DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television
program "Lonesome Dove: The Outlaw Years" are the creations of Rysher Television, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not to be
published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
Here is a revised version of Unbound.
"Maria Bennett" is the creation of Darcie D. Daniels.
Water burbled out of Maria's mouth as Mr. Call pounded on her chest. Her lungs felt like fire, and it was freezing. She coughed furiously, and Mr. Call moved away from her.
"For God's sake, Newton," her voice shivered, still coughing. Her chest was really hurting. "Do you want to break my ribs?"
Mr. Call sighed in relief, sitting back on his haunches.
Maria enjoyed the frivolity of breathing the cold air.
She lost her glasses. She could hardly see.
"You got the wolf," Maria said after moment. "Good for you."
"What wolf?" Mr. Call demanded suddenly. "What the hell were you trying to do? Kill yourself? You know better than to go out onto half-frozen ice like that."
"A wolf attacked her," a man's voice suddenly said. "I'm surprised you didn't see that."
Both Maria and Mr. Call were startled and looked towards the voice. Maria squinted to see an older man with white hair and a peppered beard. He wore animal skins, and he held a large, smoking rifle. Obviously, he was the one that killed the white wolf, not Mr. Call. Maria did not know who he was, yet there was something familiar about that man. Mr. Call recognized him, Maria was entirely certain. His pale blue eyes instantly winced in pain. Then his eyes regained their former aloofness.
"Well, go on," the man commanded as naturally as breathing. "She's freezing. Get her inside."
Mr. Call's mouth twisted into a grim line.
"Yes, Captain," he finally grunted.
If tripping was a sign of good fortune, Maria's luck had finally turned. Sort of. She clutched her arm as it bled all over her wet dress. She realized that if she had not tripped, the stray bullet could have wounded her much worse. She might even be dead.
How Maria tripped, she did not know. There was nothing in the path. Her knees just simply, and in hindsight, miraculously gave out. It was like she had been given a second -- no, third --chance at life.
Maria could not believe it. Captain Woodrow F. Call, Mr. Call's father, was in Curtis Wells. And he managed to save her life by killing the white wolf. Then Newton pulled her out of the icy water and saved her life again. Then her lack of grace saved her life once more by falling down and diverting the stray bullet.
It was all too much. Maria felt like crying right there in front of Mr. Call and his father. But she could not ... she was in shock over the entire situation. Besides, it simply would not do.
Both Mr. Call and his father kneeled to tend to her. Mr. Call quickly tore part of her dress and applied a tourniquet to her arm. He cursed and mumbled underneath his breath.
It hurt and throbbed. Why did Newton have to be so rough?
"What happened to this town?" she heard Captain Call wonder aloud. Apparently, the last time he visited Curtis Wells, it was quite different. Once upon a time, there were no shootings in the street -- and certainly not ever in morning light.
"Hell took over," Mr. Call promptly muttered.
"What happened here?" she then heard Mr. Mosby demand as he stood over them. He took an ascertaining glance at her wet dress and bloody arm, and then noticed Captain Call and seemed to be taken aback. He had not seen him in a long time.
Maria was getting tired of squinting. It was quite a bother not to have her glasses.
The Calls helped her to stand.
"That bullet was meant for you," Mr. Call told Mr. Mosby, anger surfacing in his voice. "She could have been killed, and it would have been your fault."
Maria was not sure what he was even talking about. She was not even sure who even shot her. She was very confused.
"It was an accident," she heard The Captain say. "There was a struggle for the gun, and the gun went off. Even the girl could tell you that."
So that was what happened, Maria thought. She could tell them that, all right.
"The bullet was meant for Mosby," Mr. Call restated emphatically. Even with her near-sightedness, Maria could see his brilliant blue eyes shining in anger.
The Captain clearly disagreed, but he did not say anything. His mouth only twisted into a disapproving line.
Mr. Mosby's eyes narrowed at the bounty hunter, and then he shook his head as if shaking off a pesky fly. "Perhaps you should get her to Dr. Cleese, Call," he told him, his drawl almost as if addressing a small child. "She seems to be in obvious distress."
Maria could feel Mr. Call tense against her, readying to throw himself against the town proprietor. Mr. Call was obviously too excited.
Maria really did not know if she could take any more of this. She decided to appeal to the only person there with any common sense.
"So," she said conversationally, turning to the older man. "You're Captain Call."
