SHADES OF GRAY

By Atonia Walpole

(Picture creations also by Atonia)

Part 1

Its way too early, not even proper daylight, and way too cold.  Camilla Lucinda Bradford slipped her face beneath the quilt where the air was warm from the heat of her body. Perhaps sleep could still be found in the warm darkness.

Stephen Bradford sat on the side of his bed in his long johns, listening to the silence of the pre dawn morning. Something…there was something. He reached for his pants, boots, coat and his rifle.

“Stephen?” Jane Bradford sat up in the bed, listening to the disturbed silence in the darkness of their room. She, too, reached for her boots and her coat, tucking her hair underneath the collar. Cautiously she climbed down the ladder from the sleeping loft. Cold air circled around her bare legs and up under her warm flannel nightgown. The door hadn’t latched completely. She took a gun from the rack and followed her husband out into the night.

“Huh,” Camilla sat up wide awake now. Rifle fire and then two more shots, a scream and another shot. She scrambled from her bed only to see the ladder taken away from her side of the loft. She doesn’t know her father has done this to help conceal her before he went out into the night. She lay down flat on the floor.

“Mama?”

The door is thrust open and she withdrew from the small opening to the floor. Voices she doesn’t know, laughter and the sound of things breaking. Someone is in her parent’s room laughing, tossing things about. She cannot see anything. She’s grabbed her blanket and pillow and gone underneath her bed as she had been taught from an early age. The bed is really too small for her. Her father was going to build her another in the spring. She could hear muffled sounds through the walls and feel the cold air through the mud chink in the wall behind her bed.  She closed her eyes tight and tried to disappear.

“Ain’t nothin’ up here.” The voice was close.  She stopped breathing.

Camilla lay there cramped under her bed for hours, long after any sounds could be heard down in the house or the ground around the house. It was the smell of smoke that brought her out.  She pulled a knitted shawl from her chest and moved along the wall to her parents' room until she felt the log move. She pulled it back and crawled through. The room was a mess. Sunlight coming through the small window showed clothes and her mother’s things tossed about.

“Mama?” she said quietly. Moving to the ladder, she looked down into the main living area of the cabin. Like the bedroom it had been ill used. She leaned over the opening and, seeing no one, she climbed down the ladder.

“Daddy?” She carefully walked around the room, trying to not step on broken crockery. Her shoes were upstairs in her chest. She was thinking she should have… flames were coming from down at the barn. She opened the door to see the snow marred with footprints, horse and human. Near the barn she saw their pig had been butchered. So much blood. The pig’s internal organs lay on the ground in a congealed glob, all heat having evaporated.

Someone had tried to set fire to the barn but the hay was wet from the leak in the roof and it hadn’t caught, only smoked with a little flame here and there. The barn door was open; the horses were gone and the cow was gone.

So much blood. She looked down at the ground around the door and to the side and saw her father lying at an odd angle, staring sightlessly at the sky. “Dadddeeeee!” she wailed and ran to him, only to see her mother near him in a heap. Blood…so much blood.

“Aaaiiiiieeeeaahhh!” she cried, falling to her knees in the snow. “No, no, no, no!”  She covered her eyes. She cried for them for awhile and then stood up, dizzy with emotion and looked down at her gown and her feet.  Blood trickled down her legs and she screamed, fearing she too is dying.

So began her womanhood at the age of 15.

There was something so raw about the whole thing. The blood on the snow, blood on the man and woman, the squealing pig and its blood on the snow. He’d found it hard to eat the flesh of it. It wouldn’t go down and only the chiding of Herod had made him swallow it. Lost in his silent private thought space as he rode along, he thought maybe he was going soft as Herod had told him. Killing in cold blood and stealing a man’s horses and cow, burning his house down, his barn…this was nothing new. He hunched his shoulders in his coat and pulled the scarf up over his nose. Maybe it was the blood on the white snow. Pure white snow, unblemished when they got there and completely fouled when they left. He had to pull to the side and vomit again.

“What’s the matter with you, Cort?” Ratsy rode over and laughed at him. “You better get over it quick.”

But he didn’t get over it. The sickness went deeper and deeper until he shot a priest who’d saved him. He tried to leave the gang then but it ended badly. Now five years later he was finally rid of Herod. He’d had a chance to become a sheriff in Redemption but he’d turned it down. He knew every gun in the country would be around to try him. He’d end up with a bullet in his heart…eventually. He was sick of guns and the smell of gunfire…and smoke.

He was on the road now, his hands still bandaged and mostly useless. He traveled by night and found a place he could hide out during the day when he could see what was coming and maybe get a little sleep. He was so tired and hungry. A lean-to off the road caught his attention. He barely made it off his horse before he fell onto a pile of feed sacks and passed out.

He was remembering the first time he ever laid eyes on her. Half froze and covered in blood. It took him a while to figure out what had happened. She was mostly incoherent. He took her in the house and helped her clean herself up. She was having her monthly and he’d been embarrassed for himself and for her. She didn’t have any idea what was happening to her, thought she was dying. He hadn’t counted on a 15 year old girl left alone up there with her dead mama and daddy lying out in the barnyard. He managed to bury them for her and was going to leave her. He was on his way out of Contention.

