STORY TWO: THE RUNAWAY
By Molly M. Moon
Posted: 8/8/99
See disclaimer on Home Page
The sun was setting over the far horizons of the Rocky Mountains. The tall man in the dark duster and hat easily held the reins in his hands as he let the horses move along at their own pace, cognizant of the load they carried. The blond-haired young man next to him was squirming uncomfortably. The long hours on the hard wooden seat were taking their toll on his already sore bottom. He looked occasionally over at the somber man beside him, but sympathy was in short supply, since the punishment administered had been well deserved and necessary to bring the rebellious youth in line.
"We'll pull over up ahead, under that crop of trees. Set up camp for the evening," he broke the silence.
"How much farther is it to your ranch?" Darby Cole asked. To the young man, who was mostly used to travelling on foot, the long ride should have taken them to the ranch according to his estimations.
"Another day's ride should get us in by nightfall."
When Wolf Stoddard pulled the horses into the shelter of the trees, he got down from the seat and started tending to the horses. Darby sat there for a few minutes unsure what was expected of him.
"Get the bucket. There's a stream about 200 yards off down where that ravine starts over there," Wolf said as he pointed in the direction of the sloping landscape, "when you get back start collecting some firewood."
Darby jumped down, stiffly, from the seat. He proceeded to do what Wolf told him. Then he saw the shotgun Wolf had tucked away under the seat, mere inches from the bucket. He furtively glanced to see if Wolf was watching him. He wanted so badly to grab the shotgun and make a break for it. He didn't know how many minutes passed as he stood there and stared at the gun, then he nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a soft whisper in his ear, the breath tickling his lobe.
"You'd better be prepared to use it if you point it at me."
Darby quickly reached for the bucket, his face and neck flushed from the realization that this man could read his mind and could sneak up on him so quietly. How the hell does he do it, Darby thought. He tried to back away from the wagon but the rock hard wall behind him wouldn't budge. Darby stood still imagining retribution in all its red-hot disguises. Then he felt the hard chest press against his back and push him into the wagon side as a black-sleeved arm came around and reached for the shotgun. Darby stood absolutely still, frightened, waiting for the ax to fall.
"You'd better get that water and wood, boy, I don't know about you, but I'm awfully hungry."
"Yes, sir," Darby said quickly and practically ran towards the ravine.
Darby pondered his fate on the long ride from Happenstance. Shifting his weight to take the pressure off of each cheek had occupied him a good portion of the time, but when he could he started planning his inevitable escape. He would just have to gain a certain amount of trust. There was no way he could outrun a man, as experienced in tracking as Wolf, without a horse. However, if he stole a horse from this man, he'd best be prepared to run like the wind or die trying. He would surely hang from the highest tree for the second foolish attempt. He would just have to wait until he checked out the ranch. Right now Wolf didn't have any particular schedule, and Darby didn't have any time alone to make a break for it. Once they got into a certain routine at the ranch, Darby would be able to plan a successful departure from the servitude he saw himself sold into.
When he returned with the water and firewood, Wolf started a fire. By time Darby unloaded their bedrolls and gear from the wagon, Wolf had a pot of coffee brewing and dinner cooking. Darby stood around stretching his legs, not really caring to sit.
When supper was ready, Wolf handed him a plate of the beans and bacon. There was a huge chunk of bread that Wolf had bought at the hotel. It was an added treat to Darby. He took his plate over to a large rock and leaned against it as he ate, setting the plate and his coffee cup on the huge, flat surface. He was surprised when Wolf came up beside him.
"Mind if I join you?"
"It's a free country, at least for most men," Darby said, somewhat sarcastically.
Wolf just took a deep breath, "It's a free country for men who respect other people's property and obey the law."
Darby didn't know what to say to this so he just concentrated on his supper.
"Were you born in San Francisco?" Wolf asked the boy as he dunked a large slice of the bread in his beans.
"No," Darby answered curtly.
"Where then?" Wolf persisted.
"On a wagon train when my ma was making her way to San Francisco," Darby still answered with all the attitude that he dared.
"Where are your ma's folks?"
"How the hell should I know. You think I should find them and introduce myself as their bastard grandson? If they didn't want my ma, why would they want me?" Darby said petulantly.
"Look, boy," Wolf said as he set his plate down somewhat sharply, rattling the fork. "You're stuck with me for one year. Like it or not, that's just the way it is. Every day of that year can be hell for you, you keep up that attitude. I don't want it to be. You may not believe this right now, but I want to help you."