Maria was really beginning to feel faint and nauseous. She forgot why she was addressing him in the first place. She leaned against the older man's arm. "Did you know that he's my blood brother?" she rambled, indicating to his son. "What does that make us? I'm not sure, but I would like to have a father again. Not only that, but we are sort of related marriage-wise. I'm his wife's cousin, you see, so really it makes you my uncle. I have an uncle, but he doesn't like me. I hope that you'll like me," Maria blurted, feeling very flushed. The older man looked almost trapped. She continued, "My, it's hot this morning, isn't it? Anyway, I think Newton is just wonderful. He's absolutely wonderful."
With that, Maria promptly fainted in Captain Call's arms. Before she fainted, she felt that Captain Call handled the situation quite nicely. Captain Woodrow F. Call was quite the man.
Though Captain Woodrow F. Call was short in stature, he was the tallest man that Maria ever knew. Not even a strong wind could bend him.
Newton Call was the spitting image of his father. There was no doubt about it -- even when he was slouching upon his bench.
"Do you think I ruined things with your father?" Maria asked him, quickly sitting down next to him. She was careful not to hurt her arm. It had only been dressed a couple of hours. "I really shouldn't have fainted. He probably doesn't think much of me."
Mr. Call only adjusted the hat over his eyes. He did not want to talk.
That action never deterred her. "I did not think I'd like him, Newton," Maria confided. All she knew of Captain Call was that it took him years to acknowledge Newton as his son. She did not approve of that, and she considered that a main reason why Newton was so aloof today. "But he did save my life, you know. And he caught me. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt."
"It doesn't take much to win you over," Mr. Call muttered in his hat.
"And he's a lot like you," Maria said, smiling at him.
Mr. Call quickly jumped up from his bench, his blue eyes blazing hotly. "He's not like me. I've never been like him. Ever."
With that, he strode away.
Later that day, Captain Call was at the livery patting the muzzle of the Hellbitch. His gestures were so remarkably similar to Mr. Call's that it was startling.
"Newton is good with horses, too," Maria interrupted him.
The Captain quickly took off his hat to acknowledge her. "Yes," he nodded rather awkwardly. "I know." Then he corrected, as if an afterthought, "His name is Newt."
"Yes," Maria laughed, repeating after the older gentleman. "I know."
The man gave her a queer look, and then clamped his mouth in a tight line. He really did not know what to say to her. He was better able to deal with horses and men, not some girl. He nodded at her, put his hat back on, and tended to the horse.
"Captain Call," Maria interrupted once more. Again, the man took off his hat. His eyes had the look of annoyance about them.
There was no doubt. This was Newton's father. The son would get the same annoyed look about him, too.
"I really must thank you for saving my life. I'm afraid you and I are the only people in town that ever saw that white wolf. The whole town thinks I'm crazy."
The man nodded as if in agreement. He patiently waited for her to speak. Apparently, he was anxious to put his hat back on.
Maria almost laughed at him. The father was as charming as his son was.
"I'm not sure what I was rambling on about before I fainted, but I wanted to thank you for catching me, too," Maria added.
The Captain nodded again. "That's all right, ma'am," he finally spitted out.
He was definitely a charmer -- just like his son, Maria concluded.
"I hope you plan to stay for awhile."
"For a day to rest my horse," he replied. Then he gestured with his hat, "Then I'm off to Missoula."
"Is Newton going with you?" Maria asked him.
The man only looked grimmer in response. Maria did not think Mr. Call would go with him. As far as she knew, the father and the son barely spoke to each other since The Captain arrived in Curtis Wells.
"You know, Newton took my cousin's death very hard. He became a bounty hunter directly after that."
Captain Call was made aware of Maria's relationship to Hannah shortly after Mr. Call pulled her out of the water.
"Yes, I know," Captain Call responded about the bounty hunting, the tone of disapproval evident in his voice.
Maria frowned and decided direct the conversation in another area.
"Did you like Hannah, Captain? I didn't even know her."
"Yes," he answered. "I liked her. It's a shame what happened."
They stared at each other in silence. It was getting harder for Maria to pry a conversation out of him.
He nodded again and put back on his hat.
Maria sighed. The father was as eloquent as his son was, too. It seemed to be a miracle that they even said twenty words to each other in a lifetime.
Maria wondered how she was ever going to get him to stay in Curtis Wells for reconciliation with his son. A day was not long enough.
