The Desert Between Us by Phyllis Barber

Author:Phyllis Barber [Barber, Phyllis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948908573
Publisher: University of Nevada Press

Not something Geoffrey ever thought he would do, but there he was: riding a horse alongside his father, crossing the border, riding toward Missouri on the outskirts of towns: outlying farms, as their farm had been outlying, something away from the center, something for amateurs, for the halfhearted, the unbold. But this was war. All was fair in love and war, someone once said.

Six weeks after the attack on Osceola, they were riding into Missouri, challenging the aggressor and being the aggressor. His father, Elias Scott, carried Geoffrey Scott’s only rifle, repeating the words, “Damn slavers. Missouri slavers” over and over, as though he needed the words to heighten his rage. He acted as if the carbine were his, ticktocking it over his head. Waving it in the air. Tucking it beneath his arm.

Geoffrey Scott wondered why he’d decided rifles were necessary in the first place. Maybe it was the West, he told himself. Being out in the open with no protection. A rifle under his arm, or at least one in its scabbard making him less vulnerable. Now his father was holding his rifle as if it had been his forever. Geoffrey Scott was surprised at the new life his father seemed to have with this carbine under his arm. New energy. New determination.

In this, his last raid, he told his son, he’d pack the repeating rifle. “Thanks, son,” he also said. “This’ll help me do what needs to be done,” thus laying claim to his son for the first time since the shooting of his wife. The two rode together and rode hard, harder than Geoffrey Scott had ever ridden. He witnessed the resolve on his father’s face. The anger. The self-righteousness because someone had crossed the border and killed his wife. Why shouldn’t a man cross back over the border and return the considerable pain? Geoffrey Scott was there. By his side. His son, though his father was sick both in the head and in his body.

Geoffrey Scott’s emotions vacillated between retribution and the innocence of the people they were riding toward. Who knew what they thought about slavery and the war between the states everyone was talking about? They probably had their ideas but mainly wanted to live through the days without too much interruption. So why was he riding with his father? Why was he participating in something he didn’t believe? Maybe he needed to do what his father asked because there wouldn’t be many more times for that to happen? His father. He needed his father, this crazy man.

A homestead came into view. By itself, as Elias’ home had been standing by itself in the countryside near Osawatomie. “This is where one of the Border Ruffians lives. Might even be one of the men still alive who killed your mother. Who knows for sure? Follow me.”

But Geoffrey Scott didn’t want to be part of this when everything seemed normal, the way it was supposed to be when war wasn’t raging. While his father kept

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