"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
January 1882
Maria had to catch her breath. She very nearly fell down that time. It was January, and it was a treacherous time of year for ice. Ice collected on everything - from the frost on the window panes to the stalagmites hanging from the rooftops. Not even the boardwalks were safe. It was the third time that day Maria had to catch herself from slipping. Little Brad Collins was not so fortunate. He fell down, sprang his ankle, and caused much excitement in the town by his piercing screams. It took his mother and a whole lot of candy to calm the poor child down.
When she nearly fell down the fourth time, Maria wondered if she was going to make it home in one piece. She delicately stepped around several frozen mud clods on the boardwalk, avoiding a particularly large one just outside the bank. She could hear angry voices coming from inside the building. No doubt, the bank had just misplaced a customer's money. Maria remembered how that once happened to her Aunt Elinor in Maine. It took three weeks before the error was solved.
Maria shrugged her shoulders, thinking about her own fortune. At least it was safely tucked away in the bank.
Just then, a burly man stormed out of the bank, carrying a large bag. He nearly ran into Maria, and then he promptly tripped on the frozen clod just outside the bank. The contents of his bag spilled onto the frozen street. Money was not all that fell out of the bag. A bloody knife nearly landed at Maria's feet.
Maria screamed, realizing what had just happened. She tried to run, but the burly man grabbed her by the ankle. She crashed to the boardwalk, and the man was on top of her. He rolled her around and grabbed her by the neck. She could feel the knife bite into her skin.
"Watch it, lady, or you'll get like the bank teller got," the man growled.
"Pick it up!" he yelled to a nearby townsman, indicating to the spilled money. "Pick it up, or the lady gets it!"
Old Mr. Wilcox nervously complied, getting down on his knees to scoop the money into the bag.
"Hurry!" the bank robber barked. By then, he had brought Maria to her feet, nearly strangling her in the process. "Hurry!"
By then, a crowd had developed around them.
"Get back!" the bank robber yelled to them.
"Give me the money!" he ordered Mr. Wilcox.
The old man held out the bag fearfully. The bank robber snatched it, ferociously knocking the poor man down. He did not let go of Maria. Instead, the knife dug deeper into her skin. She winced as she felt her own blood dripping down her neck.
"Get me a horse!" he thundered.
The townspeople, transfixed in horror, did not move.
"Now!" he yelled, "or the lady gets it!"
Maria cried out as the knife burrowed into the soft part under her chin.
She knew she was going to die.
"A horse!" he ordered.
Several people ran toward the livery.
Her very life depended on how long it took them to travel out of town, Maria knew. Once out of Curtis Wells, the bank robber would have no need to keep her alive. They could not be allowed to get on that horse.
She began to struggle. She would rather die here in town than alone in the cold.
He yanked her hair back. The cold knife blade stroked down the length of her neck. "Give me a reason," the man growled into her ear.
Hot tears fell from her eyes, but she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain.
Maria then heard the bank robber grunt into her ear. She felt his grasp on her loosen, and she pulled away from him. Remarkably, he let her go. Maria turned around to see the bank robber fall to his knees, a started look in his black eyes. The knife was still in his fist. The man fell face downward at her feet. Newt Call stood behind him. His eyes were wild. Maria could see the torn flesh on his hand.
It took a moment for Maria to realize what had happened. Something protruded from the dead man's back. The icicle was already melting from the man's blood.
She looked up at her blood brother. He had done this. He had saved her life.
She launched herself onto him. Maria did not know who was shaking worse, herself or her blood brother. They held each other for a long moment. She was still shaking when he pulled away. He pressed a bandana to her neck.
"You should see about that," he said, concern still evident his eyes.
"Your hand is hurt," she said, reaching out to tend him.
By then, the townspeople had drifted away. Some men picked up the body and took it to the sheriff's office. Other men took the bank teller's body to the undertaker.
Maria and her blood brother stood in the street. He helped support her as they made their way to Dr. Cleese's office.
She knew that she was dreaming, but she could not stop it.
