Texas Drive by Bill Dugan Read Free Book Online Page B

skull and the rib cage, lying there like a barrel with every other stave missing.
    Looking at the house was like that now. He didn’t see the porch, he saw Johnny on the porch, swinging in the hammock. He didn’t see the corral without imagining Rafe, one bony leg swinging up over the top rail to drop inside and break a new pony. Everyplace he looked, he saw pieces of a former life. It scraped away at him, like a block plane, slicing his skin away one curl at a time, always closer to the bone, and never long enough between passes to let him heal. He was an open sore, bleeding memory like water running down a sinkhole.
    And Ellie tried to help, but she was no match forthe past. He wanted to believe what she told him. But he suspected she was wrong. He wanted to believe, not because he agreed, but because it hurt too much to think Johnny might have been right. Something
had
gone out of him. He was changed, probably forever, and what mattered most was gone along with whatever else he’d lost.
    When he’d finished the chores, he cleaned up and dressed carelessly. He’d been letting a lot of things go lately. Even Ellie had commented on it. She was right, but he just didn’t give a damn. It seemed pointless to worry about little things when he couldn’t do anything about all the big things that were wrong. That kind of logic made perfect sense to him, and after the third or fourth time she’d complained, even Ellie had stopped noticing.
    He saddled his pony without paying much attention and let it find its own way to the Quitman house. The horse had no trouble, because the only places he ever went were to town and to visit Ellie. The horse took its own time, and Ted knew he was going to be late, but Ellie had gotten used to that, too.
    When he rode into the front yard, she was on the porch, waiting. She ran one slender hand through her dark hair as she smiled at him.
    “Been here long?” he asked.
    “About an hour, I guess.”
    “Sorry.”
    “I don’t mind.”
    “I would.”
    “If you would, then maybe you ought to pay more attention to the time.”
    “I thought you didn’t mind?”
    “I don’t, but you said …”
    “I know what I said, Ellie …”
    The look she gave him stopped him in his tracks. “Sorry. I just don’t think anymore.”
    “You can’t let Johnny run your life from a thousand miles away.”
    “He doesn’t.”
    “Yes, he does. Because you don’t run it yourself.”
    “Are we going to go all through that again?”
    “Not if you don’t want to.”
    “I don’t.”
    “Fine, then let’s change the subject.”
    From inside the house, he heard footsteps. He glanced at the door just as Jacob Quitman pushed through the screen.
    “Theodore, good of you to come, even if it is …”
    “He already apologized, Daddy.”
    Jacob looked at him for a long moment. “I’m sure he did. But, it’s not good to be wandering around with your head in the clouds. Not today.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s not safe. Jack Wilkins lost a half-dozen horses last night. He thinks it was Comanches.”
    Ted glanced at Ellie, but she said nothing. He asked, “Is he sure?”
    “He didn’t see them, if that’s what you mean. But he’s reasonably sure.”
    Ted shook his head. “I was wondering when they’d come back.”
    “What do you mean?” Ellie asked.
    “They don’t like to lose. They lost two braves in the spring, during the roundup. They lost another just before Johnny left.”
    “The man he killed, you mean?”
    Ted nodded. “The one I should have killed.”
    “No, son, you did right,” Jacob said, patting his shoulder. “Violence doesn’t solve anything.”
    “I used to think that. I still do, I guess. But … sometimes, I’m not so sure.”
    “Let’s not talk about it, Ted,” Ellie said. There was a hint of pleading in her voice. When he looked at her, she looked away. He wondered whether she might blame him somehow, but for what, he didn’t know. Maybe she blamed him for not