The Far Side of Lonesome Read Free Page B

passed the
dried up watering holes. The land was barren and lifeless. The
summer had been too dry. The grasses had long turned brown, and the
trees were losing their leaves.
    * * * * *
    That evening Jeb took out the bedroll
and made the woman as comfortable as he could. But instead of
sitting, she began to rummage through the gear and found some food
to prepare for them at the campfire. Beef jerky and canned beans
seemed to be the best she could do as the waterhole offered little
fishing.
    No one complained. She served them as
she had obviously been used to doing for some time. They nodded and
smiled at her.
    As they all settled back, and she
uncradled her child, Jeb glanced at her. He noted the way she laced
and unlaced his cradle so easily, as though she’d done it many
times. He wondered how many things she learned in the Indian camps.
Such an unusual woman.
    He admired the spunk in her to stay
alive and to survive any circumstance.
    “Sarah, I don’t want to bring this up,
but it has to be said before we get there and it has to be decided
upon now. Those people in town….they will accept you and take you
in, but they won’t allow that baby to come with you. I think you
already know that. Just the site of him will change their opinion
of you too. Now, Hoot and I, we know it ain’t natural to separate a
mama from a calf, but those refined townspeople ain’t gonna see it
that way. So we gotta figure out what to do. You got any notion
where you need to be headed?” Jeb asked her.
    Sarah let the baby sit up and play with
a stick, and then looked at the two men. “I had two babies by my
first husband, two girls. I want to get them….and then I’ll go it
alone…I expect.”
    “Alone? Fool woman, don’t you know…you
can’t do that.” Jeb frowned at her. Just because she had survived
with the Indians didn't mean she could tackle life
alone.
    “My husband is dead, I have no
relatives to speak of…I’m alone now. That’s part of the reason it
was easier to keep livin’. I knew my man was gone, and there was no
one else to care for me. The only hope I ever had was those two
girls. Just thinkin’ on them kept me goin’ at first. Seein' them in
my head, knowin' maybe someday I'd be back with them. My baby
girls. It kept me going, kept me sane all during this time. I know
I won't be accepted, but I can get my girls and we can go make a
life somewhere.”
    Jeb and Hoot both nodded, but they both
doubted it somehow. Her children might not understand any of
it.
    She saw their faces of concern though.
“I know you are right about the town. My husband told me to use the
gun if those Comanche’s got too close, but I when the time came, I
just couldn’t do it. I knew what he meant. I saw the arrow pierce
his chest, saw the glazed look in his eyes as he lay dying. He
urged me to use it. But I just couldn’t do it…..” she let a tear
escape down her cheek. “The good book don’t respect takin’ your own
life. It’s God given, and takin’ it away is a sin. I couldn’t do
it.”
    “It’d be hard to do alright, ma’am.”
Hoot nodded and handed her his bandana.
    “Maybe I should have…because there is
no place for me now…I'm an outcast, and I know it.” Sarah announced
sadly, her shoulders slumping and she flopped on the ground hard as
though she just realized how futile to go on might be. “I guess you
two are kinda sorry you brought me, too….”
    “No, ma’am. We’d of done it anyway. But
don’t you have family somewhere…? Isn't there someone you can go
to?”
    Sarah stared at them, her eyes
searching their expressions.
    “Do you honestly think my family would
be any different than the townspeople? Knowing I’d been a captive
that long—and bore a child. It's the child they won't accept and I
won't accept living without him….When I got married, my father
disowned me. I’d been an old maid, all of twenty-one and never
married or had children. He wanted me to marry the banker’s son.