CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Myra recovered sufficiently after a week to be able to serve behind the bar and many of the regulars told her they were glad to see her back. However, despite Hank banning Horace from the saloon there wasn't a great deal he could do about Myra's Sundays off and he knew they spent the afternoons together.
Assuming Myra would see Horace for what he was and drop him in time, Hank did nothing about it, but it wasn't too long before the town was gossiping about how Horace intended to marry Myra, whether he managed to save up enough to buy out her contract or whether he had to wait until it ended. Most people thought the idea of the telegraph operator falling for a whore was hilarious and didn't take them seriously, but the idea of it made Hank sick. It was only the knowledge that Horace couldn't afford to buy Myra's freedom that stopped him going crazy. It was bad enough that Myra appeared to have feelings for him and he began to wonder if marriage was something she longed for. However, there were too many other things going on for him to give it too much attention.
The next drama in town resulted from Michaela's youngest son, Brian, taking a nosedive out of a tree and sustaining a head injury. He seemed fine immediately after the fall, but suddenly lost his sight when he was helping Loren with plans for a new schoolhouse, the young boy eager to be able to go to a proper school. Loren and Jake had been appointed to run the scheme between them, until they fell out on the first day. Jake turned up in the saloon shortly after and began working his way down a bottle of whiskey.
"What's wrong with you?" Hank grunted when Jake had reached the halfway mark.
He revealed that Loren had discovered he couldn't read and was so tickled by this that he planned to tell everybody about it. It wasn't that much of a big deal, but it had made Jake feel stupid and humiliated.
"Who cares who he tells?" Hank said. "Hell, I can't read either." No one in town had ever actually seen him read or write and he simply wanted to make Jake feel better. He knew all too well what it was like to be made to feel a failure, regardless of how minor the subject appeared.
"Me neither," added Myra.
Jake began to cheer up quickly after their comments. "Who wants to read anyway? Nothin' but bad news," he said, his face brightening.
"That's for sure." Hank poured Jake another drink and then one for himself.
It was not long after this that a commotion outside drew the three of them out of the saloon. Loren was running to the clinic with Brian in his arms. No one had seen Loren run in a very long time and flocked to the clinic to find out what had happened to the boy. He had just lost his sight which indicated an urgent need for an operation. Michaela rushed to the telegraph office to send a wire for a surgeon, with perhaps a dozen people following her.
What followed was several days of worry, ending with a wire to advise the doctor couldn't make it because of bad weather. Brian had slipped into a coma by then and Michaela was forced to operate on him herself with the help of Jake, the Reverend and Grace, the black woman who had recently opened a cafe next to the livery. The surgery went on for hours and a crowd of people including Hank, waited outside for news.
The episode made him wonder about Zack and how he was getting on. Every month Myra had ridden over to Ruby's to take her the money and she told Hank that the boy spent most of his time drawing pictures. He hadn't seen for himself, but it was looking like he would get the chance as Myra still wasn't fit to ride a horse and Ruby's monthly payment would be due in a week. Although a number of people in town knew that Ruby was bringing up the child, no one other than Myra knew Hank was his father so the only option was for him to ride out there himself with the money.
With Brian still unconscious after the operation, half the town turned out to build the new schoolhouse, the one thing which Brian had longed for so fervently. With so many of the townsfolk working on the building, it was completed in just days, right on time for Brian waking from his coma, none the worse for the surgery. Relieved, the town got back to its normal routine and Hank got back to thinking about going to see Ruby. And Zack.
He put it off for another week, worrying about seeing his son. When the boy had still lived at the saloon, he had hidden from Hank. In fact he'd hidden from everyone except Myra and Lissy. Hank had never gotten over the guilt he felt for not trying harder with Clarice and for not making an effort to be a father and he had no idea how he was going to feel when he saw the boy. However, he never got the chance to ride out to Ruby's place.
"Hank?" Myra walked around the bar to join him where he was putting away clean glasses before the saloon opened for the day. She rested her hand on his arm.
"What?" he grunted.
"Dr Mike and Sully just went by in their wagon with Zack."
"What?" Hank looked at her in alarm.
"I ain't sure, but it looked like there was a body in the back. A foot was stickin' out."
Hank's stomach somersaulted. Had something happened to Ruby? If that were the case, what was going to happen to Zack? Michaela would no doubt interfere and start asking questions like she always did. His first thought was that if someone found out Zack was his, the whole town would be talking about what a good for nothing failure he was as a father and they would all be right.
"Go and find out what's goin' on," he told Myra.
