The Carpetbaggers

Book Two

1

IT WAS AFTER NINE O'CLOCK WHEN NEVADA PULLED the car off the highway onto the dirt road that led to the ranch. He stopped the car in front of the main house and got out. He stood there listening to the sounds of laughter coming from the casino.

A man came out on the porch and looked down at him. "Hello, Nevada."

Nevada answered without turning around. "Hello, Charlie. It sounds like the divorcees are having themselves a high ol' time."

Charlie smiled. "Why shouldn't they? Divorcin' is a pretty good piece of business for most of 'em."

Nevada turned and looked up at him. "I guess it is. Only, I can't get used to the idea of ranchin' women instead of cattle."

"Now, mebbe, you'll get used to it," Charlie said. "After all, you own fifty per cent of this spread. Time you settled down and got to work on it."

"I don't know," Nevada said. "I kinda got me the travelin' itch. I figger I been in one place long enough."

"Where you goin' to travel?" Charlie asked. "There ain't no place left. The country's all used up with roads going to every place. You're thirty years late."

Nevada nodded silently. Charlie was right but the strange thing was he didn't feel thirty years late. He felt the same as he always did. Right for now.

"I put the woman in your cabin," Charlie said. "Martha and I been waitin' supper for you."

Nevada got back into the car. "Then I better go an' get her. We'll be back as soon as I git washed up."

Charlie nodded and went back inside as the car started off. At the door, he turned and looked after it as it wound its way up the small hill toward the back of the ranch. He shook his head and went inside.

Martha was waiting for him. "How is he?" she asked anxiously.

"I don't know," he answered, shaking his head again. "He seems kinda mixed up an' lost to me. I just don't know."

The cabin was dark when Nevada went in. He reached for the oil lamp beside the door and put it on a table. He struck a match and held it to the wick. The wick sputtered a moment then burst into flame. He put the chimney back on and replaced the lamp on the shelf.

Rina's voice came from behind him. "Why didn't you turn on the electricity, Nevada?"

"I like lamp light," he said simply. "Electric light ain't natural. It's wearin' on the eyes."

She was sitting in a chair facing the door, her face pale and luminous. She was wearing a heavy sweater that came down over the faded blue jeans covering her legs.

"You cold?" he asked. "I’ll start a fire."

She shook her head. "I'm not cold."

He stood there silent for a moment, then spoke. "I’ll bring in my things an' wash up. Charlie and Martha waited supper for us."

"I’ll help you bring them in."