow was on its way. A shiver made its way down her backbone. What was it going to be like when it did snow, with no roof over them? I could've stayed with Uncle Walt and Aunt Sadie. They would have worked her hard for her keep, but wasn't walkin' miles and miles a day work? Wasn't sittin' on a horse until your backside hurt so bad you wanted to cry?

  She helped him load their gear. When he took hold of his horse's halter and started walking, she fell in behind him. What a strange man. So far he hadn't asked anything of her but that she tell him the truth.

  They camped that night in a willow thicket beside a narrow creek. Merlin had been picking up wood as they walked, loading it into a gunnysack attached to Cap's packsaddle. He used it to build a small fire, just big enough to heat water in a small pail. Once it was boiling, he put a square of something brown and crumbly into it, then shaved a chunk of dried meat into small strips and added them. From his coat pocket, he pulled an oilskin packet and added its contents--chunks of carrots and what looked like either parsnips or potatoes.

  When she saw him watching, he said, "Soup. There's bread in my saddlebag. We'll use it while it's fresh."

  It was full dark when they finished eating. She took the plate and cup they'd taken turns eating from to the creek and scoured them both with sand. For a while he read from the same book as the night before. Callie wished he'd go back to the beginning so she'd know what had already gone on, but she didn't want to ask. In her experience, menfolks did what they pleased and didn't like women pecking at them to do different.

  When she came back from the bushes, ready to sleep the night through, Merlin was just coming back from the creek, leading all three horses...mules...animals. She staggered a little on the rocky ground, but kept herself upright until she reached the bedroll. With a sigh of relief, she collapsed on it and reached to unlace her boots.

  "The other side's yours. I want you between me and the stock."

  "Other side?"

  "Of the bed. Scooch over."

  "You're going to sleep here? But--"

  "Well consarn it, Cal, where'd you figure I'd sleep? I wasn't able to buy another tarpaulin. That blanket won't do you a lot of good all by itself."

  Hands shaking, she finished removing her boots. She'd planned to use her coat for a pillow, but instead she left it on. It wasn't exactly armor, but she felt safer fully clothed. Boots in hand, she crawled across the tarpaulin, but couldn't bring herself to crawl under it.

  Merlin sat where she'd been and removed his moccasins, tucking them under the top edge of the canvas. Next he took off the heavy canvas coat and rolled it into a pillow shape.

  "Use your coat for a pillow. That way if you get cold and need to put it on, it'll be warm." He didn't turn around, even when he eased himself under the layers of wool and canvas, to lie on his side, his back to her. "Good night."

  Cautiously she worked her way into the very edge of the bedroll. The wool blanket he'd bought for her was folded in half, with the fold to the inside. She wrapped it around herself and tried not to listen to him breathing.

  Her ma had cautioned her against immodest behavior and misplaced trust. Men, Ma had said, were slaves to their urges and a good woman had to be ever vigilant.

  She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be vigilant against, but the hunger she'd seen in the eyes of one of the tramps who'd chased her had scared her silly.

  She hadn't seen that hunger in Merlin. But she still couldn't relax, even though she did sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Merlin was relieved to see Cal riding easier the second day. He still limited her time in the saddle to two hours in the morning, but after their nooning, he put her back on Ruth for an hour. That evening she dismounted all by herself, even though she fell in a heap when her feet hit the ground.

  She got right up, though, and went to work, helping set up camp.

  She's every bit as tough as Katie and Reggie. No wonder she made it this far on her own.

  After supper he pulled out his book and read a few pages, but soon sighed and put it back into the saddlebag. Reading by firelight was just too much work.

  "Do you know lots of stories? The way you read and all?"

  "A fair number, I guess?"

  Cal tucked the plate and cup into the pack and sat down next to him. Not too close, but not as far away as yesterday. "Can you tell me one? A real exciting one?"

  The littles--his younger brother and sister and Micah King--had always liked the stories he told them. "I supposed I could. You want a love story or a fight story?"

  "Can it be both?"

  "I reckon." He sat back and thought a bit. "A long time ago there was a great king named Arthur. He believed right was worth fighting for, so he called together the bravest men in the world and made them knights."

  "Knights? You mean he turned them into something like stars?"

