CHAPTER IX:
THE PRIEST’S TALE CONCLUDED (UNFOUND)
ONE
“Beds’re ready,” Rosalita Munoz said when they got back.
Eddie was so tired that he believed she’d said something else entirely—Time to weed the garden, perhaps, or There’s fifty or sixty more people’d like t’meet ye waitin up to the church. After all, who spoke of beds at three in the afternoon?
“Huh?” Susannah asked blearily. “What-say, hon? Didn’t quite catch it.”
“Beds’re ready,” the Pere’s woman of work repeated. “You two’ll go where ye slept night before last; young soh’s to have the Pere’s bed. And the bumbler can go in with ye, Jake, if ye’d like; Pere said for me to tell’ee so. He’d be here to tell you himself, but it’s his afternoon for sick-rounds. He takes the Communion to em.” She said this last with unmistakable pride.
“Beds,” Eddie said. He couldn’t quite get the sense of this. He looked around, as if to confirm that it was still midafternoon, the sun still shining brightly. “Beds?”
“Pere saw’ee at the store,” Rosalita amplified, “and thought ye’d want naps after talking to all those people.”
Eddie understood at last. He supposed that at some point in his life he must have felt more grateful for a kindness, but he honestly couldn’t remember when or what that kindness might have been. At first those approaching them as they sat in the rockers on the porch of Took’s had come slowly, in hesitant little clusters. But when no one turned to stone or took a bullet in the head—when there was, in fact, animated conversation and actual laughter—more and more came. As the trickle became a flood, Eddie at last discovered what it was to be a public person. He was astounded by how difficult it was, how draining. They wanted simple answers to a thousand difficult questions—where the gunslingers came from and where they were going were only the first two. Some of their questions could be answered honestly, but more and more Eddie heard himself giving weaselly politicians’ answers, and heard his two friends doing the same. These weren’t lies, exactly, but little propaganda capsules that sounded like answers. And everyone wanted a look straight in the face and a Do ya fine that sounded straight from the heart. Even Oy came in for his share of the work; he was petted over and over again, and made to speak until Jake got up, went into the store, and begged a bowl of water from Eben Took. That gentleman gave him a tin cup instead, and told him he could fill it at the trough out front. Jake was surrounded by townsfolk who questioned him steadily even as he did this simple chore. Oy lapped the cup dry, then faced his own gaggle of curious questioners while Jake went back to the trough to fill the cup again.
All in all, they had been five of the longest hours Eddie had ever put in, and he thought he would never regard celebrity in quite the same way again. On the plus side, before finally leaving the porch and heading back to the Old Fella’s residence, Eddie reckoned they must have talked to everyone who lived in town and a good number of farmers, ranchers, cowpokes, and hired hands who lived beyond it. Word traveled fast: the outworlders were sitting on the porch of the General Store, and if you wanted to talk to them, they would talk to you.
And now, by God, this woman—this angel—was speaking of beds.
“How long have we got?” he asked Rosalita.
“Pere should be back by four,” she said, “but we won’t eat until six, and that’s only if your dinh gets back in time. Why don’t I wake you at five-thirty? That’ll give ye time to wash. Does it do ya?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, and gave her a smile. “I didn’t know just talking to folks could make you so tired. And thirsty.”
She nodded. “There’s a jug of cool water in the pantry.”
“I ought to help you get the meal ready,” Susannah said, and then her mouth opened in a wide yawn.
“Sarey Adams is coming in to help,” Rosalita said, “and it’s nobbut a cold meal, in any case. Go on, now. Take your rest. You’re all in, and it shows.”
TWO
In the pantry, Jake drank long and deep, then poured water into a bowl for Oy and carried it into Pere Callahan’s bedroom. He felt guilty about being in here (and about having a billy-bumbler in here with him), but the bedcovers on Callahan’s narrow bed had been turned down, the pillow had been plumped up, and both beckoned him. He put down the bowl and Oy quietly began to lap water. Jake undressed down to his new underwear, then lay back and closed his eyes.
Probably won’t be able to actually sleep, he thought, I wasn’t ever any good at taking naps, even back when Mrs. Shaw used to call me ’Bama.
Less than a minute later he was snoring lightly, with one arm slung over his eyes. Oy slept on the floor beside him with his nose on one paw.
THREE
Eddie and Susannah sat side by side on the bed in the guest room. Eddie could still hardly believe this: not only a nap, but a nap in an actual bed. Luxury piled on luxury. He wanted nothing more than to lie down, take Suze in his arms, and sleep that way, but one matter needed to be addressed first. It had been nagging him all day, even during the heaviest of their impromptu politicking.
“Suze, about Tian’s Gran-pere—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said at once.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised. Although he supposed he’d known.
“We could get into this,” she said, “but I’m tired. I want to go to sleep. Tell Roland what the old guy told you, and tell Jake if you want to, but don’t tell me. Not yet.” She sat next to him, her brown thigh touching his white one, her brown eyes looking steadily into his hazel ones. “Do you hear me?”
“Hear you very well.”
“Say thankya big-big.”
He laughed, took her in his arms, kissed her.
And shortly they were also asleep with their arms around each other and their foreheads touching. A rectangle of light moved steadily up their bodies as the sun sank. It had moved back into the true west, at least for the time being. Roland saw this for himself as he rode slowly down the drive to the Old Fella’s rectory-house with his aching legs kicked free of the stirrups.
FOUR
Rosalita came out to greet him. “Hile, Roland—long days and pleasant nights.”
He nodded. “May you have twice the number.”
“I ken ye might ask some of us to throw the dish against the Wolves, when they come.”
“Who told you so?”
“Oh . . . some little bird whispered it in my ear.”
“Ah. And would you? If asked?”
She showed her teeth in a grin. “Nothing in this life would give me more pleasure.” The teeth disappeared and the grin softened into a true smile. “Although perhaps the two of us together could discover some pleasure that comes close. Would’ee see my little cottage, Roland?”
“Aye. And would you rub me with that magic oil of yours again?”
“Is it rubbed ye’d be?”
“Aye.”
“Rubbed hard, or rubbed soft?”
“I’ve heard a little of both best eases an aching joint.”
She considered this, then burst into laughter and took his hand. “Come. While the sun shines and this little corner of the world sleeps.”
He came with her willingly, and went where she took him. She kept a secret spring surrounded by sweet moss, and there he was refreshed.