Black Dream Catcher
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The next day, when the two men returned to town in a stagecoach from New Orleans, they were greeted with more enthusiasm than if they had come home as heroes. The women of the community ran out on the street and threw their arms around them like long-lost friends.
A few cried. Others kissed their cheeks. But one woman didn’t look happy about it all. She stood off to the side, her arms folded across her chest, watching intently. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck.
It reminded him of a black dream catcher he’d seen hanging above the bed of his favorite aunt’s guest room. He hadn’t known then that it was supposed to catch bad dreams before they reached you while sleeping. Or that some people believed it would protect against evil spirits or nightmares.
If this woman thought she could catch any of those things by looking at him, she might be disappointed.
“Well, well, I never expected to see you again,” she said finally, coming forward to greet the newcomers. “I’m Mrs. Wilson, your former landlady.”
He wondered why she looked so familiar but couldn’t place where he’d met her. Then she opened her mouth and he remembered: she’d been one of the first to run out on the street after hearing about Morgan’s rescue.
That was how he’d recognized her. His father used to say that there wasn’t much difference between a good liar and a bad one—just which lie they wanted to tell. “Yes… yes…”
She glanced over to Mr. Wilson. “And who is this?”
Morgan raised a hand for Mr. Wilson to introduce himself.
“This is my son, Joshua.”
“You have a son!” She turned to him and smiled brightly. “But I can’t imagine anyone being able to raise such a beautiful boy without me.”
Her smile disappeared abruptly. “What happened to your face? Are you hurt anywhere else?”
He shrugged. “It looks worse than it is.”
“Are you sure?”
His mother walked up behind Mrs. Wilson and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, ma’am; we’ll take care of everything.”
Mrs. Wilson nodded slowly, still looking at him as if expecting something terrible to happen. After a moment, she let out a sigh and shook her head. “Joshua, I need you to go down to the boardinghouse and bring us both a pot of coffee. And make mine extra strong.”
After he left, the two women talked quietly among themselves. Finally, Mrs. Wilson turned to him. “Mr. Johnson tells me you’re working for the railroad now. Good for you! You deserve better than what you got out here. Don’t you agree, Mr. Wilson?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Morgan’s father, sounding surprised. “That’s wonderful news, son. I wish you nothing but success.”
Morgan listened to them talk but felt no closer to understanding what they meant by “better.” Whatever that was, he hoped he’d find it soon. For the time being, though, he needed to focus on work and getting out of the house.
With that thought in mind, he excused himself politely and went downstairs. As he waited for his coffee to brew, he tried to figure out what to do next. Should he try to get hired by another company? He certainly wouldn’t want to leave the railroads altogether. They’d taken him in and given him a chance. Why shouldn’t he give them one in return?
A short time later, when Joshua brought them each a cup of steaming black coffee, Morgan decided not to ask him any questions until after dinner. When he sat down with his family for supper, he told them briefly what had happened. Then he asked, “Where are you going now?”
His father answered, “We’ve sold our wagon and horse to buy a new one, and then we plan to head west.”
Morgan stared at him. “West? Where west?”
“Why, wherever you’re going, son. We don’t know yet.”
“What about work? Can’t you find anything?”
“No. Not really. There aren’t many jobs available anymore because most companies are laying off workers. So we figured we’d just travel awhile and hope to meet someone who has a job offer. Maybe we can even buy our own ranch someday.”
“Have you ever worked on a ranch?”
“Of course not, but neither have you, so don’t judge too quickly.”
Morgan knew he should keep quiet or risk hurting their feelings but also realized that he needed help figuring out how to move on with life. “How far are you planning to ride?”
His father sighed. “At least halfway across Texas before turning around.”
Morgan frowned. Halfway across Texas would mean traveling hundreds of miles away from where the bank robbery had occurred. What could possibly be so important about that area? If the robbers were trying to hide out somewhere nearby, maybe he could catch up with them before they headed farther west.
He took a sip of coffee and put his elbows on the table. “If I start out tomorrow morning, will you all come along?”
His parents exchanged glances. “Son, you don’t understand—” began his father.
“Actually, I think I do.”
They looked at him as if they didn’t believe him. “I know it seems strange,” Morgan explained. “But I’ve learned enough to know that it might be dangerous to travel alone. It’s possible they may already be gone, or they may decide to stay in the area instead of continuing west.
