Saddle Dust

Chapter 10

Richard wakes up at about 7am (he has been asleep for only about two and a half hours) to find Maxine standing next to the white lace-draped cradle in the corner of the room rocking their infant son, Frederick Jr. and shushing him quietly. The baby is fussing, but only a little and Richard is reminded of the time when he watched his mother rock his little sister to sleep when she had been very sick. His sister had fallen deeply asleep and he hadn't understood why his mother had started to cry. He hadn't understood until much later why his father had come in the room and gently picked him up and carried him out into the front yard.
He only found out that his sister had died when the men in black who buried her in the cemetery came to the house with a small coffin. His parents didn't talk about it after that day and he didn't ask. It was only later, after he had watched the town's barber set his friend's arm straight after he had fallen from a tree, that he realized that you could actually help people who were sick or injured. Twenty years later he found himself picking up his brown medical bag for the first time and rushing off to help an old man who was suffering from a terrible cough.
Maxine turns to him, a gentle but tired smile warming her pale face.
"Good morning dear. Papa told me about your ride back last night, I'm terribly sorry to hear about the stable boy not arriving."
Her blond hair tumbles around her face in loose curls and knotted strands. Richard thinks she looks like an angel. "Du bist shon, du bist ein Engel" is what his father would have said to his mother after coming in from a particularly long day fixing wagons and plows. Richard smiles back at his wife and goes to her. He embraces both her and his son tightly.
"You shouldn't be the one feeling sorry for me. I have suffere3d nothing compared to what you have had to go through with Philip. He was a good man, one of the best."
Maxine nods into his shoulder and steps back. Her eyes are clear, but tired grey lines ring them. Richard smiles again at her and dresses for the day. The three of them head downstairs for a late breakfast.
It seems most everyone in the house has just come down to breakfast as there is still a fair amount of food on the table. People are talking to each other in somber voices, but their topics of conversation don't appear to be about Philip. It also appears that everyone knows about the stable boy not making it to Richard, because the few who notice Richard enter the room shoot him looks filled with pity. Richard notes that no one appears to be blaming him, which he takes to be as good a sign as any under the circumstances.
After eating a quick plate of toast and eggs, Richard walks outside and around to the back of the house where Sam is chopping firewood. Sam stops his chopping and wipes the sweat glistening on his forehead as Richard approaches.
"Good morning Richard, how goes everything?"
"Good morning Sam, quite well considering. I was just wondering where Victor got off to. I had a quick question for him."
Sam's light but genuine smile doesn't waver as he tilts his ax against his leg.
"He went back to the north post. Needed to get some chores done or something. I wouldn't push him too hard on the matter, he's just lost a brother you know."
"No, of course not. Thank you. I expect I'll be back a bit before supper if anyone asks where I'm off to."
"Yes sir."
Sam heaves the ax back on his shoulder and begins to line up the next log for chopping. Richard smiles and turns to go, but Sam calls out to him as he is leaving.
"Could you bring the pony to Victor? He'll be needing to send it out to the head wrangler. You'd be saving me several hours riding out there, and I'd be quite grateful if you would do that chore for me."
"The grey one? Sure. I'll do that."

