Pines made much better firewood, but Cal took the occasional quakie when it got in the way. Quaking aspen was easy to cut and split – it just didn’t burn very hot. Sometimes, wood was wood. Beggars couldn’t be choosers any which way. It was good of the bishop to let him harvest wood so close to town.
He and Long had come to an uneasy truce, even coming together so far as to work toward the same cause now and again. There wasn’t any telling whether he or the old man had softened, but the truth was they’d probably both done a bit of coming around.
Brilliant yellow and red leaves shifted in the afternoon breeze. Cal was back far enough in the trees that he couldn’t see much except for a brilliant blue sky with a band of feather clouds making its way slowly East.
“I’m still surprised to see you alongside the bishop,” Ernest said as he stepped into the clearing.
“Making nice with your enemy confuses them,” Cal smiled.
Ernest picked up one end of the bucksaw. “I suppose the more we do is the more he can claim credit for.”
“It’s not about credit, it’s about keeping the kids warm this winter, I’d expect.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Ernest obviously believed there was a gap between his friend’s words and actions. “Did you go through a lot of wood down there in California?”
A fair bit,” Cal nodded. “Sometimes a fire is more about company as much as warmth.”
*****
Cal and Ernest stopped close to the woodpile midway between the school and the teacher’s cabin behind it.
“Hello!” Ernest shouted as he and Calvin both dismounted the wagon. They’d thrown a half-dozen logs each on the pile by the time the door to the cabin opened.
Mary Sweeney, the new schoolteacher, stepped out into the waning daylight. “Can I help you?”
Ernest looked to Cal, but the cat seemed to have his tongue. “We’re here to help you, ma’am. It’s on the town to help stock the school with firewood.”
“That’s kind of you. I wish I could help you stack, but I’m due at the bishop’s place for supper soon."
Ernest glanced at Cal, who was just staring open-mouthed. “That’s all right, ma’am. We’d intended to take care of it, didn’t we, Cal?”
Cal merely nodded and went back to work.
“Maybe you two could come back tomorrow, and I’d cook you some supper,” Mary said.
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am. About this time?” Ernest asked.
Mary nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
Cal watched as she stepped down the street and what was left of the sunset. He couldn’t help but notice, she had that little sashay he’d seen just a time or two in California.
Ernest grinned while he kept working. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this happen, but it was definitely the first time he’d seen it happen to Calvin McMurtrey.
He thought about giving his friend some grief over it, but decided against it. Right then, he figured he wouldn’t be heard – Cal’s mind was on other things.
*****
Horace’s jars clanked rhythmically in the saddlebags as Cal rode Tiny back into town. There was plenty of starlight, but he’d gotten familiar enough with the road to Old Lady Cooner’s place that he could have gotten there with his eyes closed. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he’d struck up a friendship with her.
The old woman was just outside her back porch door, enjoying the coolness the evening had brought. “Why’d you buy a car if you don’t drive it?”
“Gas is expensive and hard to come by. Tiny here runs cheaper,” Cal said as he dismounted.
“It ain’t my time, Cal, but I’m always happy to see you.”
Cal had two jars – one for drinking and one for leaving. “It’s on me. I wondered if we could talk.”
“Always,” she said as she wiggled slowly onto a nearby bench. Cal sat one of the jars aside and cracked the other. He sipped and passed it over. She took a deeper pull and seemed to stifle a cough. “What’s on your mind?”
He was thoughtful, and she gave him the time he needed to find his words. “How does a woman want to be talked to?"
“How did you first talk to me, Cal?”
He smiled. “You’re not a woman.”
“I might sag and drag, but I assure you, Calvin Lewis McMurtrey, I am a woman.”
A minute’s penitence passed before he managed, “I’m sorry. That was unkind.”
She took another surprisingly long drink. “It’s all right. What’s the first thing you said to me, Cal?”
“Hello, I believe.”
“That’s exactly what you should say to her. The rest will take care of itself.”
*****
Cal woke quickly. He always had, and he had a lot to get done today so he hurried to get going. The hint of light working its way over the mountains from the East was plenty to see by as he made his way to the barn to feed and water the horses. Milking Eula and Mooie was next, followed by checking the doctorin’ cows in the pen. After he slopped the hogs, he went in for a quick breakfast of biscuits and oatmeal.
From there, it was out to the lean-to, which he hadn’t had a good or bad reason to visit since shortly after he’d come home. His Chevrolet coupe was right where he’d left it. Maybe it was covered in dust and not just a few spiders, but it was still a hundred memories of his time in California wrapped in steel, rubber, and glass.
He checked his car over just as carefully as he cared for the horses and cows. Maybe there wasn’t water to wash it, but there was plenty of time to check the tires, fluids and lights. Preparing to drive the car felt odd, but kind of exciting.
Instead of scraping on the trees, the road was actually wide enough for a car now. Unlike the last time he’d been to the Falls, cars traveling the road actually happened now and again instead of just once. Everything about driving on the road felt different than doing it on horseback, even though it was the same trip. Cal spent the time thinking about all of the changes the world was seeing and wondering how to catch up to them at the same time.
*****
Ernest was Cal’s best friend. He’d always trusted him with everything, so it caught him a little off guard when Ernest wasn’t at the home place like he’d said he would be. Ordinarily, he would have moved heaven and earth to hunt him down to make sure he was okay, but he had other commitments. He accepted that his friend might already be on his way to the school as he started his Chevrolet up the drive to the main road.
Driving the car to supper just wasn’t something he was ready to do. Tiny nickered as soon as Cal walked through the barn door anticipating an evening ride. The truth was he was always ready to get out – the stall was no more a place for a horse than it was a cowboy.
Cal saddled quickly and rode out into cool late afternoon air. Sunset would be in just over an hour, and winter would be a few days after that at the rate the leaves were changing and the days were shortening.
The open door on the teacher’s cabin gave Cal a glimpse of the new school teacher, a table set with china plates, and a whiff of baked bread and beans that made his mouth water.
The setting sun behind him cast him in silhouette as he walked up to the little home and took his hat off. She looked at him the same way he was sure he looked at her.
“I hope you like beans. I baked some bread, too.”
His smile was the best answer he could have given her.