But then he couldn’t do that. She couldn’t look after herself and likely as not Indians would have had her off that place with her Daddy gone and all. It didn’t suit his lifestyle to have a young girl hanging around. He took her to San Francisco to a woman he knew there. She suggested he send her back east to school. And that’s what he done…five years ago. He was waiting for her to get off the train in Tucson. He was curious to see what his money had paid for and to see what she’d growed up to be.

He was unprepared for what she turned out to be. A low whistle came through his teeth, a slow shaking of his head.

“Ben,” she smiled and ran toward him, slowing at the last minute, reminding her of the spectacle she must be creating. She touched her amber-colored hair put up under her hat and then smoothed her pale gray skirts.

“Well, Miss Camilla Bradford, ain’t you a picture.” He smiled and offered her his arm. “If you hadn’t said my name I’d not have recognized you.”

“I recognized you.”  Her eyes danced on him. “It’s so good to see you again. I thought so many times you must have forgotten all about me.”

“Not likely. I been payin’ your bills for five years. You’ve turned into a lady.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint you. I know you were hoping I’d find someone and marry.” She looked down as they walked to collect her bags.

“I won’t deny that. Now I’ve got the same problem I had five years ago except now it’s…complicated.” Complicated indeed. He wasn’t sure what their relationship was. He’d taken her as a child and kind of acted as her benefactor. It was a situation he didn’t want but couldn’t see a way out of it other than to turn her over to the brothels in San Francisco. She’d been traumatized and was dependant on him. He couldn’t bring himself to do that. Now she was back, still dependent on him, but she was no longer fifteen years old. He found his eyes flowing over her straight shoulders and slim waist as she stood before him, instructing the porter about her luggage.

“Have we a carriage?” she asked, bringing him back from some rather dark thoughts.

“A carriage, yes, we do.” He smiled and led her down the platform.

Her belongings were loaded and he took up the reins of the buckboard. “Not quite a carriage,” he apologized. “I suppose I should look into something a little fancier. I’m usually on horseback.”

“Still alone.” She smiled and patted his arm. “I thought you might have married.”

“Me/ Hah! Not sure I’m the marrying kind.”

“But you’ve settled down. I got the letter about a ranch?”

“The ranch…well, I do own it now. Not sure how settled I am,” he said lightly in her direction.

“You’re not traveling on business anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, Camilla. A man has to work. Tell me about you. Have you learned anythin’ in that fancy school?”

Eight miles out of Tucson they turn down a dirt road. It wound a way through the rocky terrain.

“Whoa,!” Ben pulled back on the reins and stopped the buckboard.

“What is it?” Camilla asked.

He was already down from the wagon and walking toward a lean-to. A saddled horse was standing by it. “Easy!” he said to the horse as his hand moved to his holster and to the handle of his gun. He spoke to the horse again, then stepped into the entrance of the lean-to. A man was lying on the feed sacks. He don’t look too good. Ben toed him with his boot and pulled his gun. The man rolled over on his back and opened his eyes.

“Ben Wade,” Cort said weakly.

“Cort, what the hell are you doing here?”

Part 2

Cort was loaded on the back of the buckboard and his horse tied to the rear. Camilla kept looking back at him.

“How do, Ma’am?” Cort raised his hat.

“Hello.” She quickly turned back around. “He’s sick,” she said to Ben.

“Looks like it.”

“He should have a doctor.”

“Now, Camilla, you don’t even know what’s ailing him.”

“He’s a friend of yours?”

“Not sure he’s a friend, more like an acquaintance. We’ve crossed paths a few times.”

“His hands are injured.” She glanced back again.

Cort shifted his position and lay on his back, feeling every jolt of the buckboard. He had a terrible headache.

“Yep.” Ben made another turn, the ranch hacienda visible now.

“Oh, how different it is! I was picturing something like a farm.”

“It is a farm and a cattle ranch. I reckon it’s more Mexican than you’re used to livin’ back east. Things are different.”

“Yes, they certainly are. More people and real cities and towns. I liked Philadelphia.”

“You could have stayed.”

“I could have but it wouldn’t have been proper for me to have a house of my own. I don’t have any…people except you, of course.”

“I’m not your people.” He cocked an eyebrow and pulled the buckboard to a halt.

People appeared around the buckboard to carry her baggage to take care of the extra horse he’d brought back and then questioning what to do about the man in the back of the buckboard.

Ben said something in Spanish to the men. Cort was half-carried and half-walked into the house. They disappeared down a hallway with him.

“Ben, this is lovely.”  Camilla walked through the large, open room decorated with local pottery and blankets thrown over sturdy-looking leather furniture.

“It's home for me now. I’ve had ‘em take your stuff to the end of the hall. There’s a nice room there for you to stay in.”

“May I see it now?”

“Yeah, I’ll show ya.” Ben led the way down the hall. Half way down he paused at a door and looked in. Cort was undressing with the help of a young man. He left them and opened the door for Camilla.

“This doesn’t look like the rest of the house.” The room was painted a pale blue and lace curtains were hanging from the adobe walls covering the windows.

“It ain’t the rest of the house. This is foreign country in here.”

“Am I foreign?”

“Yes, Camilla, you are.”