Several hours later, Richard rides into view of the north post riding his own tall brown horse. The grey pony trots on its tether alongside him. He dismounts and ties the two horses to the single segment of fence that stands alone next to the cabin. He knows that Victor is out making his rounds in the field and will be impossible to find for the next little while. Richard expects he'll be back soon, but knows it could be a couple of hours. He came prepared for such a wait.
Richard takes a seat on the log in the very same place where Casey sat and learned of her parent's deeds in Alaska. He takes a stack of mail from his pocket and begins to sort through it. It's mostly correspondence from the various fellowships he has from three or four universities in the northeast, but two of them are from close friends of his and one is from his mother. Two hours pass before Richard looks up and sees a small cloud of dust traveling along one of the many cow trails lazily stitched across the land. He stands and puts the letters away and sticks his hands in his coat pockets. Victor waves a greeting to him and dismounts from his dirty old horse.
He approaches Richard and takes his hand firmly.
"Dr. Arlington! It's nice to see a friendly face out here. I see you brought me my pony. That was mighty kind of you. What can I do for you?"
"You look well. That's good to see. I had a few questions if you wouldn't mind answering them? Nothing serious or anything."
The friendly smile slips for a moment from Victor's face and he releases Richard's hand.
"Sure...I could answer a few questions. Just know though that Philip doesn't- didn't want me to share anything too...erm...well, he was uncomfortable with some of the details of how everything shook out and I don't want to dishonor that promise I made to him."
"That's quite alright Victor. I just want you to answer the questions to the fullest extent that you feel able to."
Victor visibly relaxes.
"Well, alright then. Come on inside. It's not got much for space but...well, it's home out here."
Richard follows Victor inside the small cabin to a space that smells of hay, men, and horses but is, for the most part, tidy.
"Please, have a seat."
Victor indicates a roughly-hewn wooden chair and Richard sits. He sets his hat in his lap and crosses his feet at the ankles. Victor pulls up a small stool that must occasionally double as a side table based on the candle wax and coffee stains marring it's unfinished surface. Richard lets Victor gather himself for a minute before carefully selecting one of the many questions fluttering around in his mind.
"So, Victor, is there anything you could tell me about how Philip got that nasty injury of his?"
Victor waits the appropriate amount of time before responding with what Richard knows to be not the entire truth.
"Well, I had to amputate his hand after his wrist was injured. You probably saw that when you were examining him though."
Richard sighs internally. So, he picked the long road then. That's alright. I've got time.
"Yes I know that his hand was amputated by blade and it's consoling to know that it was you who had to remove it and not Philip or that it wasn't taken off by some piece of machinery or other. But I want to know...what was the original injury that led to his hand needing to be amputated?"
Victor's eyes shift down.
"Philip had a disagreement and he stood his ground. That's all I can say."
Richard nods encouragingly.
"Yes, that's what he would have done. Philip was a man who would defend his friends and himself against an enemy. There's no shame in being a brave and honorable man. Are you sure there's nothing else you can say on that question? Nothing at all?
Richard waits momentarily for a response that doesn't come.
"Alright then. About how long ago did Philip receive this injury? To me, it looked like at least a few days but you never really can tell with infections."
Victor becomes increasingly uncomfortable. He still won't make eye contact with Richard.
"Well...I suppose it was, yeah. A few days ago. More like seven...eight, maybe."
"So a little over a week then?"
Something is beginning to itch at the back of Richard's mind. He tries to reach for what it is, but the thread disappears just as quickly as it came.
"Yeah. A little over a week."
"Ok then. Was the injury caused by a man or by some object or animal that caused it?"
Richard detects just the slightest waver in Victor's voice.
"Man."
"Alright. Do you believe that whatever happened was an accident or was it intentional? If you accidentally caused the injury, there's no need to feel guilty. You are not at fault in any way."
Victor shakes his head vigorously.
"No. It wasn't me, and it was an...accident."
Richard doesn't like the way that Victor said 'accident' but he has a line of questioning that seems to be getting somewhere.
"Oh, so it was someone else then. Someone you know?"
Now Victor is shifting in his seat, he is growing increasingly uncomfortable.
"N...no...no it wasn't."
Richard doesn't believe this but lets it sit.
"Alright then. Was there anyone who you worked with or anything out of the ordinary that day when the accident happened? Remember, Philip was an honorable man. Justice cannot be done to whoever did this to him if you don't tell me-"
Victor shoots out of his stool suddenly causing it to topple over and roll hollowly across the floor. His face is red and his fists tremble at his sides.
"DAMN IT ALL! You talked to the fool who hurt Philip. You talked to her that night a little over a week ago. She...it wasn't her fault. They both had it coming to them."
Victor finishes quietly and vigorously runs his hands through his hair.
"Damn it...now I've done it."
Richard is confused.
"Wait...she? Who was-"
The nagging thought in his head, once so slippery and shadowy, suddenly hits Richard like a locomotive. Casey Long was here a little over a week ago. Of course. How could he not have put the pieces together sooner?
"Victor, I swear that justice will be done. That degenerate can't go around doing what she pleases and hurting innocent men like-"
Victor straightens. Strength and conviction have returned to him.
"No. You can't tell anyone about Casey being the one who...who injured Philip. You don't even know the full story."
Richard makes to interrupt, but Victor silences him with his hand.
"A few months ago Philip and I were out drinking with some old friends of ours. We...we were very very done in..."
Victor's eyes glaze at the memory of that night.
"Philip started talking about the people, Casey's parents, who we worked for up in Alaska. How they...well, you know the story. He got mad. Real mad. His face got all stormy and he said to me 'c'mon! Let's go finish what we started.' And I followed along like I always have. We had heard that Casey just happened to be out at another saloon nearby drinking and so we rode there and..."
"And...?"
"...and Philip tried to shoot her through the window from his horse. He injured her-"
"Yes! I remember now. She had that stiff arm and it was still bandaged. It looked painful but she seemed to be hiding it well. So she came here for revenge?"
"No. Well, probably not. She came to ask Richard why he'd shot her and to ask about her parents up in Alaska. He told her and he reached for his gun but she was faster. She shot him twice in the wrist that was holding the gun. She said it was only fair for the two bullets he'd shot into her arm and shoulder. Then she left after that and well...Philip's wrist didn't get better."
Silence fills the cabin. Victor looks exhausted but relieved. Like he's just dumped a mountain of rocks from out of his boots. Richard is stunned.
"Victor...I don't know what to say. I still think that Philip died wrongly, but...they both played their part in what happened."
Relief and gratitude fill Victor's eyes.
"Thank you Richard, thank you."
"No, I haven't said she's off the hook yet. I still think that she needs to know that he died because of her actions and I think that Maxine needs to know too but-"
"No. You can't tell Maxine. You know how she is, she'll-"
Richard becomes furious.
"You know how she is? How she is? I'm her husband for heaven's sakes. And how she is is my loving and faithful wife. She is nothing more than that."
Richard stands and stomps to the door throwing his hat on his head as he puts his hand on the handle. Victor looks panicked. This only enrages Richard more. He rounds on Victor spitting his words at his feet.
"I know the thing you've done telling me all of this when you had your promise to Philip and so I won't tell anyone else in my family. Anyone else that is, except Maxine. You know Maxine, she's my wife and is completely in ruins over Philip's wrongful death. I am also going to see that something is done about Casey's little revenge game and that she doesn't try it again."
The door slams and the pounding of his horse's hooves seems to ring in Victor's head long after Dr. Arlington leaves. Victor is furious with himself for letting the story of Philip's injury slip, but he knows it would have come out sooner or later. Someone would have noticed that Casey's visit and the timeline for Philip's injury were just too close not to be related to each other. Victor knows that while Richard may have been angry at his poorly chosen comment about his wife, he probably won't say anything to Maxine and certainly not to the rest of the family about any of it. He knows that Dr. Arlington will keep his promise and won't tell the Hartfords. He isn't as sure about Maxine, but he thinks that maybe Arlington will come around. Unlike myself, Victor thinks miserably as he leaves the cabin to bring the grey pony to the head wrangler. Unlike myself, HE can keep a promise.