Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

Johnny barely looked up when Hound Dog walked into the bunkhouse. Susan was at the table with a sketch pad and Johnny was resting on his bunk nosing through a book.

“Calder, I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

Johnny looked up, “Sure, what is it, Hound Dog?”

The marshal motioned toward the door and nodded to Susan as he spoke.

“We maybe ought to take this outside. It’s sort of delicate.”

“I’ll just have to tell her when I come back in anyway,” stated Johnny. “Otherwise she’ll get worried and scared of what we’re talking about.”

Johnny did, however sit up grimacing just a bit as he did. Sitting still and resting was probably good for healing but it took a bit for his body to get used to moving again. Every time he moved, he felt the need to check his shirt to make sure he hadn’t reopened the wound.

“Susan,” Johnny said. “Come on over here and sit with me. Hound Dog’s got something to talk about.”

Obediently the girl came over and scaled her way onto her daddy’s lap while Hound Dog took one more assessing look at the younger man’s face. He was still unsure if this was the type of conversation to open in front of the child. He was chagrined to see the young folks both just staring back at him in expectation. Well, far be it from him to tell another man how to raise his child.

It was still hard for Hound Dog to look on Johnny as a man. He guessed it was like that for everyone upon seeing a grown child. They’d never quite be grown in the eyes of those who’d seen them through the missteps of their youth. But seeing Johnny take on all the responsibilities of a man, Hound Dog couldn’t see calling him a boy anymore. The older man just sighed and began to speak.

“We got to move the prisoners for trial next week,” Hound Dog paused hoping against all hope that Johnny wouldn’t want to be part of this move. He’d understand the desire and also knew that if Johnny really wanted that, then he’d go along with it. But he felt it would be a very bad idea.

“Who’s ‘we’?” asked Johnny.

“Well, I don’t rightly know but they’ve got to be moved.”

“You ain’t looking at me to do it, are you?” Johnny asked.

“Actually I was worried you’d want to go. I don’t think that would be such a good thing.”

Johnny smiled and looked to the girl in his lap.

“Can’t go leaving her right now. ‘Sides, I’ve had just about enough of the Franklin brothers to last me the rest of my life. Just say when Susan and me need to be there for the trial.”

Hound Dog considered the maturity behind those words. It was maturity he often thought would never flow from John Calder.

“You got a preference for who I do send?”

“Long as it ain’t Carl, no,” he said then added, “Anyone here’d make sure they got where they was going.”

Hound Dog had to laugh at that a minute. Carl’d volunteer for sure but there was no way in creation that boy was doing any such thing. The older man stood with a grunt.

“Guess I’ll just have to see who wants to volunteer,” Hound Dog paused before leaving to place a hand on the side of Susan’s face and allowed himself to feel a moment’s heart ache for her and what she’d been through and even more, what she was in for.

Once Hound Dog had gone, Johnny squeezed Susan a little tighter.

“Do you understand this Susan?”

“I think so. Why did Hound Dog think you would want to take the bad men?”

Johnny had to laugh, but not at Susan, more at the boy he used to be.

“I guess that would be ‘cause there was a time I’d’ve fought to go. And I mean I really would have fought anyone who tried to stop me,” he shook his head thinking on the rash young man and what a miracle it was that he’d lived long enough to be anything to this girl. “It’s more important to be here for you now.”

They sat that way for a while, Johnny just relishing the weight of her in his arms and the easy quiet between them. It was, oddly enough to Johnny’s way of thinking, the little girl who broke the silence.

“What is a trial like?”

“Well, I ain’t been part of too many of ‘em but they’re all kind of the same I guess. There’s a man called a judge and twelve more called a jury. Then there’s another one who tells the jury and judge all the proof against the folks accused of the crime. He calls up witnesses and they tell what they know that makes the folks guilty. When he’s done, another fella stands up and tries to prove that the accused folks didn’t do it or if they did, they had a good reason. Then the jury thinks about everything and decides which side had the best argument.”

“What if the jury thinks that the proof is not good enough? What if they do not believe me? People think I do not know things.”

Johnny wasn’t sure how to answer as she had just given voice to his own fears regarding the case. The only firsthand witness was Susan and he knew the defense would try to make her look simple and slow. He also knew that if she was frightened in the courtroom by seeing Morgan and Clete Franklin that she might not talk at all.

“Princess, we’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he didn’t know how he or anyone else would accomplish that but he knew somehow he’d make it so.

“Daddy, I cannot breathe.”

“What? Oh,” he said as he realized he’d been holding her too tight. He made himself release his grip. It scared him to let go even a little bit. After a pause he spoke again, softly and almost unsure.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

He took a ragged breath and made a silent prayer that he could put this into words.

“Lots of reasons…I’m sorry you’re going through this trial. I know that don’t make sense to you ‘cause it ain’t my fault what happened. But I’m still sorry. Maybe that’s part of wanting to protect you. And I’m real sorry they took your family away from you. I try to make it right with this bunch of misfits but sometimes, in your sleep, you call for your brother, Joe. I know you miss him and I’m sorry he was taken from you. And I’m sorry about this hole in my side. Cora pointed out to me today that taking care of you wasn’t enough if I wasn’t taking care of myself. I know there wasn’t much I could do about being shot but I should’ve seen to it proper before I did. I wasn’t thinking at all. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes,” she said, “Please do not do it again. You made me scared.”

“I know and that’s the last thing I ever want to do. We will get through this somehow. Am I still your brave knight?”

She nodded.

“Butterfly kiss on it?”

She obliged him and he felt truly invincible. It was a feeling the Colts on his hips had never granted him.

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