She could almost believe him. She, too, was confused about their relationship. She was no longer a child and no longer looked at him with a child’s eye. He was a handsome man and although she could not have put a word to it, he projected an animal magnetism that drew her to him. He, however, kept her at arm’s length.

She smiled a little, walked over to the window and pulled the lace back to look at her view.

“I reckon I’d better see to my other houseguest. If you need anything call for Maria.”

“Maria?”

“She kinda looks after things here in the house.”

“I’m a guest?”

“Yeah…well, I don’t rightly know what you are. We ain’t related so, yeah, you’re a guest.”

She nodded slightly.

The tub was filling up in Cort’s room. Bucket after bucket being carried in and dumped in the copper tub. He still sat on the side of the bed, holding on to the bedpost for support.

“Reckon you won’t drown?” Ben walked in and tested the water with his hand.

“I might. Just throw me out in the desert if I do.”

Ben looked at his hand around the post; the bandages were off. “That looks like it hurts.” He came a little closer. “Broken…gun butt?”

“Yeah.”

“You been in bondage? Where the hell have you been?” Ben noted his wrists and other injuries.

“Hell mostly. I come from Redemption.”

“The Redemption that blowed up?”

“That’s the one.”

“I heard you blowed it up. Is that so?”

“No, wasn’t me. A little blind boy accomplished that.”

“You kill Herod?”

“That wasn’t me, either. I couldn’t even get that right. A woman killed him.”

“What was you doin’ there? Come for the gunfights?”

“I was brought there by Herod’s men and forced into it. I left him, you know. I became a padre.”

Ben chuckled, “You? Ha!”

“It’s true. I tried to lead a different life, trying to make up for some of the things I’d done. But he found me and dragged me back into it.”

Another bucket of water and the tub was full enough.

“Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll send somebody in here to dress your wounds. Maybe you need some food, too.”

“I appreciate it, Ben.”

“Manuel will see to you.” Ben backed out of the room. He glanced down the hall toward Camilla’s room then headed back to the other wing of the house where he had his rooms.

Ben went into his office. He was still getting used to having the space, of having an actual home. He’d been there for six months now. He hadn’t made any changes yet because it seemed to be running itself just fine. He had a good foreman and a lot of Mexicans to do the work. His line of work had slacked off about a year ago. After Contention he never put together another gang. Here and there he picked up a few men but after a job was done they dispersed.

He’d retrieved some of his money he had stashed across the border, intending to purchase the ranch from the former owner. Things had gone badly after the meeting they had with the surveyor. He wasn’t sure he wanted to sell at the price they’d agreed. Ben managed to convince him otherwise and the sale went through even though the man went missing. After a while the deed was signed over to him and the money sat in the bank in Tucson. It suited Ben for it to sit there. He could go after it when he wanted to.

Over at his desk he lit a thin cigar. There was the matter of Cort to deal with. When he’d said they weren’t friends he hadn’t been kidding. Herod was a monster and Cort had been with him since he was a kid. Ben didn’t hold with the things Herod did and his men were worse than animals. Maybe Cort had tried to leave and if he did that was a good move, but still he had all those years behind him that no amount of knee crawlin’ prayers were gonna wash away. He’d let him hang around until he was fit and then send him on his way. Besides, Ben didn’t need a killer at the ranch.  Cort was well known in some circles and he was trying to keep a low profile.

He watched the smoke curl away into the air…then there was Camilla. He really never thought to see her again after she went to school. He figured she’d meet some nice businessman back east and settle down. She’d written him a letter telling him she would be coming home. She thought of him as home? There was nowhere else for her to go. He realized it and sent her money for her ticket. Five years is a long time. The scrawny little girl he sent east came back a full blown woman. He decided the best thing he could do was to find a suitable man and marry her off as soon as possible.

Camilla unpacked her trunks, freshened up and changed her clothes. She started down the hall and the smell of food was coming from the open door of Cort’s room so she stopped, looking in. He was seated at a table with his newly-bandaged hands presenting quite a problem with a knife and fork.

“May I help?” she asked.

Cort smiled a little. “If you could just cut up the meat for me I think I can manage.”

“Of course.” She moved over to the table and cut up the piece of steak into small bite size pieces. “It sure smells good.”

“I’m obliged, ma’am.” He looked up, meeting her gaze, his light eyes soft and clear. “My name’s Cort.”

“Camilla Bradford. I’m pleased to meet you, Cort.”

He wasn’t properly dressed and felt a little embarrassed in his soft cotton pants and shirt. Manuel had provided him with Mexican clothing while his were being washed.

“What happened to your hands?”

“Broken. They’ll be all right.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your meal.” She smiled and moved away from him for the door.

“Thank you…again,” he said, holding her for a moment with a look.

Camilla blinked, her hand went to her face, and she turned and left him.

Part 3

“This is all yours?” Camilla turned in the saddle and looked around the landscape.

“Yep, goes nearly to Mexico, down to Nogales. “ One of the things that attracted Ben to the property was that it bordered on Mexico. He could cross over if he needed to.

“You must be very proud.” She smiled and shaded her eyes.

“Not sure pride has anything to do with it.” He turned his horse toward the trail.

She still hesitated, looking toward the horizon. “I’ve missed this…wide open spaces.”