She nodded and gave his arm a squeeze before setting off outside. When she returned half an hour later, it was to tell him that Ruby had been found dead in her cabin, with Zack hiding in the closet. Michaela was checking him over and trying to find out something about him.
"What did ya tell her?" demanded Hank.
"Nothin, I ain't spoken to her," Myra said. "I heard Sully talkin' to Brian."
Hank continued to worry about it until the following day when Ruby was buried. Michaela had taken Zack home with her and after the funeral, began asking questions again. Hank hung around, trying not to look guilty as Loren, Olive, Jake, Horace and the Reverend stood talking to Michaela and Sully.
Between them, they told her Zack's mother had been a whore and that she got sick and died and the boy went to live with Ruby as she'd once worked in the saloon years before. Loren went on to say the boy 'wasn't right'. Hank felt progressively more ashamed of himself and stayed mostly silent until the discussion was over.
Michaela took Zack home again, then returned to town the following day to buy him some new clothes from Loren before taking him to Jake for a haircut. Hank was in there waiting to have his beard trimmed and found himself sitting next to Zack for a few minutes. He peered at the boy from the corner of his eye for a moment. He had Clarice's eyes; a little more brown, but with a hint of that honey colour in them. It made him wonder if there really was a heaven and if Clarice was scowling down at him for his cowardice at that moment.
The following day he pulled himself together and did something about it. The last thing he wanted was Michaela taking it upon herself to adopt Zack, or worse, sending him off to live with some other family Hank knew nothing about.
"I want ya to go and get Zack," he told Myra. "Bring him back here."
Myra's eyes widened. "Ya gonna tell folks he's yours?"
"I dunno. I should." He sighed heavily. "I wanna try and do some good for him. My own pa beat hell outta me, but at least I knew who he was. Zack don't know who his pa is. Now he's older, he can do some jobs 'round here."
"I'll go now," Myra said at once.
"I'll hitch the wagon up for ya," Hank told her.
"I'll be alright to ride a horse now. I ain't sore no more," she told him. "I'm hopeless at drivin' anyhow."
Hank nodded and led her outside to the corral, quickly saddling his horse and helping her up onto it. A little over an hour later she was back, with Zack riding up behind her, holding on tight around her waist. She rode around the back of the saloon and Hank went out to lift them both down.
Everyone in the saloon, Loren and Jake included, looked up and stared open-mouthed as Hank and Myra ushered Zack inside, Hank giving him a broom and a list of instructions to keep him busy. No one said anything, but it was obvious they had plenty to think about. It would only be a matter of time before they started talking.
Less than twenty-four hours later, two drinkers started on Zack, teasing him and calling him an idiot as he mopped the porch and slopped water onto their boots, prompting Hank to launch himself at the pair of them and dish out a volley of punches. When they finally stumbled away, leaving Hank with a bloody nose but otherwise unhurt, he went over to the clinic to have the bleeding stemmed and find out if Michaela was still nosing into his business. It turned out she had already guessed the main fact.
"You're his father, aren't you?" she said. She proceeded to point out how he had repeatedly taken up for Zack and then stung him by asking why he left the boy alone for so long, goading him into a response.
"He wasn't alone!" snapped Hank. "It was me that found a place for him. It was me that paid every week for twelve years to make sure he had food and clothes."
"He didn't need money. He needed his father." Michaela was only telling him what he already knew and when he slammed out of the clinic moments later, he only felt worse than he had when he went in. He had failed the boy and there was no way of changing that except to make things better in the future. He just didn't know how to.
Zack continued working in the saloon for the next few days and was out sweeping the porch when Hank heard Brian talking to him, begging him to draw something to prove to everyone he could. Glancing outside, Hank spotted Loren, Olive, Jake, the Reverend and Michaela all across the street gossiping and guessed immediately what the subject was. He pushed open the swing doors and stepped out onto the porch. The group across the street were on their way over now and Myra slid out of the doors too and stood behind Zack and Brian.
"What can I do for you folks?" Hank asked.
Loren, Olive and Jake took turns at pointing out that it wasn't right for Zack to be living at the saloon and he would only cause trouble.
"The boy's stayin' right where he is," responded Hank.
"Who are you to decide?" Loren spoke for the group.
Hank hesitated for a moment, his heart thumping. Slowly he reached out and drew the broom out of Zack's hands, dropped it on the ground and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I'm his pa," he said quietly. "That's who."