The big man had her by the hair. He yanked it back so hard that she grunted in pain. Tufts of it were clenched in his grasp, and soon the knife ripped through every strand of her hair. Her hair collected at her feet, as if she sat in a bloody nest. The pain was unbearable.
She could not move. She was tied up in a hell from which she could not wake.
Then the other man came at her. He straddled her. He touched her places that no one had ever touched before. The vulture circled her and taunted her. Then he clutched the knife.
The knife ripped down her bodice and dress and petticoats. It slashed into her skin. She was naked and bleeding.
The knife was still in his hands. He exposed himself to her.
"Say hello to papa," he sneered.
"Give me an excuse," she heard another man growl into her ear.
Maria cried out, waking up from the nightmare. Her heart pounded. It was a dream, she told herself. It was all over. They were all dead, and they could not harm her again. Nothing remained of the encounter except a few scars. Even her hair had grown out.
The room was dark, but Maria was shaking so badly that she did not trust herself to light the oil lamp. Instead, she clutched her knees. The moon offered little comfort.
She rocked silently on her bed. Every time she closed her eyes she could see them. She could feel them. She could hear them. She could not go back to sleep. She would have to wait until it was morning.
"He checked out?" Maria repeated after the hotel owner. She could not believe what Miss Carpenter had just told her. Her blood brother had been living in the hotel for months now. She needed desperately to talk to him about her nightmares, and now it seemed that he had left town. "Why would he do that?"
"Hell if I know," Miss Carpenter replied. "You might be able to catch him, though. You just missed him."
Maria nodded at her and rushed out of the hotel.
He couldn't go. He couldn't.
Tightness clutched the insides her stomach.
She had to tell someone how she was feeling. She would have gone to Mr. Mosby. Mr. Mosby understood what happened to her that awful night. He knew about the scars. He would have known how to help, but both he and Mr. Shelby were out of town on business.
She had told no one about that night. She had told no one about the scars. No one. That included her family. It included her blood brother. She supposed that she would have to tell Mr. Shelby about it one day, but it would not be now. Even if he had not been out of town, she was too badly shaken to tell him.
That left one person. He would know how to help -- that is, if he stayed.
He was just saddling up the Hell Bitch when she caught him.
"Newton, I need to talk with you," she said breathlessly.
He turned around, and Maria could instantly see that something was wrong. Dark circles etched his face, and his eyes hinted of some kind of pain. Maria recognized it at once. He only looked that way when he thought of Hannah.
"Gotta go," he said, turning back to face his horse. His voice caught. He was trying to hide some deep emotion.
"Good God, Newton," she exclaimed. "What is it?"
He must have had nightmares that night, too. Instead, he had nightmares of ... her. He suffered from a different kind of hell.
"Gotta leave," he repeated. He tied a saddle bag on the horse.
"You can't leave," Maria told him. He was hurting too badly. They were both hurting. They needed each other. "But I need your help."
He turned back to face her. His eyes blazed with a mixture of guilt and helplessness. "Can't help nobody."
With that, he mounted his horse.
She caught his leg. "If I said something ... if I did something," she begged. "I'm sorry. Please stay. We can help each other."
He looked down at her. "Weren't you, Maria."
"Please help me," she asked again.
Conflict tore at his features. He swallowed hard, and then he spurred his horse.
Maria watched him leave town. She stared after him long after he had disappeared from her sight.
Later that day, Maria could hardly believe it when she saw the older man ride into town. He could not have known that he was too late. His son had already left, and Maria did not know what she was going to tell him.
She was not sure if Captain Woodrow F. Call would understand why his son was gone. She watched the older man as he unsaddled his horse in the livery. He stepped out from the building, looking around expectantly. The older man appeared fatigued from his journey.
No one in town seemed to recognize him. Those that did notice him steered clear of him. His blue eyes demanded a distance from anyone that met his gaze.
He reminded her so much of her blood brother that it startled her.
He walked toward the hotel.
Maria could not help but follow him. She kept her distance.
She watched him as he checked into the hotel. He took off his hat when he addressed Miss Carpenter. He asked her a question, and he seemed disappointed by her response. Then he noticed Maria at the door. He looked at her expectantly, his hat still in his hands.
