CANYON OF DEATH
KAIBITO
TRADING POST “Been expecting you,” Ben McGraw said as dust-covered,
exhausted Marshal Jake Silver walked toward the Kaibito Trading Post. Jake slowed, uncertain what that greeting meant. He studied McGraw, who was standing in the doorway of the stone
building, seeing worry deeply etched in the burly man’s face and eyes. Ben McGraw’s whole posture indicated trouble. An avalanche of possibilities cascaded through
Jake’s mind. He kept his eyes planted on McGraw, and sure enough, the man looked down, unable to bear his penetrating
gaze.
Neither spoke for a moment as they stood, face to face. “What,” Jake stated, more than asked.
“She’s
here. Indians brought her in yesterday.”
Jake
shoved past McGraw, forcing his way into the open room. “Where is she?”
“Jake,
before you see her, I gotta warn you. She’s not good.” McGraw turned to follow Jake into the room.
“Where
is she?” Jake demanded, louder.
“She’s with Tilly. Shimasani’s there, too.” McGraw firmly grabbed Jake’s arm. “Listen
to me. Stop a damn minute and listen.”
Despite his angst, Jake stood, waiting for the sinister news.
“She’s not good. But there’s
hope. The doc from Freeman is on his way. Should be here tomorrow.” McGraw paused before continuing. “I’m
real sorry.”
Jake stood
a moment longer, his heart thumping. He hesitated before the heavy Navajo blanket that separated the sleeping quarters from
the trading center, steeling himself. “What’s happened to her, Ben?” he asked, stalling. “Help me
out here.”
The large man gently placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “She’s been beat up pretty bad. The Indians
found her in the desert. They kept her for a few days before bringing her here. Apparently, she was ‘most dead when
they found her. They didn’t think she’d survive the trip here without some o’ their care first.” Pausing,
McGraw cleared his throat. “They brought her in two days ago. She don’t look too good, but
she’s holding her own as far as we can tell. Not gettin’ worse, anyway. I’m real sorry to have to tell you
this.”
Jake took a long, deep breath, and entered the curtained room. A small window emitted enough light that he could see
Betsy’s bruised and battered face. Clumps of her long, blonde hair had been torn from her head. She looked so fragile,
forlorn, and helpless lying in the middle of the bed. His breath jerked in, and he stifled a groan of anguish, instantly followed
by a spasm of rage, then swiftly collapsing to a profound sense of grief and sorrow.
Tilly
McGraw sat by Betsy’s side holding vigil over the sleeping girl. On the other side of the bed, an older Indian woman,
a Navajo called only Shimasani who lived with the local medicine man, mumbled incoherently in a sing-song voice, rocking slowly
to and fro. Upon Jake’s arrival Mrs. McGraw stood, motioning for him to take her place.
Sitting
heavily, Jake felt the energy sucked from him. He held motionless for a moment, unable to tear his eyes from the floor to
look Betsy full in the face. When finally he did so, he saw a swollen, blue eye watching him, the other eye, only a slit,
unable to open. No smile. No tears. No sign of recognition crossed her face. Slowly, her eye closed, and her breath came in
little puffs as she quivered slightly.
“Betsy,” Jake whispered. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m never gonna leave you again.”
His throat constricted. My god, what had he done? This was all his fault. No one’s fault but his.
He
had no idea how long he sat, holding Betsy’s small, delicate hand in his large, calloused one. At last, and for the
first time in Jake’s life, he prayed, bartering with God, pleading with Him, begging, finally demanding that He let
her live.
Darkness fell, and suddenly he became aware of Tilly touching him lightly on the shoulder. “Jake, come eat something,”
she spoke softly. “Shimasani will not leave her side. Come.” Like a child, he arose and silently followed the
slight woman, wanting only for someone to guide him at this moment through the helplessness and uselessness that he felt in
the face of Betsy’s condition.
In contrast to the darkness in his heart, the trading post glowed warmly with candlelight and a crackling hearth. Slowly,
Jake became aware of the smell of venison stew. He hadn’t felt hungry until that moment, although it’d been a
full day since he’d eaten.
