Lonesome Dove - Streets Of Laredo Part 85

"She must have been good with horses, or she wouldn't have lasted this long." Lorena shut herself in her room, when she heard the news. She didn't come out all day. But then the day pa.s.sed, and dusk fell. Lorena still wouldn't come out. Pea Eye knocked on the door, just a little knock.

"Leave me alone," Lorena said, in a raw voice.

Sadly, Pea Eye turned back down the hall.

"Pea," Lorena said, through the door.

"What, honey?" Pea Eye asked, feeling a little hopeful.

"Feed the children," Lorena said.

Later, when it was bedtime, Pea Eye knocked his little knock on the bedroom door, again.

"Leave me alone, Pea," Lorena said.

"Just leave me alone." "But where'll I sleep?" Pea Eye asked.

"I don't know ... wherever you drop, I guess," Lorena told him.

At a loss and worried, Pea Eye put the children to bed and walked down to the Captain's little shack. Tessie was sitting in the Captain's rocking chair, asleep. The Captain sat on his bed, his leg off, sharpening his pocketknife on a small whetstone.

"Lorie's taking it hard, about Clara," Pea said.

"Well, that's to be expected--Clara took her in," Call said.

There was only one rocking chair. After a minute, Pea Eye sat on the floor. He thought he might go sleep in the oat bin, since the Captain was no longer using it. He thought he might go, after a while. But he was used to his wife and his bed. He wasn't ready for the oat bin, not quite.

"Do you ever think of Brookshire, Captain?" Pea Eye asked.

"I rarely do," Call said.

"It's funny. I got to liking him, just before he was killed," Pea said. "He wasn't a bad fellow, you know." Teresa woke up, gave the Captain a goodnight kiss on the cheek, and went to the house to go to bed. When she left, the Captain made it clear that it was time for him to retire, so Pea Eye picked himself up and went off to the barn. There were several mice in the oat bin, and a small snake, but Pea Eye soon chased them out. He had nothing to sleep on, so he went to the saddle shed and pulled out a couple of old saddle blankets, which he wrapped up in as best he could.

Sometime deep in the night he heard the door to the oat bin creak. Lorena came in and bent over him. She held a lantern.

"I'm better--come on back, honey," she said.

Pea Eye felt itchy. The saddle blankets had been covered with horsehair, as was only natural. Now he was covered with horsehair, too, which wasn't so natural; at least, Lorena wouldn't be likely to think it natural, particularly on a day when she was in a bad mood anyway. He had horsehair absolutely all over him, a fact which made him more than a little nervous. Lorena was picky about their bed. Once she had lifted both her feet and kicked him straight off onto the floor, because he had been cutting his toenails and had neglected to clean the clippings off the sheets to her satisfaction. Horsehair might offend her even worse than toenail clippings had.

But Lorena was going--he saw the lantern swinging, as she left the barn. Pea Eye got up, rather stiffly, and tried to brush as much of the horsehair off himself as he could. In the dark, he knew he was probably making a poor job of it. But Lorena was going; he wanted to catch up.

Pea Eye shut the door of the oat bin, to keep out mice and snakes, and, at moments nervous, at moments relieved--at least she had called him honey--he followed his wife back to their house.

The End