In trepidation, Maria walked up to him. "Captain Call."
He nodded awkwardly at her. He fingered his hat. "Ma'am."
He probably did not remember her, Maria thought. It had been a year since they had last met. "I'm Maria Bennett. I am related to Newton by marriage. I'm Hannah's cousin."
"I know," he said, giving her a single nod. "You were here last time."
Maria nodded at him. An awkward silence followed.
He put back on his hat and turned towards the staircase.
"Newton's not here, Captain."
He turned back around, taking off his hat. "I know." As if an afterthought, he added, "His name's 'Newt.'"
She nodded absentmindedly. He waited for her to say something, then he replaced his hat on his head.
Maria bit her lip. "How long will you be staying?"
He took off his hat, annoyance in his eyes. He gestured. "Till morning. Just passing through. Got business in Oregon."
He waited again for her to respond. She did not let him put on his hat this time. "Will you be having dinner here tonight?" she asked fearfully. She felt the need to talk with him. He needed to know about his son.
"I reckon so."
"May I ... eat with you?" she stammered.
His blue gaze bore through her. After a moment, he nodded. He made his way up the stairs.
"Something wrong?" Austin asked when she did not respond to his stuffing snow in her bonnet. Maria merely brushed it out.
She was lost in her thoughts. Flashes of ... them ... appeared before her. They were interspersed with the torture she had seen in her blood brother's eyes. The images swirled before her as if they were in one endless dance.
"Hey," Austin said, gently touching her arm. "You all right?"
Maria shook her head, her thoughts returning to present. "I'm fine," she lied. "What were you saying?"
"What's wrong with you, anyway?" Austin demanded. "You haven't been the same since ..." He looked at the cut on her neck. His jaw twitched. "I guess you're still pretty shaken up."
Maria nodded. She would let her cousin think that if he wanted to.
"You wanna talk about it?" he asked. He kicked at the snow nonchalantly. He tried to appear unconcerned about her answer.
Maria regarded him. She remembered all the times that her cousin had hurt her in the past. It still smarted. At least he was trying now. She was grateful, but she still did not trust him.
She shook her head.
He kicked violently at a piece of ice. "You'd tell your precious 'Newton.' But that's right," he said sarcastically. "He's gone."
"Oh, Austin," Maria reprimanded him. "Stop it. Can't you see that he's hurting just as much as the rest of us? Something happened when that man put a knife to my neck - it reminded him of something. I just don't know what it could be."
Austin's jaw clenched. "Tavish had Hannah that way," he said harshly. "Except it was a gun. That's what they tell me. Then there was the explosion. Call didn't save her. That's what happened. He didn't save her, and then he ran away. The bastard."
Austin regarded Maria, his eyes hard and cold. "He saved you, though."
Maria felt the full force of his meaning. She wished that he had just punched her instead.
Austin shook his head and then stalked away.
Maria closed her eyes, sighing.
Tortured images were still before her.
He sat alone at a table in the Lonesome Dove Hotel. He was already eating his dinner.
She did not know what she needed of him, other than she needed to talk. She did not know what she was going to say to him. Her heart pounding, Maria walked over to his table. Captain Call awkwardly stood up when he noticed her. She sat. He sat.
He ate. She did not say anything to him. She ordered some tea when the waitress came to their table. Maria did not order any food. Just tea.
She stirred her cup as the older man ate his dinner. When the older man was not paying attention to his dinner, his gaze would look up at her curiously. Then he would return to his food.
He ate like a man, Maria thought. He drank like one, too. He held his coffee by the cup, not by the handle. It appeared as though he drank his coffee black.
She stirred her tea. It was getting cold.
"Did you know Hannah?" Maria asked so quietly that it was almost a whisper.
The Captain did not reply. Maria thought perhaps that he did not hear her. She did not want to repeat the question. It was somehow pointless.
"Met her once," he finally answered.
Maria nodded. She finally took a sip of her tea.
He drank some of his coffee.
