He sat tall in the seat, pushing his hat back on his head, striving to get a closer look. The gate proudly proclaimed BLACKHAWK and was decorated with what looked to be a totem on one side. “Are they Indian?”
“Yes. Their father was Native American, but I’m not sure what tribe. Their mother was a descendant of Kingston and Fancy Ramsay. My aunt Myra knew them pretty well. They used to get together and talk about the old days. I remember her saying that the original stone house is almost a hundred years old.”
Reno was quiet while she spoke. He felt as if he’d been hit in the gut with a battering ram. A sinking, sad sensation made him feel a little nauseous as his eyes strained to see any trace of what once was – what used to be. “I was just here yesterday,” he whispered. “The cabin is gone, but this house sits in the footprint. The bunkhouse sat to the left, right where that rock fence is now. Boone and Jericho snored so loudly night before last that I had to sleep with a pillow over my head.”
Journey didn’t interrupt him, she just let Reno reminisce. She noticed his voice took on a sad, wistful tone.
“Ace and his sister Amelia lived in the back side of the bunkhouse. We walled them off a separate area to give the girl some privacy. She had a hard time getting over the ordeal she suffered, being kidnapped by the Indians. I don’t think they were cruel to her, but she blamed them for her parents’ deaths.” His tone changed yet again, taking on a questioning quality. “Although…after my run-in with Kinsella, I’m wondering if the Indians killed her parents or not. Maybe…”
Pausing, he just stared around him as if expecting to see one of his friends come running around the side of the house at any moment. Journey said nothing to interrupt him.
“Domino and Boone helped a cow birth a calf.” He pointed to the right. “The barn sat over there beneath that big oak.” He smiled. “The old tree still stands. I carved my initials on that tree. I wonder if they’re still there.” Unbuckling his seat belt, he started to get out.
“Wait.” She placed a hand on his thigh. “Where are you going?”
“I want to look around. Up close.”
“We need to ask permission.”
“Do you think they’re home?”
Journey glanced toward the house again. “Their vehicles are here. And…there they are.” She pointed at a man and a woman exiting from their front door. “I think that’s Benjen and his wife, Apple.”
“Apple?” He repeated the strange sounding name. “What about my clothes? Do I look out of place?”
Journey scoffed. “You’re dressed like half the men in Texas. Cowboys have never gone out of style.”
Her observation made Reno chuckle. “That’s good to know.”
They both climbed from the Subaru to greet the owners. “So, he’s related to King and Fancy.” Reno studied the man’s face, trying to see a shred of resemblance. “He’s dressed like me.”
“Except for the pants. He has on jeans, which are made from denim. Yours are made of wool.” She looked down at his long, strong legs. “We’ll buy you some jeans later. They won’t be as scratchy or as hot.”
“Hey.” Apple raised a hand in welcome as Journey stepped forward in greeting.
“Apple. I don’t know if you remember me.” They’d only met once before at a community fund raising dinner. Benjen was a different story, even though he was older, they’d gone to the same school. “I’m Journey Stanton, Myra Weiss’s great-niece.”
“I do remember. It’s good to see you.”
“Journey, it’s been awhile.” Benjen took her hand, then offered a handshake to Reno. “I’m Benjen Blackhawk and this is my wife, Apple.”
“This is my friend, Reno Black.” Journey started to offer an explanation for their visit, then her mind just went blank. “He…uh…”
“I just wanted to see your place again. I used to swim at the Slab.” He named the well-known watering hole that sat partially on King’s Ransom’s land.
“Didn’t everybody?” Benjen laughed. “Come on. I just bought a new horse. Would you like to see?”
“Sure would.”
Journey watched Reno move away with Benjen. She felt a bit anxious letting him go off on his own.
“He’ll be okay,” Apple commented softly, reading Journey’s mood. “By the way, he’s a looker.”
Journey didn’t even pretend not to agree. “Oh, yea. Handsome as they come.”
“Would you like to come in? Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Oh, no. Thank you.” She motioned to the two men who were standing at a corral fence admiring a buckskin horse that was nuzzling Reno’s hand as he held it through the railings. “I’m sure he’ll be ready to leave soon.”
Apple smiled thoughtfully. “I’m trying to figure out if I’ve run into him somewhere before. He looks a little familiar.”
Journey didn’t know what to say to this. What if she recognized him?
No. The likelihood of there being another photograph of Reno in existence was slim to none.
Although…Benjen’s mother might’ve had some historical papers passed down through the Ramsay family. Just in case, she sought to change the topic to Apple’s flower garden. “What type of rose is that?” She pointed to a vivid neon red variety, a large bush covered in dozens and dozens of bright blooms.
“A Knock-out.” She went to pick one for Journey. “This is the only truly deer-resistant rose I’ve found.”
“Well, it’s beautiful.”
As she inhaled the fragrant scent, the men rejoined them. With one hand on his hip, Reno looked at ease as he conversed with Benjen. “Journey is taking me around so I can reacquaint myself with some of the local scenery. We stopped at that historical marker just down the road a few minutes ago.”
