Western Omelette

Past But Not Forgotten

Ben Easterly drank thirstily from the dipper then dumped another cupful over his head, sighing as the cold water ran down his neck and back. Running a hand through the wet hair, he leaned on the pump handle and looked at the cabin he and his wife had built together.

It had been hard work, particularly as Hannah had been full with a new child, but worth it to Ben. The silent promise he had made about keeping this last piece of property, was being fulfilled.

He hung the dipper on the handle and stretched mightily, then slipped on his shirt and headed up to the cabin. His wife, Hannah came out on the porch, shading her eyes, and staring across the river at the bottom of the property.

"There's a number of riders sitting over there, Ben. Just watchin'."

He followed her pointing finger and felt his chest quiver. "Get inside, Hannah. You and Hoke stay in the cabin." He stepped onto the porch and picked up his rifle, always handy in case of marauding animals, watching as the riders slowly made their way across the ford in the river.

"You Easterly?" Called the large, gruff man with a full dark beard, at the head of the group. He leaned forward and spat.

"I am. And just who are you?" He heard a few chuckles before the man answered.

"Mason Montgomery, owner of the Double M. All that land you see behind me is mine."

"Except for a hundred feet on the other side of the river, Mr. Montgomery. That's mine." Ben lifted his arms slightly, the perspiration was trickling like a waterfall.

"Well that's why I'm here. I need to water my cows and what I see on this side is some fine grazing land, so, I'll be movin' my herd over to take advantage."

Ben swept his eyes over the rough faces flanking Montgomery, pausing on one, who was smirking back, stroking the stock of his carbine.

"Be happy to accommodate your herd using the river, Mr. Montgomery, but they won't be crossin' it onto this side."

The air felt dead still, and the silence dragged on forever. Montgomery turned his head, and the man Ben had been watching dropped from his horse.

"Ben!" Hannah came onto the porch clutching a young Hoke close to her.

"I said to stay inside, Hannah," he hissed nervously.

"Well, looks like you're trying to raise your own posse here, Easterly." The man swaggered forward, laughing.

"That's far enough, Mister." Ben's rifle came up level with his hip. "Be a good idea to take this man and the rest of your mob off my land, Montgomery."

The man took another step and stopped at the sound of the rifle cocking. "I don't want no trouble here. You're welcome to water your herd . . . but from the other side."

"Pa! Look out!" Young Hoke pointed at the man in front of Ben, who was drawing his pistol.

As the man's hand came up, Ben swung the rifle around and fired. Hannah screamed and sagged against the cabin wall. The mounted riders all went for their guns, steadying the nervous horses. Montgomery raised a hand and glared at Ben.

"You just dealt yourself a bad hand, Easterly." He ordered a couple of his men to pick up the body, and urged his horse closer to where Ben stood. "That fella you just killed is Donner Houseman," he paused, "Theo Houseman's younger brother. You heard of him, Easterly?"

"I know the name."

"Yeah, well Theo ain't gonna be pleased about what you did here."

Hoke suddenly interrupted, crying that something was wrong with his mother. Ben shot a look to see Hanna slumped on the porch, holding her stomach. He spun back toward Montgomery, raising the rifle.

"I said you could water your herd, and my word is good. Now get off my land before there's more unnecessary shootin'." He began backing up to the porch, eyes on the men as they finally rode off, then he dropped the rifle and scrambled to Hannah's side.

****

"Couldn't have done nothin' even if I got here sooner, Ben. She had a miscarriage and that's that." The doc closed his bag, slipped on his hat and gave a sad look toward the resting Hannah.

"You mean we've lost the baby." Flat. Quiet.

"'Fraid so, and Hannah's gonna need a lot of rest. It was hard on her bein' so far along."

"But why?"

"I think Hannah's body took a real shock when the shootin' you told me about, occurred. She musta thought you were gonna be killed, and . . ." He waved a helpless hand toward her. "Don't mean you can't try again. Just not soon."

Hoke sat on a small stool by the fireplace, the name Theo Houseman branding itself into his mind. After the doctor left, the father and son had sat close to Hannah, on the bed, whispering comforting sounds and fighting back the tears trying to push their way through.

****

As it happened, the doctor was wrong. Hannah died from other complicated, internal injuries seven months later, and Ben just lost interest in life. Hoke was thirteen at the time, beginning to show physical signs of the man he would become – tall, rangy, and strong. He tried keeping his father interested, by expanding the vegetable garden his mother loved. Or bringing him news from the town when he went alone to get supplies. Unfortunately, Ben had to spend most of his time fending off angry visits from Montgomery over the purchase of the land.

Returning from town on his seventeenth birthday one February afternoon, Hoke wondered at the lack of smoke from the cabin chimney, and he worriedly urged his horse into a gallop. Inside he found his father slumped over the dining table, fingers clutching the shawl his mother had always worn, and blank eyes staring at nothing.

Ben Easterly had just given up . . . everything.

He was now alone, and those long repressed tears flooded out unhindered. He bundled the body onto his horse, and climbed on, heading back to town. All the way, Hoke promised over and over, he would stay in the cabin and protect the land just as his father would have.

Hoke kept his promise, and two years later, after a period of dedicated preparation, he was accepted into the Pinkerton Detective agency. His skills, which had been refined through his teen years, made that acceptance much easier.