Loren's jaw dropped and the others looked equally astounded, except for Michaela who gave him an encouraging smile, more with her eyes than her lips. Meanwhile Zack looked up at him in wonder, seeing him as his father for the first time. Hank turned him around gently and steered him back into the saloon. No one followed and it was several minutes before Myra reappeared, taking Zack to the one vacant room at the back which had never been refilled after Lissy left and giving him some drawing materials to keep him busy.
The rest of the day dragged. The saloon was full, people no doubt even more curious about Zack now they knew he was Hank's son, but no one said a word. They drank and gazed about and eventually left, while Hank looked at the clock every ten minutes and longed for the last one to leave so he could lock the rest of the world out.
At last it was over. He locked the doors, took a bottle and a glass and sat down at one of the tables. The girls had retired and he stayed there alone, working his way down the bottle and thinking. He had no idea how to be a good father or what to do to give Zack a good life. All he knew was scorn and beatings, being made to feel ashamed and worthless. He was well aware that working in the saloon was no kind of life for the boy either, but at the same time he regretted sending him away after Clarice died. He sighed heavily and refilled his glass once again, but didn't pick it up. He heard quiet footsteps behind him, approaching slowly and then a hand touched his arm.
"What d'you want?" he asked.
Zack unrolled a large sheet of paper and laid it on the table. "For you, Pa," he said softly.
It was a picture of Clarice; every little detail perfect, drawn only with a thick pencil, but somehow capturing the light in her eyes, the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair curled softly around her face. Tears sprang into his eyes as he thought of the love they shared, which had in the end been more on his side than hers, and the boy they made whom Hank had spent twelve years avoiding and who had now called him 'Pa'. The tears spilled over and tracked down his cheeks into his beard. He was barely aware of Zack retreating quietly from the bar. He sniffed hard and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He hadn't heard Myra's silent footsteps after Zack left and almost jumped when she touched his shoulder.
"Hank?"
He slid the drawing further along the table so she could see it over his shoulder.
"Zack drew that?"
He nodded.
"Ya still miss her?" she asked, her voice full of sympathy.
"Not now, I just wish things coulda been different."
He turned sideways on the chair and looked up at her. Much to his surprise she slid her arms around his neck and lowered herself onto his lap. He wrapped both arms around her at once and hugged her tightly, pressing his face into her hair and catching a scent of that French perfume which she hardly ever wore any more. It was a long time since he'd been with her - months - and she felt so good, warm and soft in his arms. She had come to him and for the first time in as long as he could remember, it was the last thing on his mind. He took her to his room and drew her into bed, but simply held her, closed his eyes and slept.
Hank was up, scrubbed and dressed the next morning before Myra even woke. She opened her eyes as he was pulling his boots on.
"Y'alright, Hank?" she asked, sitting up slowly.
"Yeah." He smiled briefly.
"Goin' somewhere?"
"Yeah. I'll tell ya when I get back."
He left her there and went out. It was early still, but Michaela's horse was tied up outside the clinic and he guessed she was in. She was the only person he could think of who would know how to help. Being a know-it-all had its advantages, he thought wrily and crossed the street, the rolled up drawing of Clarice in his hand. He showed her the picture, told her Zack had drawn in and that it was his ma.
"I know I ain't gonna be the best father," Hank began. "I wanna try to give him a home, but I know he deserves better than sweepin' the saloon. What do I do now, Michaela?"
She told him about the art school in Denver she had asked about a place for Brian, mistakenly thinking he had a talent for drawing, when what she had seen had actually been Zack's work. She promised to send them a telegram and ask if Zack could take Brian's place and Hank accompanied her to the telegraph office to send it. Michaela dictated the message to Horace, explaining that Zack was a sweet boy, but a little different and that he had great talent. Hank listened and glowered at Horace, daring him to say anything derogatory.
The reply came from the school that very afternoon, saying they would be happy to welcome Zack as a pupil and that he would be well taken care of. They looked forward to receiving him as soon as his father was able to take him to Denver. Within days, the arrangements were made, Hank had bought Zack a whole new wardrobe and a fine piece of luggage to transport everything in. He booked tickets on the stagecoach for Saturday morning and it seemed that half the town turned out to see them off. Much to Hank's surprise, no one was condemning him for keeping his son hidden for years or saying he was a poor father. The only comments he heard were how lucky Zack was to be able to go to such a wonderful school and that Hank was doing the right thing, giving him the opportunity of a good future.
A couple of people shook his hand and Myra stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek briefly before stepping back until she stood by Horace, who put his hand on her shoulder. Hank turned away and lifted Zack into the coach before following and pulling the door closed. The hell with Horace. Right now there was something much more important to think about.