The Ghost of Apache Creek

Chapter 54

Come daylight, the wind still came from the east. It nosed around the cremated remains of Requiem, now a charred skeleton of ruined buildings that framed crazily leaning spars rising out of a gray sea of ash.

Wisps of smoke still drifted from the wreckage, the sad remnants of the town’s funeral pyre.

Sam Pace and Jess stood in the street and gazed at the carnage the fire had wrought.

Pace was silent, his face like stone, and Jess’s heart went out to him.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” she said, looking at him, “so sorry that your town is gone.” Then, hopefully: “There’s no reason left for you to stay.”

Pace said nothing, but after a few long moments he said, “Are all the Peacock brothers dead?”

Jess nodded. “Mash says he saw one burn in the church. I guess the two others died in the saloon.”

“Where is Mash?”

“He left to go look for the Peacock horses. He told you that.”

“I didn’t hear him.”

Jess put her hand on Pace’s arm. “Are you all right, Sammy?”

“I’m fine, just fine.”

The woman’s face was blackened by smoke, her eyes red-rimmed, still smarting.

“When Mash finds the horses, we can get out of here,” she said. “Mash said Snowflake is a big Mormon settlement and we’ll be safe from the Apaches there.”

Jess put her hand on Pace’s forearm. “I think we could make it, you and me. I mean, be happy together.”

Pace said nothing. He looked around him, his eyes distant.

Then, like a man waking from a dream, he turned and smiled, a vague smile, remote as the far mountains.

“I must stay here because the people will rebuild,” he said. “That is the way of western men and women. They endure. After hard times they straighten their backs, pick up and start all over again. It’s been that way in the past and it will be that way in the future.”

Jess moved a step toward Pace, hesitated a heartbeat, then threw her arms around his neck.

“Sammy, hang on,” she said. “You’ll be fine when we get to Snowflake. You’ll feel better. I know you will.”

Pace gently disengaged the woman and looked around him.

“I thought I’d lost everything,” he said. “But I haven’t. This is still a town, my town, and it will be reborn out of the ashes.”

Jess said nothing. Suddenly she felt an emotion that was a close kin to despair and it cut through her like a blade.

Mash Lake shook his head. “Nary a sign of them, Sam. Apaches would’ve jumped at the chance to nab them big American studs.”

“Mash, what do we do now?” Jess asked, alarm in her voice.

Lake smiled. “We walk, little lady.”

“Without horses you’ll never make it,” Pace said. “How many Apaches do you think there are between here and Snowflake?”

“Well, hell, boy, we can’t stay where we’re at,” Lake said.

The two men had accompanied Jess to the creek. They sat on the bank while she kneeled by the water, splashing her face, neck, and breasts.

“You can stay right here, Mash,” Pace said. “When the folks come back, you and Jess can find work helping them rebuild.” He smiled. “I might even make you my deputy if you steer clear of the whiskey.”

Now it was Lake’s turn to show alarm.

“Are you goin’ crazy on me again, boy?” he said.

“Mash,” Jess said, “leave him alone.”

“But he’s cuttin’ loco close again, Jess,” Lake said.

The woman dried her hands on her dress, then did up the buttons over her breasts.

“Sammy is coming with us to Snowflake,” she said. “He’ll be fine once he’s away from this awful place.” She hesitated just a moment, then said, “I’ll take care of him.”

Pace shook his head. “No, I told you, I’m staying right here. Requiem is my town and now it needs me more than ever.”

“Son,” Lake said, his voice gentle, “there is no town.”

Pace smiled. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, old man.”

He rose to his feet and looked toward the piled ruins.

“I can see it,” he said, his gaze glowing. “I can see the new buildings, all the tall stores and saloons and maybe a new church. The signs will be fresh painted and hang on chains outside every door and people will go in and out, the womenfolk with packages in their hands, the men stopping in the street to talk crop yields and cattle prices.”

Pace grinned and pointed. “Jess, Mash, look. Can’t you see it? The town of Requiem, new-aborned from the ashes. It’s there. All you have to do is look.”

Mash got to his feet and stood beside him.

“Sam, if they’re to last, buildings need a firm foundation,” he said. “And so does a man. If he don’t have that, he’ll sink into the ground and be lost forever.”

He turned and waved in Jess’s direction. “Over there is a woman who can give you that foundation, boy. Go with her so you don’t sink any deeper into craziness.”

Pace shook his head. “You just don’t see it, do you, Mash?”

The wrinkled planes of Lake’s face stiffened. “I see what I see, boy. An’ I don’t like any of it.”