He stopped, turning his horse again toward her, “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember, though I try to block it out and mostly I’m successful. The air is so pure here. so pure and clean.”

Ben narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “You should have stayed in Philadelphia. There ain’t nothin’ clean and pure out here.” He looked back toward the trail and then at her. “We need to start back. Got company comin’ for dinner. Take time to make yourself look real nice.”

“What? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Time to go.”

She moved out behind him and then rode abreast with him down the trail. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Camilla kept stealing glances at him and wondering what went on in his mind. He was so mercurial it was hard to follow him.

Once they reached the stables she asked, “Ben, have I upset you?”

He reached up to help her down from her horse and let his hands linger on her waist a moment. “No, you ain’t upset me.”

The nearness of him took her breath. She parted her lips and looked into his eyes. He abruptly dropped his hands from her waist and left her standing in the stable yard. She pulled her hat up from her back, set it on her head then walked toward the house. He wasn’t the man she remembered. Then she reminded herself that she hadn’t really known him at all. She spent a month in his company moving from Tucson to San Francisco. She’d based her recollection of him on the letters he’d written to her. She still had them. In his letters he’d been warm and friendly, describing things he’d seen and enclosing a sketch or two. They were never long, only a page, maybe. They were enough for Camilla to build up a man in her mind that she hadn’t seen since she arrived. He was cold and reserved and only  giving her a brief glimpse of the man she thought she knew.

She’d been at the ranch for a week and had seen little of Cort. He did not sit down at the table with them for meals. Ben cut off any questions she had about him and told her to stay away from him. Her natural curiosity, however, drove her to him whenever the opportunity arose.

Cort was in the courtyard sitting in the sun. Camilla hesitated a moment, looking toward the house, then walked over to him. “Hi. How are your hands?”

“Getting better. How was your ride?”

“It was wonderful,” she smiled. “Good to see open spaces again. Although I loved Philadelphia and the opportunities there, a part of me yearned for horizons.”

Cort had been trying to figure out just how she and Ben fit together. He already surmised they were not related. “How long have you known Ben Wade?”

“Five years and a bit.” She sat down on the fountain beside him. “How long have you known him?”

“Longer than you. How did you meet him?”

“He rescued me after my parents were killed and sent met to school. I’m very grateful to him.” She looked into his face. The bruises and scrapes were fading from his tanned skin. He was younger than she first thought. She noted his coat, which had been cleaned and repaired. There was something familiar about it.

“Is that part of a uniform?” she asked, indicating his coat.

“I suppose…I’m…I was a padre.”

Of all the things he might have said, that surprised her. “A father! I…really? You can’t be ‘was’ if you’re a priest.”

Sadness fell over his face. “Yes, it is possible.”

“I’m sorry. I just…how do you become a non-priest?”

“It’s a long story, Miss Camilla.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She liked his soft spoken tongue. “Where were you going when you became ill?”

“Not sure. I didn’t even know where I was. Is it fate that brought me to Ben Wade, I don’t know. I don’t know what tomorrow means. I’m probably not good company for you, Miss Camilla.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I think you’re very good company. I hope your hands continue to heal and if I can help, please call on me.”

“You do cut a fine piece of steak,” he smiled and it lit up his face and his eyes.

“Yes.” There was so much she wanted to ask him. He intrigued her to no end. He was also very handsome and knew his manners. Her eyes rested on his lips for a moment, a look that was not lost on Cort. He blinked and shifted on the edge of the fountain.

“You’d better go in.”

“Yes, I’d better.” She smiled a little smile and left the courtyard. As she hurried down the hallway to her room she couldn’t rid herself of that flutter in her breast. Had he almost…no, he hadn’t moved. She’d wanted him to kiss her. She ran a hand over her lips, wondering what it would feel like. She’d been kissed before in Philadelphia by a man who had asked her to marry him. She’d refused and found his kisses repulsive. There was nothing repulsive about Cort.

She wore her pale blush silk dress trimmed with lace and ribbons for dinner. Ben had asked her to pay attention to her toilette. Camilla thought it must be someone important coming to dinner. She bit her lips until they were a rosy pink and picking up a lace shawl, left her room. She could hear voices coming from the large gathering room. Ben was talking with a man and woman and also another man, standing a little away from them and looking bored.

“Ah, there you are, Camilla.” Ben held out an arm and she went to him, smiling.

“This is my ward, Camilla Bradford. Camilla, may I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Bakersfield, recently located here to Tucson from New York.”

“How do you do,” Camilla greeted.

“And this is their son, Roger Bakersfield.”

Roger perked up at the sight of Camilla. “How do you do.” He bowed slightly over her hand and kissed it.

Camilla quickly withdrew her hand and nodded her head toward him. She thought he was a bit forward.

Dinner soon became unbearable for Camilla. She was placed on Ben’s left with Roger beside her. His father sat across from him with his mother on Ben’s right. Ben was at his best, both charming and witty. He seduced the Bakersfield’s completely. Roger kept his knee pressed against her and occasionally a hand slipped beneath the table and groped about her lap. She was appalled and had moved as far to her right as was possible. Her silent pleas to Ben went unanswered. She finally did the only thing she could think of and took her salad fork beneath the table, jabbing hard at his hand.

“Ahh!” he said and withdrew his hand, tasting the blood on the back of it.