Then Wolf ran a tired hand through his thick dark hair. He didn't want this argument every time he tried to make pleasant conversation with the kid; and, he didn't want to badger the kid and then reprimand him for becoming defensive. He picked up his plate and went back to sit by the fire. Finishing his meal in lonely contemplation as the reality of the trouble he bought himself finally set in.
When dinner was over Darby set out his new bedroll near the fire. He lay down on his stomach and covered himself with a blanket pillowing his head on another blanket. He turned his head to watch the fire crackle and dance. Feeling his eyes grow heavy from the warmth, he watched the tall man quietly add extra logs to the fire and clean up the camp before setting his own bedroll on the opposite side of the fire. Darby felt ashamed of the way he had been acting. Afterall, he would be on his way to Laramie Prison now if it weren't for Wolf. He had a full belly, brand new clothes, new boots, and all in all, he was pretty well taken care of---better taken care of now than he had been before he met Wolf, that was for sure.
He wanted to say something decent to the man across from him. The
man, whose hard face reflected far more life experience than Darby could
even begin to imagine, seemed tired and worn out. Darby decided to
wait until he was quietly situated for the night, then he would offer some
kind of apology for his behavior without really apologizing. However,
the best-laid plans have a way of slipping by as Darby's tired eyes closed
into deep sleep.
Wolf turned to the figure across from him. He was going to at least say "good night" to the kid. However, the boy was already softly snoring through his parted lips. Wolf just shook his head. He was beginning to understand the kid’s attitude somewhat. He remembered how belligerent another pair of black eyes could become when their owner felt betrayed.
"PAPERE, HOW COULD YOU?" Falcon Landry shouted not caring that the whole house, hell, the whole of New Orleans could hear his frustration and anger.
"I WILL NOT GO!"
"FALCON! You will do as I say!" Etienne Bordage said forcefully. "I have already made plans. Mr. Stoddard is heading there. He will see that you arrive safely at your uncles in Wyoming."
"I will die first, old man," Falcon said biting back the tears that threatened when he realized this was the first time he had ever been disrespectful to his grandfather.
The old man came quickly up to him and backhanded him sharply across the mouth. "You will show respect. You may hate me, now, but you will still show respect."
Falcon's eyes watered, he lowered his head. "I am sorry, papere."
His grandfather walked to the door of his study and opened it. "Mr. Stoddard, would you please join us. I think my grandson will listen to reason now."
When Wolf entered Falcon's eyes turned darkly upon him. They were filled with betrayal and hurt, but also hatred. Falcon had been aware that Wolf knew of his grandfather's plans to send him to Wyoming, he just never realized that Wolf was in on the deal from day one. The tall man had been friendly and warm and Falcon had grown to like him, never realizing that it was all part of the plan to win his trust and fulfill his mission of escorting Falcon to his Uncle Vincent Bordage's ranch in Wyoming.
Now he hated Wolf Stoddard like he had never hated any man in his life. Falcon Landry would never call anyone, who threatened to come between him and his beloved bayou, friend.
"It's not what you think, mon petite," his grandfather caught the scene. "Mr. Stoddard was not part of my plan in the beginning. He knew nothing except that I was sending you out West and I wanted him to tell you about it, hoping you would see what an interesting place it is. It is only logical now that Mr. Stoddard accompanies you since you will both be travelling in the same direction. You are too young and inexperienced to travel alone. Mr. Stoddard will see you safely to your uncle's."
Falcon made no show of understanding or forgiveness. Etienne Bordage sighed, "So be it, Falcon, but go you will. You will show Mr. Stoddard respect and obedience. He will have a letter signed by Judge LeFourche and me giving him custodial rights over you. You are not eighteen and I can instruct this for your own safety and well being. I was hoping the journey would be pleasant, but if you choose to be uncooperative Mr. Stoddard can take whatever action he deems necessary to ensure your safety and your obedience. Now go to your room, the matter is settled and you will comply. I love you, mon petite. I do this for your own good."
Falcon gave a disbelieving grunt and raced from the room, slamming the door to the study as loudly as he could.
Etienne Bordage sadly met Wolf Stoddard's blue gaze and sighed, "He will come around, he has always been a happy, easy spirit. It is not like him to be angry for long. He will come around."
Part 2 of Story Two