Rafe

She cried indignantly, 'You might have been killed!'

Rafe, starting toward his father, never heard another word. One foot up and one foot down, he stopped in midstride, all the breath knocked out of him.

XIII

Flabbergasted, jaw flopping, he stared like a snake had suddenly reared in his path. He let the lifted foot down with a blurted 'Godlemighty!'

A delicious, humorously infectious laugh tumbled out of Bunny as she watched his scandalized stare take in her man's hickory shirt and the belted, wash-faded, brush-snagged Levi's that so fondly clung to her lithe, shapely legs. 'Is that all you can dig up to say?'

Rafe gulped, red-faced, and his eyes swiveled away; and old Bender said in patient perplexity, 'Is that you, Duke? What is she laughing at?'

Rafe didn't know if he were more upset by her brazen appearance or the gall of her presence. He was mad clear through. What did she think she was up to anyway, tagging him around like—like a dang fool squaw!

A clatter of hoofs broke across his harsh thoughts; and Bender now said with some asperity, 'Will somebody tell me what's goin' on?'

Brownwater, climbing down off the gate, muttered, 'Cook's pulled out,' and the old man's staring eyes flopped around like a couple of hounds that had overshot the trail. 'He's gone for Duke and Spangler,' Luce said, again catching hold of Brownwater's arm.

Bender's eyes found her face; and Bunny, speaking out when nobody else would, told him bluntly, 'They've been off chasing your heir—your son, Rafe.'

The craggy head came around in a wild, lost look, the groping eyes trying to find her. Ineffably sad, he said, 'You're mistaken. Rafe was killed in the war—'

'That's what they want you to think! He's back from the war. They've been out there all night trying to catch him and kill him. It's what I came here to tell you. But Luce was afraid; Duke said if she crossed him he'd turn her over to Spangler—ask Brownwater there. He'll tell you! They intend for Duke to come into this property—'

'It's his right,' Bender said.

'Rafe was your first son; it should go to Rafe!' Bunny cried. 'He's right here with you now—'

'Stop!' Bender's voice was the squawk of an eagle. The blind eyes turned fierce. 'Is there nothing you Yankees won't do! Chilton claiming I've mortgaged this place! You Pikes trying to foist an imposter—I told your father when he came here the first time Rafe was killed in the war.'

'But he wasn't! He's here! Not ten steps away from you. Say something, Rafe!'

Rafe licked dry lips. 'That's right, Pa. I'm here.'

For an agony of time Bender stood like a stone. It got so quiet in the courtyard if you had closed your eyes you'd have sworn the place was empty. The sun's lifting face yellowly brightened the west wall and the chirping of birds came sweet and clear, yet no one moved. The trembling lips of the patriarch, firming, cried, 'That's the voice of the one who was out here before!'

'Certainly. Rafe,' Bunny said. 'Don't you know your son's voice?'

'Be still,' Bender said, his tone curt with scorn. 'Rafe's was never so deep—'

'You're remembering a boy; he's a grown man now.'

Luce, coloring, said, 'It is Rafe, Pa.'

The staring eyes came about. 'You said it wasn't, before.'

'I know. God forgive me.' Her pleading look went to Rafe, shy and shamed.

'She was scared,' Rafe said. 'I don't hold it against her.' He pushed the gun into his belt. 'This son that you say is dead—did he have any mark by which you might know him? Somethin', I mean, that—'

'Of course! The mole,' Luce said. 'You remember the mole, Pa.'

Brownwater said, 'We ain't got much time,' but he might as well not have spoken for all the notice Rafe gave. He was watching Bender.

Hope had come into the old man's face. Though the doubt still showed, there was a surging excitement in the turn of his head. 'I remember it well. Put my hand on it, boy.'

Rafe shrugged out of his shirt. He walked over to Bender. He said, faintly grinning, 'Which side was it on?'

Bender stiffened. 'Was under his right arm, just above the elbow.'

Rafe reached out the arm. 'All right. Put your hand on it. Then tell me Rafe's dead.'

Brownwater, back on the gate, softly swore. 'There's a dust out there. We better git whackin'.'

Bender, with his hand on the mole, was saying 'Boy! Boy!' sounding all choked up, his other arm tugging Rafe hard and fierce. Great tears brimmed and spilled unheeded down his wrinkled cheeks; the girls were weeping also. Brownwater, disgusted, caught hold of Rafe and shook him. 'I don't want t' break nothin' up, but if you ain't fixin' t' be a dead hero you better give some mind t' how we're to git outa here.'

Seeming at last to get through to him, Rafe, giving the old man a final squeeze, disengaged himself, and, stepping back, said with his own eyes smarting, 'Bill, you get the horses. We'll—'