Ben glanced at him and then at Camilla. He couldn’t suppress a smile and quickly covered his mouth with a napkin.

Roger spent the rest of the meal with a napkin wrapped around his hand while his mother cut up his meat and buttered his bread for him, casting cold glances at Camilla.

The agonized evening crept on. After dinner they retired to the gathering room. Cognac was passed around and Camilla took a glass, receiving a look from Ben. He hadn’t meant for her to drink. She tried to be as sociable as she could under the circumstances. The circumstances being that Roger was all but drooling down her neck. She couldn’t rid herself of him. The fork incident only fueled him on. Ben contrived to make sure they were together on the sofa.

Camilla was now in the midst of a  slow burn. It was a good thing the Bakersfield’s left when they did. She set her glass down on the table and grabbed her wrap.

Ben came back into the room after seeing his guests off. “Well, that was an interestin' evening. What did you do to young Bakersfield?”

“Less than I wanted to.” She looked him in the eye. “He insulted me at the table and you did nothing to stop him.”

“You managed that pretty well without my help. Besides, you need to get to know him. His father is a rich man and not in good health. They came out here hopin' his lungs might improve. Roger’s an only child and is near your age…perfect marriageable material.”

She laughed a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious. It’s time you married…you’re ready for it.”

“I won’t…not him. He was horrible.”

“You may not have a choice in the matter. It’s a proven fact that women on their own do not make good choices. They need guidance and direction and a firm hand.”

“I can’t believe this is coming from you, you who wrote to me of freedom, freedom to fly or to walk when and where you want to. How can you arbitrarily throw me to the wolf? He was salivating all over me. I thought I might be sick.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m lookin' out for you, Camilla. I’ve got your best interests at heart. I want to see you settled.”

“You want to be rid of me!” She ran from the room, lifting her skirts as she went.

Ben finished the drink he had in his hand. The truth was he did want to be rid of her. She was a temptation he didn’t need and temptation she was…all soft and pretty. He left the room and stepped outside. Soon he found himself at Maria’s door and she let him in.

Part 4

“Are you all right, Miss Camilla?” Cort came up on her out in the courtyard.

Camilla came in to breakfast fully ready for a fight and Ben wasn’t there. Maria informed her he’d gone into Tucson.

“Of course.” She looked at him quickly.

“None of my business. I heard you comin’ down the hall last night. You sounded upset.”

“I was…I am. Ben’s begun to parade prospective bridegrooms before me. I won’t be treated this way.”

Cort frowned a little.   “I thought…I was under the impression he might be the bridegroom…no?”

“Ben? No, Cort. We’re not like that. I mean…oh, I’m not sure what we are! He introduced me as his ward last night so I guess that’s what I am.”

“Okay, so you’re not involved romantically with Ben Wade?”

“Why do you ask me this?

He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just observin' that’s all.”

“I have never been ‘ involved’, as you say, with Ben Wade.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

They fell in step and walked around the courtyard and out into the tree plantations. “Are you from here, Cort?”

“Arizona? Yeah, I think so. That was a long time ago…things go fuzzy.”

“I know what you mean but in my case I don’t mind if they go fuzzy. What happened to your hands? How did you end up with broken hands?”

“I was chained to a table and somebody crushed them with a gun butt.”

“Oh!” She put her hand on his arm. “How awful, oh, Cort. Who would do such a thing to you?”

“It’s all over now and it don’t matter. I don’t come from a good place, Miss Camilla, and likely I ain’t goin' to find a good place to go to.”

“You’ve suffered a great deal. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Sometimes I think the Lord is testin' me. He wanted to see how mean and nasty I could get before I turned away from violence. Then he wanted to see if I had really forsaken violence. I guess he knows me pretty good. I don’t want it but it seems to follow me.”

“No, no, I believe if a person wants to change they can. You’re free to do anything you want to. You could go back into the priesthood.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that again. Priests don’t kill and I have since I renounced all violence. A word of advice, young lady, be very careful who your friends are. Be careful who you follow.”

“I don’t have any violent friends.” They’d stopped under a tree with low hanging branches. “I suppose you…renounced women, too.”

“The priesthood didn’t leave me…I left it. Not of my own free will but I’m out of it now. I have not…renounced women.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. It was something he wouldn’t have done unless he had already received a signal from her that it would be okay.

She tasted her lips. “You must think I’m…”

“I don’t think anythin'. You’re a beautiful young woman who needed kissin'. You did…right?”

“Yes, I think I did.” She laughed a little to cover up her nervousness. “I…I’d like to do that again. You see I’ve only ever been kissed by a repulsive rat.”

Cort smiled, “Well, come here and let’s do it proper like.” He kissed her softly at first but then it took him further than he intended. She was soft against him and he held her in his arms as the kiss deepened.

She made a little sound when he broke the connection, a little mewing sound that went right into his pants. He backed away from her.

Camilla opened her eyes and saw reflected back in his what she was feeling. “Cort,” she breathed.

“Shh,” he cautioned. “Don’t make anythin'of this. It was just a kiss. Maybe a little more than that,” he chuckled. “You know that kind of thing can get me killed. You’re a good kisser.”

“So are you. I guess you’ve kissed a lot of women to get so good at it.”