Maria decided that Mr. Call should not be at the Ambrosia Club, especially when his father was in town. It just did not look right. Not only that, she was entirely certain that Captain Call would leave as soon as his horse was rested. She knew enough of the man to know that he probably would not say goodbye if his son were drunk in a saloon.
Maria shook her head. She did not like to enter the Ambrosia Club. Aunt Elinor would never have approved.
Thankfully, it was busy enough that no one seemed to care that she was inside that place. She spotted Mr. Call rather quickly and threaded her way to him at the bar. She sat next to him.
He was started on a bottle of whiskey. His growl indicated that he had no wish to speak. He merely grunted to acknowledge her gall upon entering the establishment and daring to follow him in there in the first place.
The bartender looked at her expectantly. Maria had no idea what to order. Mr. Mosby himself once told her that he did not carry sarsaparilla, and she was sure they did not have any milk on hand.
"Er, I'll have what he's having," she said, pointing to Mr. Call.
Mr. Call's eyes rolled to the ceiling. Otherwise, he did not say anything.
The bartender efficiently placed a bottle in front of her. She politely thanked and paid him for it.
She poured out a shot. Her nose crinkled. She would rather drink oil than that stuff.
Mr. Call looked at her, daring her to drink it. If she had the gall to follow him, then she should have the gall to drink the shot.
"Newton," Maria protested, looking at her drink as if it had poison in it.
"Go on," he encouraged her. "Drink it."
Maria frowned and put the glass down instead. "You need to go with Captain Call to Missoula. He's probably going to leave any moment now. I'm sure he would want your company."
Mr. Call gave a half-hearted laugh and gulped another shot. "Not likely, as I see it."
"No, probably not, if you are half-drunk," Maria agreed.
"I don't need no sermons," Mr. Call argued.
"Well, you are going to get one. For heaven's sake, Newton, he's your father," Maria exclaimed.
"I don't have a father."
Maria shook her head. He was stubborn, that was entirely certain.
"Well," she muttered, grasping for anything. "He's mine -- sort of. You being my blood brother makes him related to me. I deserve the chance to know him. It's your duty to see to it."
He laughed at the nonsense of it. "Then you go with him." He gulped another shot.
She sighed. He was being deliberately stubborn.
"He might need your help," Maria suggested. "He's all alone. He's an old man."
Mr. Call laughed ironically again. "You really don't know him, do you? This was the man that took a hundred lashes and still walked the 'Jornada del Muerto.' The Captain can take care of himself."
Maria frowned. She knew that was not going to work.
She rubbed her eyes in fatigue. "You love him, don't you? Go with him."
Mr. Call slammed down his glass and looked at her wildly. He did not say anything, and he quickly stalked out of the saloon.
Maria stomped her foot. She was very near to swearing.
"What am I going to do?" Maria asked Austin in
exacerbation, seeking his advice on the situation. "Captain Call will be leaving here shortly, and Newton is acting like an idiot."
Austin rubbed his mouth, hiding his smile. "Maria, you need to leave it be for once. There's nothing you can do."
That was unacceptable. There had to be something she could do.
"Maria, this goes a long way back. Newt didn't even have his own last name until just right before he came to Curtis Wells, and then his father didn't even come to his own wedding. I had to be his best man," Austin remembered, a glint of sadness in his eyes. He quickly recovered. "You just can't repair something with that much damage."
Austin did care for Mr. Call, though usually he had a hard time showing it. Maria was sure that he regretted the loss of Mr. Call's friendship.
"Austin," she said quietly, "it requires work, but most things can be repaired."
"Yes," he agreed. "But it also requires time -- which you don't have. It's no use, Maria. You can't do anything about it."
Maria sighed. In one sense, Austin was right. Things could not be repaired overnight. But still, things could always get better, if not perfect.
She had to try.
Maria could not try anything after she heard the news. It was as if she had been punched in the stomach. It was not fair.
Miss Florie was pregnant. And there was no doubt as to who the father could be -- Clay Mosby. Everyone in town knew that Miss Florie visited Mr. Mosby's Ambrosia Club until the early hours of the morning. Maria knew that now he had to marry Miss Florie, and that would be the end of him. Maria was sure that every single woman's heart in Curtis Wells was broken.