That’s why I’m asking for your permission to accompany you. I won’t say it’s impossible for us to survive alone. But I also know there are things you can teach me that I haven’t been taught yet.”
“Well, I guess it makes sense,” said his mother. “As long as you’re careful.”
“Thank you.” He stood up and held his arms wide. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some sleep.”
The following morning, he woke early. While his family slept soundly upstairs, Morgan ate breakfast and saddled his horse. Then he mounted the gelding and rode out of town. At first, he followed the same road that led back toward the railroad yards but veered north into a wooded canyon.
The trail became rough, and he soon lost sight of the main road. A few times he heard dogs barking in the distance, and once he saw a riderless horse galloping through the trees. Other than that, however, he saw no sign of trouble.
He kept riding until he reached the outskirts of the nearest small town and stopped to rest under an old oak tree. After he fed his horse and watered her, he rested against a log while he watched the sun rise over the hills. He’d never seen such a beautiful sunrise before—the kind he’d only read about. He wondered whether this was how God looked at His creations every day.
It wasn’t long before the town came into view, and he noticed the train station right away. On impulse, he decided to see what sort of job opportunities lay ahead. Perhaps he could get hired by the next company heading out west. As he approached the station, he passed several men walking outside. One man, dressed like a cowboy, stepped forward. “Looking for a job, boy?”
“Yes. Do you happen to know anyone hiring?”
“Not lately. Why, what did you want to be hired for?”
“Anything.”
The man chuckled. “That’s good to hear. Now let’s talk about something else. Have you ever shot a gun?”
“Only with my toy rifle.”
“Well, that’s fine. Most boys shoot more with their fingers than their guns anyway.”
“You’re probably right. How much do you pay?”
“Depends on what you can do. For instance, we need a guard at the depot. Would you be willing to take that job?”
“Sure.”
“Good. You’re hired.”
When the other men left, Morgan thanked the man. “Is there anything else you need?”
“A place to stay tonight. No one wants to live near the train tracks anymore since a couple of years ago a whole carload of dynamite blew up right here in front of the depot.”
“What happened?”
“One of the men working inside the station found a suspicious package and called the police. They brought in explosives experts who defused it. Nothing serious, though. Just a little explosion that shook everyone awake. Anyway, after that, we all moved away.”
“So no one lives anywhere close to the tracks now?”
“No. There used to be a hotel just across the street. It burned down last year too. We’ve got another hotel building going up now. Maybe when it’s done, people will feel safer living closer again. In the meantime, we have to watch our own backs because some outlaws still lurk around.”
Morgan nodded. “Where do most of those outlaws come from?”
The man laughed. “From everywhere! Even Texas, I guess. It seems like almost every time a gang goes up against them, half of ’em run off to join the other side.”
“Have there been any incidents lately?”
“Oh, yes. Two days ago, four bandits attacked the stagecoach coming from St. Louis. They killed three passengers and wounded two others. And last week, one of our deputies had his throat cut in broad daylight.”
“Was there anything unusual about the attack? Anything we should look for?”
“Nothing. But if you see someone lurking around or acting strangely, don’t hesitate to report him to us. Okay?”
“I’ll remember that.”
He thanked the man again and left. When he walked past the new hotel, he took note of the construction crew working hard. He then headed south toward a different part of town where he would find a stable and boarding house. All he wanted now was to work and earn money.
***
By lunchtime, he was ready to go home. Instead, however, he wandered farther south and found a saloon. He hadn’t expected to encounter so many lawmen in town today, so he thought he might as well ask about the local gangs.
As soon as he entered the saloon, a woman greeted him. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Actually, yes. Are you the proprietress?”
She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “If you mean Mrs. Blakely, she is upstairs resting.” She pointed to the stairs leading up. “Come back later.”
“Thank you.”
He went up the steps and knocked on the door. After waiting a moment, he opened it slowly and peered through. The room looked empty. Then he heard a low voice.
“Hello, darling. Come over here and tell me how you are doing.”
His eyes widened. His mother!
“Mom!” He rushed inside. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. That’s why I asked you to come over here. I think you should take your things upstairs. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind sharing this room with you.”
“But—”
“There isn’t any reason for you to worry about Dad anymore. I told you before—he has a wife. Your sister.”