“Look how good you are and you only kissed a rat. We probably need to, uh, move on out of here.”

Although he’d told her not to make anything out of it she couldn’t help herself. Just as she’d fashioned a whole man from a few letters ,she now made another from two kisses. She’d touched his face, rough with unshaven cheeks She was not unaware of what happens between a man and a woman. One of her school friends had described it in detail. Up until now she had not thought about that. Cort had awakened her desire and as she lay across her bed supposedly taking siesta, her hands traveled over his body and there were kisses and kisses and more. Alas, her pillow didn’t hug her back.

She was now focused on Cort as she breezed about the house. She had her meals with Ben but he’d been careful about spending time with her other than to exchange pleasantries. Arrangements had been made with the Bakersfield’s regarding her marriage to Roger. They were the perfect candidates. Being from New York they were not familiar with Ben Wade. He’d managed to steer clear of the law since his last capture and thwarted trip to Yuma. Anything he’d done since then couldn’t be pinned on him. No witnesses. Nobody had mentioned the outlaw Ben Wade in years.

The fact that Camilla had rejected Roger didn’t enter into his mind. A woman didn’t know what she wanted half the time. He figured once Roger bedded her she’d calm down. In fact she’d already calmed down. He’d noticed her smiling face and sweet dreamy ways. Maybe she’d had second thoughts.

Ben didn’t see much of Cort, whether by design or accident he didn’t know. He certainly didn’t look him up. Manuel had reported that his hands were healing nicely. It was his intention to let him stay there until his hands were healed. A gunman was a sitting duck without his weapons. Cort hadn’t even been able to hold a fork much less a gun.

On this particular day Ben rode out with his foreman. After a while it was the sound of gunfire that led him over a ridge. He rode his horse slowly down the hill and saw Cort practicing with his gun. Ben rode up within sight.

Cort was reloading. “Hey, Ben.”

“Cort.” He dismounted and walked over to where Cort had been shooting at a piece of wood. “Looks like you got him dead on.”

Cort grinned a little, “I ain’t so sure he didn’t wing me, though. I’m rusty.”

“Let me see them hands.”

Cort held them out.

“They ain’t pretty but they look a damn sight better.”

“I keep flexin' ‘em. They’ll be okay.”

“Well, good. I meant to talk to you about when you’re leavin’. Not that I don’t mind your stayin’. You ain’t been a bother at all.”

“I can be outta here tomorrow.”

“Well, don’t take it that I’m throwin’ you out.”

“I ain’t. It’s probably time I left anyways.” Things were getting a little too hot between him and Camilla. He hadn’t planned on it but she…he couldn’t leave it alone.

“Any idea where you’re headin'?”

“Phoenix and maybe north. I need to go somewhere I ain’t been.”

“Good idea.”

“I ain’t in the business of killin’ no more. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Well, I wish you luck. Just keep your head down and you’ll do all right. Maybe you can go back to preachin’.”

Cort shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He gathered up his ammunition and his guns.

“Lemme see you hit it one time,” Ben half smiled.

Cort holstered his pistol, looking over at the piece of chewed-up wood. In a blink of an eye he drew and shot.

Ben narrowed his eye and walked over to Cort. He took a stance and looked at the wooden square. In the blink of an eye he, too, drew and shot. The two men looked at each other for a moment. There was nothing to say. They mounted their horses and rode off in opposite directions.

“What do you mean you’re leaving tomorrow? No, no, Cort!”  Camilla’s arms went around his neck, holding on tightly.

“It’s time. I told you I couldn’t stay here. I’m sorry, honey.” He kissed her, fisting her hair in his hands. “I wish things were different but they ain’t.”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“You think Ben would allow that? No, that can’t happen. I don’t know where I’m goin' or what I’m gonna do when I stop.”

“Ben can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m not a child anymore. Cort…I think I love you.”

“Don’t love me. Remember I told you?” He traced her upper lip with a finger. “I ain’t the kind of feller to fall in love with.”

“Yes, you are.” She kissed him until he set her away from him.

“Go back inside, Camilla, before something happens that shouldn’t.”

“What if I want it to happen?”

“You don’t.”

Part 5

Camilla was quiet and sullen through dinner. Ben kept trying to engage her in conversation. He had arranged for a picnic in two days for Roger and Camilla with Manuel in attendance, of course, to maintain propriety. He was trying to tell her about it and caught on real quick that she wasn’t listening.

“Have I done something to upset you?” he asked.

She hesitated. “You’re sending Cort away?”

“Cort?” Ben became quiet.

“He’s leaving tomorrow.”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

She’d forgotten to keep quiet about their relationship. “Nothing…nothing at all. I just feel bad for him, that’s all.”

“No reason for you to. He’s a grown man, able to take care of himself. He was only here until he was well enough to travel on.”

She took a drink from her glass and began to cut up her meat and eat, concentrating on her plate.

But the damage was done. Ben’s curiosity was up now. “I thought I told you to stay away from him. He’s a killer, Camilla, and a killer of the worst kind.”

“He’s also a very nice man. It’s hard not to run into someone staying a few doors down from you.”

“Did you hear what I said? He’s a killer. He rode with Herod and that bunch killed for fun, men, women and children, it didn’t matter. That’s the kind of feller he is. That’s where he’s come from. That kind of thing don’t wash away. He killed a priest.”