“I’ll go wash up and check on the horse,” he said quietly.
“I
fed and watered him already, Jake. You can give him more, though. He’s still acting hungry,” McGraw’s tone
suggested a nonchalance and assurance he clearly didn’t feel.
Once outside, Jake revived in the
cool night air. Apache, the Arab-quarter horse cross, whinnied demandingly and trotted to the fence in greeting. When Jake’d
left Prescott in pursuit of Betsy and her abductor, the horse had still been half wild. In its vigor and drive, the feral
mount easily managed seventy miles a day without breaking a sweat, demanding an experienced, strong rider to maintain control.
Betsy’d bought this fine stud at auction a few months before. The girl had a natural eye for good livestock, that was
certain. Perhaps her idea of raising breeding stock wasn’t as silly as he’d then insinuated.
He
gently stroked the horse’s muzzle as he recalled back to well over a year ago when he’d first stopped at this
trading post. Strange, he thought. He’d been hunting Geiger then but hadn’t known it at the time, and he’d
been trying to forget Betsy, to erase her from his head – and heart. He’d failed at both.
“Well,
we found her, Apache,” Jake spoke quietly to the horse as he forked an extra ration of hay over the fence. “Not
like I hoped, or expected, but we found her.” Washing up in tepid water sitting in a basin on the back porch, a sense
of starvation and exhaustion nearly swamped him. He realized he’d been tracking either his sister or Betsy for nigh
onto almost what, three or four months, living out of the saddle and on what he could shoot or scavenge. He’d stay here
for a few days and rest up before this journey’s deadly finale. He wanted to be present when the doctor examined Betsy,
and he desperately wanted to see an improvement in her before he left on his hunt for the foul perpetrator of this heinous
crime, Johnny Geiger. Realizing what he intended, he removed his badge, pocketing it in his vest for the second time since
serving as U.S. Deputy Marshal.
Both
McGraw and his wife cast baleful glances at Jake throughout the mostly silent meal. Tilly kept forcing food on him until he
grew embarrassed. “Jake Silver, I want you to eat every morsel. You look positively haggard, young man.”
“Now,
Tilly. The man knows when he’s had enough,” McGraw said, coming to Jake’s rescue.
Turning
upon her husband, the tiny woman shook her serving spoon at him. “Ben McGraw, you just let me take care of this man.
He’s going to need every bit of strength he can muster.”
Silence fell as each person pondered the meaning
of her statement. Finally, McGraw spoke. “Jake, for right now, you need to forget about whoever it is you’re after.
This isn’t the time.”
Pushing
himself from the table, Jake looked long and hard into McGraw’s eyes. The meal had given him a renewed vigor. Power
and anger spurred him now, replacing his earlier feelings of sorrow and defeat. “You’re wrong, Ben. Now is the
time. You don’t know this jackal. He’s evil. Pure and simple. Rotten through and through. He’s known for
beating up and abusing women, children, crippled folk. He uses black folk as target practice. His time’s up, and I’m
the man who’s going to end it for him.”
“Jake, you’re upset. Betsy needs
you right now. This isn’t the time to take off,” McGraw repeated, more forcefully.
“I’ll
stick around for a few days, but I’m going to end this sooner than later. She’ll never be safe….”
Jake started to say that their child would never be safe either, but suddenly he stopped, wondering if a baby could withstand
what’d just happened to the mother. In the shock of seeing Betsy so battered, he’d forgotten about her pregnancy.
“Is
she…is she still….” He paused, uncertain how to ask, his voice breaking.
“What
is it?” McGraw asked solicitously.
“Is she still…with child?” Jake asked, fearing the answer he might hear.
“It
seems she is,” Tilly spoke up. “I didn’t know if you knew. The doctor can confirm this, but Shimasani’s
chants are for the delivery of a healthy boy. The old grandmother refers to him with the Hopi name, Tiponi, Child of Importance.”
