Badger Boy by Elmer Kelton

Author:Elmer Kelton [Kelton, Elmer]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Westerns, Fiction
ISBN: 9780812577501
Publisher: Doherty, Tom Associates, LLC
Published: 2002-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

· CHAPTER TEN·

The Monahans' new house was simple, constructed of logs and built in the traditional double-cabin fashion with an open dog run between the sections, much like Rusty's own. Clemmie's reaction could not have been more enthusiastic if it had been the governor's mansion. She leaned forward on the wagon seat, straining to see better.

"We're home, children," she exclaimed to her daughters.

Josie sat on her horse beside Rusty's Alamo. She had contrived to ride near him most of the trip. She said, "We're not children. At least I'm not."

She was not, though Rusty thought she would probably always seem that way to her mother. She was blossoming into a handsome young woman.

Some of the older mares had seemed to perk up during the last miles of the trip. They held their heads higher and quickened the pace.

James said, "They remember. They're glad to get back."

Vince Purdy had told Rusty a few mares had caused problems in the first weeks after the original move down to Rusty's farm. They kept trying to return north to what had been their home. They became accustomed to their new range after a time but evidently never forgot where they came from. One problem now, for a time at least, would he to keep younger mares from trying to return south to the Colorado River. Horses had been known to travel hundreds of miles, following their instincts to go back where they came from. Occasionally a horse stolen by Indians would escape and turn up at the home corral weeks or even months later.

Rusty looked hopefully toward the open dog run, thinking Geneva might walk out to greet her mother and sisters. He burned to see her. But the only person he saw was a man he realized must be her husband. Evan Gifford opened a corral gate to receive the mares, then strode toward the wagons with a hand raised in welcome.

Josie said, "You'll like Evan."

Rusty doubted it.

"You-all light and hitch," Gifford shouted. He raised his arms to help his mother-in-law, and then Alice, down from the wagon. Rusty studied him, hoping to find something to dislike but seeing nothing beyond the fact that he had won Geneva while Rusty was busy elsewhere. Gifford appeared to be about Rusty's own age. The effects of war showed in his face, in the seriousness of his eyes. A narrow scar across his right cheekbone could have resulted from a saber slash or a bullet.

If a bullet, Rusty thought, why could it not have been an inch farther in? He immediately felt guilty. Such a thought was unworthy of him. He wished no one dead, least of all a soldier who fought for his country.

Clemmie looked around worriedly. "Where's Geneva? There's nothin' wrong with her, is there?"

Gifford tried to reassure her, shaking his head. "She's in the cabin, takin' her rest. Been havin' some low days. Preacher Webb says it's normal, what with her condition."

Clemmie brightened. "Preacher's here?"

"In yonder with Geneva."

Clemmie turned toward the older structure in which Geneva and her husband had made their home.

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