Camilla listened to him and it was hard to put that kind of a description on the man she knew. He’d told her himself he wasn’t fit company for her.

“That’s why I told you to stay away from him and I reckon you ignored that.”

Camilla wasn’t going to be brought back into it. “This sure is good roast. You wouldn’t think Mexicans could make roast.”

Ben stared at her. “I’d better not catch him around you, you hear me?”

“Yes,” she glanced up at him, “I hear you.” She also heard the steel in his voice.

As she walked down the hall to her room she noticed a light under Cort’s door. The thought of never seeing him again almost brought her to tears. She changed out of her dress into a dressing gown. Pacing back in forth as she brushed out her hair, she began to think of a way.

Cort was in the stable before dawn. He had his saddlebags packed and loaded with food Maria had fixed for him to take, spare shirt from Manuel. He saddled his horse and brought it out. He’d made the decision to go north and looking up at the stars, he charted his course.

The sun was barely up over the horizon and still casting shadows down the mountainside. Cort spotted an abandoned adobe and headed for it. It was time to break out one of them biscuits and make some coffee. He tied his horse up and went in gun drawn because you never knew. However, it was empty and he built a fire in the fireplace using some broken furniture and chaparral from outside. He was still on Wade property but not far from the border.

He had water from his canteen on to boil with a little coffee when he heard someone coming. He pulled his gun and moved to the door, barely opening it. His gun dropped to his side.

“Camilla, what are you doing?”

“Oh, Cort, I know this is crazy  but I can’t let you go alone. I want to go with you. Ben is trying to marry me off to that Roger Bakersfield and I can’t let that happen. It's you I want and only you. Please don’t send me back!” She latched onto him.

He kicked the door closed and turned around with her still hanging around his neck. “You are crazy, Camilla.”

“I know you’ve done some bad things but that’s all in the past. I know you…you’re a good person inside.”

“I ain’t nothing inside, honey. Go back,”

“No, I can’t. I love you, Cort. Don’t you love me a little bit, too?”

He hugged her close. “Yes, I do. I do love you a little bit.” He smiled and touched her nose.

“I’m…I’m wanting to give myself to you.”

“What?”

“You know…”

He started shaking his head.

“You don’t want me?”

“Well…that’s…I’ve been wanting you for a long time.”

“I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. I can help you, Cort. We can start together somewhere, just the two of us beginning a new life.”

He looked into her eyes and could see that happening. “It won’t be easy.”

“I don’t care. We can make it. Make me your wife,” she said softly.

He knew it was insane but he looked around the room and spotted a ladder going up to the second floor. He climbed the ladder, sticking his head through the opening.

“Ain’t nothing up here.”

Camilla backed away. Something opened in her mind…that voice.

The door burst open.

“Hold it right there, Cort,” Ben said evenly.

Camilla covered her mouth and made a sound. “Ohhh…it was you!”

Cort looked at her and so did Ben. She was making keening sounds and went down on the floor on her knees.

“What is it, Camilla? Did he hurt you?” Ben was concerned.

“It was you…you killed them…killed my mama and my daddy. I remember your voice.”

Ben was back with Cort in his sights. “Was it?” he asked.

“I don’t know who your parents were,”  Cort said, feeling a weight on his chest.

“Up on Black Eagle ridge… a cabin. There was snow on the ground. I buried her parents,” Ben stated.

Cort blinked...Snow…red snow. He remembered. “I didn’t kill them. It wasn’t me that shot your daddy and mama.”

“You son of a bitch! I ought to shoot you right here!” Ben yelled.

“It was Herod that shot. My gun never left  the holster. It was you…you bundled up under that bed?”

She looked up at him. “You saw me?”

“Yeah. I saw a blanket and a foot. I figured it was a kid.”

“You murdering son of a whore!” Ben went toward him and Cort drew his gun.

“NO!” Camilla stood up and got between them. “No…no, more killing. You said…no more.” She looked at Cort.

“I ain’t gonna stand here and let him shoot me.” His eyes never left Ben.

“Get out of the way, Camilla,” Ben said low and steady.

“No, I won’t.” She turned to Cort. “Ben found me and took care of me.”

“I’m glad he did. What was you doin’ up there on Black Eagle Ridge?” Cort asked.

Ben raised his chin. “Lookin’ for a meal. I saw smoke and followed it. Turned out to be the barn. She was standin’ out there in the snow barefoot and nearly froze to death.”

“It made me sick, physically sick. You ever done somethin' that made you feel that way?”

“Yeah, in Contention.”

“You killed your gang, all of them.”

“Yeah. It bothered me for a little while.”

“I wanted out. I wanted to quit. It took me two more years to get out from under Herod.”

“What gang?” Camilla asked Ben.

“You don’t know who he is?” Cort asked her. “He’s an outlaw, stagecoach robbery bein' his specialty. How many men you killed, Ben?”

“I never counted 'em.”

“I never knew that about you.” Camilla looked at Ben. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“What would you have done with that knowledge? It wasn’t somethin' you needed to know.”

Part 6

Camilla rubbed her eyes. “Please, both of you, put your guns away. I don’t want to see either of you dead in front of me. I’ve seen enough blood to last me for a lifetime.”