“My
god!” A flood of warmth raced to Jake’s face. Would the baby be okay? If Betsy were half dead, how could the baby
possibly live? Questions rushed through his mind, but he kept them to himself.
“We’ll
know when the doctor arrives,” Tilly said, reading Jake’s face. “My concern at this point, though, is Betsy,
not the baby.”
Jake nodded in understanding. “I should never have left her.” Yet, as he spoke he knew that there’d
have been trouble even if he’d been in Prescott simply doing his job. Johnny Geiger brought trouble, pain, and death
with him wherever he rode.
“Who is this guy? What happened?” McGraw asked.
“I’ve been gone a long time,”
Jake began wearily. “I went to Tombstone to find my sister who’s had her own problems. It took me longer than
I’d planned to find her and then get her to safety. That’s a story for another day, but when I got back to Prescott
I found Betsy gone and her ranch hand shot. He may even be dead by now. Geiger left his name and location – taunting
me, daring me. He’s expecting a final showdown, and he’s going to get one that he never imagined.”
“So,
who’s Betsy to you? If’n you don’t mind my askin’?” McGraw asked gently.
“I
planned on marrying her when I got back to Prescott – if she’d have me. I didn’t know she was carrying my
child,” Jake fumbled for words, bothered that he’d caused Betsy the embarrassment of carrying a child without
being rightly married. “Just found out when I got back. Virginia Hall told me. She’s taking care of Betsy’s
ranch hand right now. She’s been a good friend, kind of a mother, really, to Betsy since I took Betsy to Prescott after
she ran away from the orphan train.” Jake paused, then smiled. “That’s another long story.”
“My
my. You do lead an interesting life, Marshal, and have interesting acquaintances! But you’re right,” Tilly said
with matronly concern. “You need to do right by this girl and marry her just as soon’s you can. Who do we know
can perform this ceremony, Ben?”
“Well, that jackass minister in Freeman could, but he’ll never get on out here.”
“What
about Koteche, Shimasani’s husband?”
“Now, Tilly, they don’t want to be married by no Indian medicine man. Besides, who’d recognize that
as a real marriage?”
“Well, Jake and Betsy would until they could get a preacher in Prescott,” the small, feisty woman retorted.
McGraw
waved his hand in consternation.
“Well, it’s mighty nice that you’re both wanting the best for Betsy,” Jake said, “but
she may not have me after this. She’s a pretty independent young woman, and I’ve come to realize I’m not
the best catch. I don’t deserve someone as good as her,” Jake said, sadness evident in his voice. “My sister
recently put me in my place. So did an Apache. I’m not nearly good enough for that girl in there, no matter how much
I’ve come to know that I love her.” Jake stopped, his face flushing. He’d never spoken so openly about his
feelings. Now he bristled slightly. “Guess we’ll see. I’m not putting my hopes on it, but whether she marries
me or not, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to her, that much I swear.”
“You’re
a good man, Jake, but like most men foolish at times. Don’t be too hard on yourself. There’s hope for you.”
Tilly smiled kindly, laying her hand on his arm. “Why don’t you go on in and stay with her tonight? You’ve
got to be dead tired. I laid some blankets out for you on the floor by the bed. It’ll do both of you a world of good
to be together.”
“Thank you, Miz McGraw. Think I’ll do that. You’re right. I’m plumb exhausted.” Jake
stood. “I’m curious how you knew I came here looking for her, though.”
“It
was writ on your face when you rode up, Jake. Could’a read it a mile away,” McGraw said.
Tilly
smiled. “What Ben says is true, but she’s talked a few times, especially the first night here. That’s how
we come to know her name, and when she mentioned yours, we knew you’d be coming along.”
Jake
nodded, hope welling. “Mighty fine dinner. The best I’ve had since I can’t remember when. Thank you both.”
He paused a moment longer. “I’ll never forget that I’m deeply indebted to you. Not sure how I can ever repay
you, but know I’ll be there if you’re ever in need. Ever.”