  "No. A knight is a special kind of soldier. A good man who defends the innocent, protects the helpless, fights injustice. And he goes on a quest to prove his bravery."

  "Ohh. Like you."

  "No, not like me. I'm no knight."

  "You defended me, and you protected me. That makes you a knight."

  Shaking his head, he sought the words to explain the difference between him and a true knight. He'd got as far as "...proving his strength and purity," when she giggled.

  "Well, maybe you're not a knight yet, but I'll bet you will be someday. 'Less you turn bad."

  "Perhaps you're right. I'm going to try." The thought appealed to him. "I guess you'd call me sort of a squire now. That's somebody who's learning to be a knight." Leaning forward, he pushed a long stick farther into the fire. "And I guess I am on a quest. I'll have to think about it."

  "While you're thinking, will you tell me that story now?"

  He sat back against his saddle and spun a tale of valiant men who performed brave deeds. After a while he noticed her head drooping. He spoke her name in the same tone he'd been using for his tale. When she didn't stir, he fell silent.

  He didn't have a knight to learn from and to serve, but that didn't mean he couldn't teach himself what he needed to know. The important thing was to follow the ideals of Arthur's knights.

  * * * *

  Merlin kept an eye on the sky. He could smell the snow, but so far he hadn't seen it, save on the higher hills. That was fine with him. The longer it held off, the sooner they'd catch up with the freighters.

  Cal was up to two hours on horseback morning and afternoon. She still moved real slow when she dismounted, but at least now she could walk at the end of the day.

  I must be plumb crazy, setting out on a strange trail with a tenderfoot. A girl tenderfoot, at that. But what else was I to do? I couldn't leave her in Eagle Rock, and I wasn't gonna take her home to Ma.

  He eyed the sky again. Time to start looking for a campsite, one the freighters used regularly, if he had his druthers. They usually left some firewood behind and nearly always a source of fresh water was nearby. He was starting to wish he'd brought a tent, though. He'd slept in snow more times than he'd liked, but Cal... She was a tough little thing, but she was still not used to living rough.

  The sun was already behind the hills when the ruts they'd been following split, with some leading off to the left. A few hundred yards from the tra
il, he found just what he was looking for. There was even a rude shed, open on two sides, but with a good roof, big enough to hold their bedroll and the stock.

  He unsaddled Ruth and Cap, removed the pad from Bul's back. Because he had only one brush, Cal did the grooming while he got a fire started and set up for cooking. She seemed to have got over her fear of the stock, although he'd noticed she still moved real careful around Bul. And well she should. He was a temperamental sort, inclined to bite when a body wasn't watching.

  She hummed while she groomed, something she'd only started doing the last couple of days. The sound of it was comforting, and he found himself trying to put a name to the tune. Maybe he'd been listening too hard, because a clatter of rock against rock was the first he knew they had company. He reached for his rifle, never far from his hand.

  "Hello the camp."

  Slowly Merlin stood and turned. His pa had taught him a man was safer to act deliberate than to let himself be hurried.

  One man on horseback. That's all he saw, but there could be a dozen just out of sight. He stood still, waiting.

  "I'm peaceful," the fellow said, "and alone. Trying to catch up with a string of freighters. I didn't figure you were them, unless they ran into trouble. But this is our regular camp. "

  Merlin knew he had no choice but to invite the fellow to share their camp. "Come on in, then. I was just about to put on the coffee."

  "I've got provisions, glad to share." He dismounted and led his horse, a handsome pinto, toward the shelter. "Mind if I put Boo-koo inside?"

  "We were planning to spread our beds there," Merlin said. He looked upwards. The sky was still overcast, and the air was almost comfortable. "Let's move all the stock out and hobble them. We might as well sleep warm."

  "Fair enough. I'll take first watch. There's bear and panther about."

  They put together a fair supper, pausing long enough to pour the strong coffee and relax while sipping. Merlin's cup was half empty when Cal finished with the stock and came toward the fire. He'd noticed her humming had ceased when the fellow rode in. She hunkered down a ways from the fire and eyed him suspiciously.

  "I'm Murphy Creek," the stranger said. "Teamster, guide, jack of all trades. I work for the freight line into Alder Gulch. One of our drivers is needed at home. I'll replace him."