"He ran away because of her, you know," Maria said, finally telling the older man about his son. It all came pouring out of her. "He can never deal with her death. He won't. It's too painful. He's out there now because of her. He needs her so much. Others need him, but he can't ..."
Maria stopped. She stirred her tea violently. "He's not there when you need him."
The Captain looked at her in confusion. "The lady hotel owner said the boy saved your life."
Maria smiled sadly at him. The older man did not understand her point. "He did at that, sir. I can always trust him to do the right thing. He has better instincts than most men, and I think I can thank you for that. But when it comes to reaching out ..."
Maria stirred her tea again.
The older man looked as if he wanted to get away.
"He's my blood brother. I think he loves me, but I don't think he'll ever admit to it, " she added bitterly.
The older man looked befuddled. The conversation obviously made him uncomfortable.
Maria regarded him. She smiled apologetically. He did not understand what she was even talking about. He did understand her on one level, she hoped. It would be even more difficult to discuss than her blood brother.
Maria bit her lip. She placed down her spoon. It took a long moment to gather her courage.
"Is it true about the Jornada del Muerto - the Dead Man's Walk?" Her voice was small. "Newton told me about it once. Did they really lash your back?"
The Captain did not reply. He was lost in his memories.
"Does it still hurt? I have scars on my back, too ..." Maria could not continue. She stared into her tea cup.
"Don't think about it much," the Captain replied gruffly.
"Is that what you do?" Maria asked hopefully. "You don't think about it, if you can help it?" She wondered if it was that easy. She wished that she could not be reminded of ... that night. Even more importantly, she wished that she did not have to bear her scars of that other night ... the other night when she was burned. She hated thinking of that, too.
"Not if I can help it," he said. He looked at her oddly.
"How?" she asked. "How do you do it?"
"Not thinking on it, I guess. Work. Find some work to do."
She frowned. Work could not have been the answer. "But didn't you have any friends? Didn't anyone help you out?"
The Captain frowned in return. "I had a friend once. I guess he helped me."
She smiled. He finally understood her point. "Friends can help you out of anything."
He did not understand her behavior. "I reckon so."
"I'm Newton's friend, Captain Call."
He regarded her for a moment, then nodded. "That's good." As if an afterthought, he added, "His name is 'Newt.'"
She laughed at him. "Yes, it is. I'm only calling attention to his full potential. What was the name of your friend, Captain Call?" she asked suddenly.
"Gus," he blurted out.
"Gus ... and you were good friends with him?"
He looked befuddled. "Yes."
His answer reassured her somehow. It gave her hope.
"Things will be all right," she said.
"I reckon so," he answered.
Captain Call left early the next morning.
And then one day, he was at his bench. He just sat there. For several weeks, she had not heard anything about him, and there he was. He lounged peacefully. He was as still as deep and untroubled water.
She calmed her breath. She had been patiently waiting for his return. She was annoyed, but patient. She had something to say to him.
"Newt Call," Maria said.
That got his attention. His hat eased up off his face.
"I'll have you know that when Mr. Shelby found out about the deadly peril that I was in that he kissed me most passionately. I also want you to know that he has been hoping to thank you for saving my life. Since you've been gone, neither of us has been able to thank you for the service that you've performed on my behalf. So, thank you."
Mr. Call's eyes narrowed at her curiously. Then he shrugged and replaced his hat over his face.
"I'll also have you know something else. It's about when I die," she added, sitting down beside him.
His body tensed. Maria knew that she had his full attention, even though he did not lift up his hat.
"Believe me, I don't plan on dying, but if I do go before you, you need to know something. I am your sister. I love you, and I'll always be with you. You may think it is sentimental mush, but I'm in that part of you that no one can ever reach. I am with you always. There's no escape from that. I'll be there like she will always be there. But there is just one thing, Newton - you must remember my love for you and live your life. You live. And you love. When you love someone, you don't begrudge them loving someone else. She would want that for you, too. There, I've said it. Now act accordingly."
She stood up and straightened her dress. She had intended to walk away and let him think about it, but he stopped her.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice strangled.
She smiled broadly at him. What she said next startled her as much as it did him.
"Absolutely nothing."
Then she walked away.
May 2003