“Who?”
“Your aunt. She’s not married either. Not yet, anyway. So you won’t even have to share a bed with her.”
“Does Aunt Molly know you’re here?”
“Of course not,” his mother said. “I’m keeping it quiet until everything settles down.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I want you to keep an eye on me while you’re here. To make sure I don’t slip out of here. Besides, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Someone besides Dad.”
“Okay. What kind of trouble did they give you?”
“It wasn’t exactly easy being a single parent these past few years, but it wasn’t terrible. We lived quietly enough.”
“And what happened?”
“Well…”
She hesitated.
“Don’t be shy.”
“They were arrested for murder.”
“Murder?”
“Yes. Last month.”
“Didn’t you try to defend them?”
“That’s why I came here. I knew it was my only chance at freedom.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I tried.” She sighed. “The judge gave them life sentences. Which means I could get out sooner than I expected.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll never see them again. For good.”
“Is that all? No charges? No trial?”
“Not quite. There are still witnesses who could testify against them, so we may face more charges in the future.”
“Witnesses?”
“Someone saw their faces and called the sheriff. A deputy came by our place to question me. Now everyone knows about me, so I can’t live in a regular neighborhood.”
“When can I move into this room?”
“Now.”
“Can you show me the way?”
“Sure. Let’s go downstairs.”
When they reached the main floor, he followed her to the kitchen. Her maid was busy making coffee when she entered the room. Both women turned to stare at him.
“This is my son,” his mother explained. “We just arrived in town yesterday.”
Her maid nodded quickly. “Welcome to town. My name is Mary Ann. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
Mary Ann turned to her mistress and whispered something. She then handed her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.”
While they talked, he listened intently. They had been accused of murdering two men. One was his stepfather, whom he didn’t recognize. The other was a stranger. And since there weren’t any witnesses to the actual crime, they’d been convicted based on circumstantial evidence.
“So, will they ever get out of prison?”
“I doubt it.”
“Do you really believe they killed those men?”
“No.”
“Then why would anyone accuse them of such a thing?”
“Because one of them confessed to it during his interrogation. Of course, the detectives couldn’t use his confession because it was obtained illegally. But it still made the case stronger. You see, now we can pin both murders on the same man. If we find him, we can charge him with capital crimes instead of lesser ones.”
“Capital crimes?”
“Those carry death penalties. Murder and rape, for instance. Or treason or kidnapping, if the victim happens to be a child.”
“But why kill the men? Why not just rob them?”
“Oh, no. This is not robbery. These men were killed because they were going to testify against us. It was personal revenge.”
“Are you saying the sheriff framed them?”
“Yes. I am.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I investigated the sheriff for a few days after we returned from California. He took money from a local businessman, paid off some of his deputies, and hired another deputy to investigate me. In fact, that deputy worked for him for a long time. His name was Joe Everson. He was also a suspect in the murders.”
“Sheriff? Who is Sheriff?”
“He’s the county sheriff. I met him several times over the past year. Did you notice how he always seemed to be around when the marshals were visiting our place?”
“Marshal?”
“A lawman. An officer charged with protecting people like myself.”
“Sounds interesting. Can I meet him sometime?”
“Maybe someday.” She looked back to the door where Mary Ann waited nervously behind her mistress. “Will you excuse me for a minute?”
His mother walked through the open doorway without waiting for an answer. After a moment, Mary Ann stepped outside and closed the door.
“Why are you keeping your maid?”
“To help take care of me. Until I get settled.”
“Does she have children?”
“Yes, three little girls. She’s been raising them alone.”
“Wouldn’t it make sense to bring her along too?”
“She doesn’t want to come.”
“Why not?”
“It isn’t safe for her. Besides, she has nothing left except for this house. That’s worth a lot of money.”
“In case someone tries to steal it.”
“Exactly. So far, nobody has bothered her. I don’t think anyone else will either. Not while we’re here. We should stay in town until this business dies down.”
“That seems awfully optimistic.”
“You forget that my family owns most of the businesses in town. Most of the shopkeepers are friendly toward us.”
“And that’s supposed to reassure me?”
“Of course.”
“I’m sure it does.”
After another brief conversation between the two women, he excused himself. As soon as he heard the front door close, he turned to look at Mary Ann.
The End