Ben and Cort eyed each other then slipped their guns back in the holsters.

“What are you doin’ up here, Camilla?” Ben asked.

“I was going to run away with Cort.”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Ben said.

“I tried to get her to go back,” Cort added.

“You …shut up!”

“I love Cort and you want me to marry a man I don’t love.”

“You don’t have to do anythin'you don’t want to, but lovin’ Cort is not an option. I didn’t save you all them years ago to turn you over to the likes of him. He might've saved you from Herod but he left you there with your dead mama and daddy to fend for yourself.”

“There wasn’t nothin' else I could do…he woulda…”

“I said…shut up.” Ben looked menacingly at Cort. “I want you to come home with me, Camilla. We can forget Roger Bakersfield but he’s gonna be mighty disappointed.”

“Why don’t you let her make up her own mind?”

“Why don’t you shut up, Cort? This ain’t to do with you anymore. This is between me and Camilla.”

Cort stared at Ben. “Why don’t you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“Tell her that you’re in love with her.”

Camilla’s eyes went wide and she looked at Ben for an answer.

“I told you this ain’t nothin' to do with you…why you don’t…get on your damn horse and get out of here.”

“I got a coffee pot burning up over there on the fire.”

Ben ignored him.

Cort went over and kicked his coffee pot from the metal stand sending boiling coffee over the bare dirt floor. He began gathering up his things he’d brought in.

“Is it…true?” Camilla asked.

“Don’t pay no attention to him. I said I’d do right by you and I will. If Bakersfield don’t suit, well, I’m sure there are plenty more out there that…” he backed up because she was walking toward him.

Cort repacked his bag and took it out, stuffing it in his saddle bag. He went back inside the door and looked at Camilla.

“I’m goin’. If you want to come with me you can.” He had his hand on his gun.

“Why didn’t you tell me you cared for me? Every since I got back you’ve acted like I had a disease or something. I couldn’t even get close to you. I spent time rereading the letters you’d sent to me, trying to find a clue as to why you didn’t like me anymore.”

“The truth is I never liked you. You were a scrawny-assed little girl when I sent you away. I never thought to see you again. Then the letters started comin’. Every week you wrote to me. I was months gettin' them so they came in a pile. No way could I answer all of that. But I read ‘em. I got to know you a little…I thought. I couldn’t picture you as anythin' but that little girl. It was a shock when you got off the train. I started havin’ thoughts about you  that I figured I shouldn’t be havin’. So I thought I’d marry you off as quick as I could before I did somethin' I might regret.”

“I couldn’t wait to see you when I got off the train. You see, you’ve been my hero all these years. You saved me, Ben. I know a man doesn't want a 15 year old girl hanging on him so you did the right thing by sending me away. I didn’t understand it at the time but I do now. I kept thinking that you wouldn’t be paying my expenses and for my school and my clothes if you didn’t care for me. I built you up into this perfect man.”

“Well, I ain’t perfect. I reckon you know now what I am.”

“I’ve known a different man for the last five years. One who is intelligent and observant and is a good sketch artist. One who made me laugh and cry. I never asked what you did or how you made your money. Money that’s paid for my education. I suppose it didn’t matter.”

“It should matter. You…you deserve a man that can make you happy, give you children, a man that ain’t lookin' over his shoulder for the law. The truth is I ain’t no better than he is.” Ben looked toward the door but it was empty. He went over and looked out. “He’s gone.”

“I know.”

“You said you loved him.”

“I did. But he wasn’t my first love. You are. I pretended  you were my lover and you wrote to me once in a while when you had time.”

“Aw, Camilla, you wasn’t old enough to know about lovers. I never wrote nothin' like that.”

“I know you didn’t but a girl can pretend.”

“You’re too old to be pretendin' now.” He moved toward her. “Why don’t we make it…real?” He took her in his arms and kissed her.

That was the end for Camilla. This was what she wanted, to be in Ben’s arms and to know he loved her. What he was didn’t matter to her. She knew a different side of him and one she’d grown to love.

“Hey, kissin' me makes you cry?” he asked, rubbing her cheeks with his thumb.

“Happy tears. I’m so glad you came after me.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t know but I was prepared to go with him if you didn’t.”

“You know it’s funny how we take a simple thing and make it so complicated.”

“Love is simple?”

“Ah, well, maybe I should rephrase that. It’s probably the most complicate thing in the world. It ain’t so hard to say it, though. I love you, Camilla. I never thought I’d be sayin' that to you.”

“I love you, Ben, and those words are not strangers to my lips.”

He smiled a little. “I reckon we’d better get on back. That spilt coffee smelt pretty good.” He took her hand and led her out of the adobe. “I said I’d do right by you. We’ll get a preacher and do it up right. I ain’t waited all this time for you to grow up and be thinkin' about messin’ it up now.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little messin’ up.”

“Well, you know that’s why you need me. 'Cause a woman left to her own devices ain’t got good sense. She needs guidance and a firm hand.” He lifted her chin and kissed her before helping her up on her horse.

Camilla smiled down at him. “Guide me.”

He grinned, shook his head a little and mounted his horse. “Follow my lead,” he said over his shoulder and started back for the ranch.

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