Not that she ever had a chance with him anyway. Though Maria was in love with him, Mr. Mosby told her emphatically that he did not return her feelings. Hearing that Miss Florie was pregnant only brought out a string of cliches to describe their relationship -- the beating of a dead horse, the final nail in the coffin, the end of the line -- and all of it was unfair.
She sat on Mr. Call's bench and waited for him to appear. Only his comforting presence could ease her mind.
He did appear, though, but not at the bench. Instead, he took to confronting Mr. Mosby on the street. Mr. Mosby, in his brown leather duster, was in no mood for anything, let alone Mr. Call. It was not a good situation.
"I hear congratulations are in order, Mosby," Mr. Call implied.
"Shut up, Call." Mr. Mosby tried to brush pass him, but Mr. Call blocked him. Mr. Mosby's tiger-like eyes snarled.
Undaunted, Mr. Call continued, "First, you finally get land for the railroad, and then Florie... My, my. You are a busy man."
Mr. Mosby's whole body tensed in anger. Then he lowered his voice to a hush. "Any man in town could have fathered that baby. The baby might even be yours."
"But it ain't. The baby's yours, and you know it."
Mr. Mosby shook his head in frustration and attempted to leave again. Once more, Mr. Call prevented him. Mr. Mosby growled at him.
"You going to marry her, Mosby?"
Mr. Mosby's mouth tightened in a hard line.
"You want your baby to grow up as a bastard?" Mr. Call asked in disgust.
Mr. Mosby answered dangerously, "It didn't do you any harm, Mister Call."
That was the wrong thing to say. Mr. Call's fist punched Mr. Mosby directly in the jaw. Mr. Mosby, in turn, hit Mr. Call in the stomach. They both fell on the ground, each taking turns punching, hitting, and kicking each other. It was like a horrible, violent ballet.
Soon, a crowd gathered.
Maria thought it was terribly wrong. They were trying to kill each other. Both their faces were bloody and bruised.
Then a man galloped up on a horse, quickly dispersing the crowd. He halted his horse in front of the battling couple. His eyes looked down in absolute disapproval.
When Mr. Call saw his father's eyes, it was enough to stop him from the battle. Mr. Mosby, however, did not seem convinced. Captain Call merely pointed his finger at the town proprietor, his own black eyes growing hot. Mr. Mosby, his tiger-like eyes still snarling, decided to brush himself off and give up the battle for the day. He stalked away, and life in Curtis Wells resumed as it always had.
Maria sat back down on the bench, relieved that it was over.
Captain Call dismounted and stood by his son, who was busy brushing himself off. Mr. Call's brilliant blue eyes were still flashing.
"He should marry her," he commented argumentatively. "The child should grow up with his father's name."
Captain Call did not say anything for a moment. "Yes, he probably should."
Mr. Call quickly scrutinized his father, and then he shook his head in disgust.
Captain Call seemed to be fighting for words. "Maybe he didn't think he was good enough to marry her. Maybe he could never bring himself to do it."
He seemed to be talking beyond Mr. Mosby's situation, and it was an admission that was very difficult for the older man to make. Mr. Call's eyes softened a bit.
"I'm sorry about Hannah," the Captain said.
Mr. Call was silent for awhile. His eyes were clearly in pain. "Me, too."
"I thought afterward you might go see Clara in Nebraska. She would have taken you in."
"She probably would have at that. But no, sir."
"There's always a job at the ranch for you. You can always come back there."
"No, sir. This is my home now."
Captain Call only nodded.
Then he added, "The name is not important. It never was."
Mr. Call's eyes glistened in sadness. He clearly disagreed.
"Yes, sir," he finally muttered. Tears fell out of his eyes, and then Mr. Call quickly walked away from him.
And then Captain Call rode out of Curtis Wells and out of their lives once again.
Maria felt terribly sad on Mr. Call's behalf. It was such a pity that father and son could not be closer.
"I made you some donuts," Maria told him as Mr. Call slouched on his bench. Her basket was on her arm.
"If you don't want them, Call, I'll eat them," Austin added, walking up to them. Austin looked at Mr. Call almost with a brother-like affection.
Mr. Call looked at them both, and the stared off aloofly. "That's all right, Austin. I think I'll manage."
Austin and Maria regarded each other. Poor Mr. Call was hurt, but they were sure that he would mend. She tenderly left the basket on Mr. Call's bench, and the cousins walked away together, leaving him alone to reflect.
In many ways, Mr. Call was just like his father.
May 2001