Chapter Twenty-Two
It was ten days later. And two days since the battle had ended. The sun shined in a cloudless sky and a gentle breeze blew, as the world had no idea it should feel anguish at what had happened here.
A few of the smaller ranches had experienced lighter attacks and a bit of damage. But the larger Kirby homestead was where the settlers had made their stand. And it was successful. They had fought off the Kerr bunch to the point where a good number of the hired guns were either shot or fed up enough with losing the fight to ride back to Kerr, demand whatever wages they could collect, and move on.
The successful defense of the settlers' rights was due partly to the tenacity of the homesteaders and in great part to the expert fighting of Jess Harper and John MacLaine.
Above all, it was Jess' leadership, planning, strategy, and perfect gunmanship, righteously used, that made all the difference. And his ability to instill in the settlers the belief that they could hold their ground. The epitome of a hero, Jess Harper led them to victory.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Heading through the gate at the Kirby homestead, the weary young man took in the sights of all the activity.
Men sawed and hammered, fixing the damage to the buildings caused by the fires that Kerr's men had set. He cringed at the memory of those flames.
Women busily set out food on tables, moved benches and chairs, and shooed children from getting in the way of the work or sneaking bites of the dinner.
Kids laughed as they chased each other in tag and played kickball, dogs barking and running after them.
Cats meowed and hurried to escape as the younger children hugged them too tightly, while the older girls kept an eye on the toddlers.
The older boys toted lumber from wagons to the barn and sheds.
Horses loped through a large pasture. A few goats and two milk cows wandered lazily in a small paddock. Chickens pecked at the ground and scurried from the feet of human and horse. Cattle grazed nearby, still within the safety of fences rather than out on the range, for the time being.
Normal life, for the most part. He took satisfaction in seeing these families could still enjoy that. Wished he had more memories of his own of a normal life as a kid.
As he rode into the ranch yard, everyone waved and smiled. There were constant shouts of friendly greetings… how are ya, good to see ya, welcome back, join us for dinner, and, more often than all the others, thank you! If he just had a dime for every sincere expression of gratitude he had received in the past week, he would be a rich man. He did feel like a rich man in a way. It was a very rewarding feeling to know the difference he had made here.
He dismounted and hitched his horse to the rail. Walking toward the woman he saw beside the pump, he tipped his hat as she nodded at his approach.
"Ma'am."
Mary Ellen Kirby stepped forward. "Welcome. I'm so glad to see you. And you're just in time for dinner. Have you slept well at the Miller place?"
"Yes, ma'am. They been treatin' me real fine."
"Now, with everything we've been through, I think it's time you called me Mary Ellen. After all, I call you by your first name."
He grinned. "Yes ma'─. I mean… sure, Mary Ellen." He glanced around the yard. "Nice to see everybody goin' about their business. And the kids havin' fun."
She smiled. "Thanks to you and your friend."
"Now, ma'am, I think there's been 'nuff thanks to hold us for a while."
"Well, how could we stop? You two made all the difference in that range war. Because of the two of you, all of us families still have our ranches, our homes, our horses, our cattle…" She paused and looked toward the barn where the men were working. Her voice broke. "Our husbands."
She drew in a breath. "None of our men was killed. Only a few even had injuries. There were a couple of bad wounds among our families' menfolk. But they'll all heal." She shook her head. "It's a miracle it worked out that way. A miracle only possible because of you two."
Humbled, he shifted his feet nervously. "You said to give it some time. A couple a' days 'til I come back. Well… it's been two days. Is it okay now?"
"Yes, of course. Come on in the house." She reached for the bucket she had just filled.
"Here, let me tote that for ya."
He carried the water, following her up the stairs and through the kitchen door. After depositing the bucket beside the sink, he continued with her through the parlor, where he nodded to two women rocking babies. He and Mrs. Kirby made their way on down a short hallway.
They stopped at the door to a small bedroom. Mary Ellen placed her hand on her enlarged belly. "My husband will live to see his baby. My child will have a father." Tears formed in her eyes as she gazed into the room. "Thanks to him."
Clutching his hat tighter in his hand, he looked into the room too. A woman sat beside the bed, worry painting her face as she wiped the sweat off the forehead of his unconscious, bandaged friend lying there.
Mary Ellen whispered, "My Charlie would be dead now, if he hadn't done what he did."
"I know. Him and your husband was both outta ammunition. I saw him jump in front of Charlie… to take that bullet." He swallowed hard. "I saw it hit him."
She dabbed at her eyes. "In the chest. And he's developed a bad fever now."
"But he's gonna make it, ain't he?"
"Too soon to tell. We're doing all we can for him."
And with that thought, they entered the room.
He paused just inside the doorway. Then, taking a deep breath, Mac stepped up to Jess' bedside.